Challenge

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Khimi sits in the courtyard, elbows propped on his knees, fingers pressing into his brow as if he could squeeze clarity from his own thoughts. Never, never in his life, did he think anyone would dare to strike at his family with such brazen malice. Yet the night’s carnage still lingers in his mind, replaying in sharp, jagged fragments. The smoke. The blood. The cries. His thoughts sift through a long list of enemies, but only one name rises, unshaken, to the top. Omar Kappas. Twelve visits in two years. Twelve times that man had stepped foot on Zeybek grounds, each visit soaked in veiled threats, each departure leaving behind an air of unease. And with every meeting, Omar’s subtlety had eroded, the edge of his words growing sharper, bolder. 

Khimi drags his hands down his face, exhaling through gritted teeth. The distant clash of steel snaps him from his thoughts. His gaze lifts, drawn to the courtyard’s center, where Lumi circles Ennui with a predator’s grace. Ennui stands poised, her blade steady, tracking his movements with the sharp awareness of a woman who has danced with death too many times to count. They both believe it was Omar. But why doesn’t this sit right with me? His jaw tightens. He closes his eyes again, searching for the answer in the darkness behind his lids.

“What’s Omar’s connection with the Dolmans?” he asks Ennui while massaging his temples furiously. 

Ennui harrumphs loudly. “He said if I didn’t kill you, then he was going to get the Dolmans. Those were Dolmans, weren’t they—”

“Of course they were Dolmans!” Lumi shouts, swinging a fist at her with unrestrained force.

Ennui sidesteps gracefully, avoiding the blow. She rolls her eyes and sucks her teeth at him. “You’re either really out of practice or a bloody awful fighter. I heard you were learning to fight?”

Khimi clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Play nice.”

Lumi growls in frustration. “Then show me how to fight!”

“Think of it like a dance,” Ennui begins by grabbing Lumi’s wrist. “It’s all about the footwork. Ugh, you’re so stiff. Loosen up,” she mutters, tossing Lumi around in a circle. “Move with me, you git!” 

“You’re… so weird,” Lumi says, gritting his teeth while Ennui tosses him about. 

She scoffs, “You think I am weird?” she says, spinning Lumi around. “You’re the one that insisted you wanted to learn to fight.” 

“I want to learn. I just don’t think this is the way,” he replies, his ears flatten. Ennui begins to spin him once more. 

“You’re not going to be able to hit me,” she says, her eyes narrowing at Lumi.

“Ennui, is it possible someone else sent the Dolmans?” Khimi asks, peering up at the two. 

She pushes Lumi away from her. “I can’t imagine anyone else having the audacity to strike the most powerful merchant family in the Desert Cities. I mean… can you? He said it, Khimi. I swear… and I don’t do that often.” 

“I bet Jilliana put Omar up to it,” Lumi says, casting a sidelong glance at Khimi. His hands rest firmly on his hips as he rocks forward onto the balls of his feet. “She’s just envious… can’t have you, so she has to kill you. Simple as that.”

Ennui bursts into laughter. “Hear that, Khimi? Simple as that!”

Lumi’s jaw clenches, and he shoots her a glare. “Shut it!”

“It can’t be that simple,” Khimi sighs. “Maybe this is some play by someone else to frame Omar.” 

Ennui snickers while Lumi dashes at her. “Always one way to find out,” she begins, grabbing Lumi’s spear and hurling him onto the cobbles. “How about challenging him to a duel?” 

“Don’t listen to her,” Lumi says, picking himself up off the ground. “She’s evil. A menace!” 

Khimi laughs softly. “There’s no doubt about that. I don’t think it’s the worst idea.” 

Lumi glares angrily at Khimi. “We already almost died, Khimi. I had to chase you around the estate to heal you,” he sighs loudly. “I don’t want to have to chase you again!”

“Don’t worry,” Ennui begins. “Everyone that Omar employs is basically a pushover. I’ve seen you handle far worse opponents.” 

Khimi crosses his legs, placing his hand under his chin. “So I can count on you to support me, then?” 

Lumi blows air through his lips, “Like hells she will.”

Ennui points at Lumi. “Kid got the right of it. Stepping into Omar’s home after declining his offer… might be seen as a tad rude. Especially with the man he asked me to kill.”

“Told you,” Lumi says, pointing at Ennui. “She’s actually evil. She probably even considered cutting your—”

“I would never kill Khimi!” Ennui insists. 

Khimi scoffs behind his hand. “You don’t have to lie,” he says dryly. “I know you too well by now.”

“It was a lot of coin,” she shrugs in reply. “But now that you’re my patron, you have nothing to fear.”

“Liar,” Lumi whispers under his breath. 

“I doubt that,” Khimi laughs. 

Ennui groans, throwing her hands up. “I promise I won’t kill Khimi.”

“Or Lumi,” Khimi snarls, and Lumi’s eyes narrow at Ennui. 

“Or Lumi,” she sighs, rolling her eyes. “Sheesh, don’t be a baby about it.”

Lumi twirls his spear in one hand, giving her a measured look. “Am I going to have to worry about a knife in my back?” he asks, a challenge in his tone.

Ennui dodges, but not quite quickly enough, catching the butt of Lumi’s spear in her side. She winces, grabbing her ribs. “You cheeky lion.”

Khimi chuckles at their banter, but his expression soon turns resolute. “Listen… Rashid has been gone for two days. He asked us to stay put, but I think going to Omar’s could give us insight into who was behind the attack.”

“I don’t think going there without Rashid is wise,” Lumi concludes, retreating from Ennui. 

Ennui stops her assault, turning back to Khimi. “How ‘bout this? I’ll be around, and if shit goes south, I’ll be there for you.” 

“Sounds like a trap,” Lumi laughs, walking to Khimi. “Maybe she’s been working for Omar all along.” 

Khimi sighs, grabbing Lumi’s hips and pulling him onto his lap. “I need you to trust her,” he begs. 

“How can I?” Lumi asks, glaring at her. “Since you told me that she was hired to kill—”

“But I didn’t kill him!” Ennui interrupts, throwing her hands into the air. “If I killed him… then you could hate me.”

Khimi rubs his scruffy chin between Lumi’s ears. “Just trust her for now,” he pleads. 

“Fine,” Lumi replies, turning to Khimi and pecking him on the cheek. 

“Fuck me,” Ennui mumbles, watching Khimi and Lumi. “There was something else I wanted to mention,” She adds, looking over the estate. “Seems that I’ll need to be moving into the estate now.” 

Lumi jeers, “Absolutely not!” 

“Fine,” Khimi concedes to Ennui’s request as he squeezes Lumi tightly. “If you promise me something.” 

“How can I be of service?” she asks, returning Lumi’s jeering expression. 

Khimi takes in their playful exchange. “We can discuss it later.”

“W-what is it?” Lumi asks, looking up at Khimi. 

“Nothing for you to worry about,” Khimi chuckles, pressing his lips into Lumi’s blonde hair. 

Ennui taps her foot patiently, waiting for their moment to pass. “So, I get to pick a room?” she asks, rolling her eyes. 

“There is one available near Rashid’s… unless that’s a problem,” Khimi says, running his fingers along the length of Lumi’s thighs. 

“How about… elsewhere?” Ennui asks. “Rashid called me a cutthroat to my face last time I saw him, it really hurt my feelings.” 

Lumi laughs, narrowing his eyes at Ennui. “I’d believe that if you had feelings,” he spits. 

“Kitten, you better watch your tongue,” she replies, gritting her teeth. “Else you may very damn well get that dagger in ya.”

“Hells,” Khimi sighs, squeezing Lumi tightly. “You two, get along! Please!” 

“I’m willing to try,” Ennui hisses. 

Lumi hisses in response, “Fine!” 

Khimi sighs, tapping Lumi’s rear, signaling for him to get up. “You’re both children,” he begins. “I think we should go to Omar’s tomorrow. What do you think?”

“Great idea,” Ennui replies. 

“Why?” Lumi asks in unison to Ennui’s reply. 

“I think, if anything, I will at least find a sense of closure,” Khimi explains. “I have this feeling that Omar is behind this, but something just doesn’t sit right with me.” 

“If Omar accepts your challenge—” Lumi starts.

“He won’t,” Ennui interrupts. “He’d never put himself in that shameful of a situation.” 

Khimi stretches. “Even if he does, Ennui has the right of it. Most of Omar’s retainers aren’t martially trained.” 

“Fine,” Lumi replies, glaring at Ennui. “You better be there,” he adds, pointing at the devilkin.

Ennui places her hand over her heart. “Have faith, kitten. I will be there, even if you don’t see me.” 

“Don’t… let me regret it,” Lumi replies, turning towards the estate. “I’ll leave you two to have your words.” 

“I’ll be with you in a bit,” Khimi calls out after him. 

Lumi continues walking. “I’m sure you will!” he shouts, laughing to himself while he walks beneath the awning and the arched doorway. 

“How can you deal with him?” Ennui says, gagging jokingly. 

Khimi bites his lip, watching Lumi walk away. “He’s not like anyone I’ve ever known.” 

“He’s certainly different… I always assumed you’d prefer someone with a bit more heft,” Ennui remarks with a quiet, amused chuckle. “I mean, his little butt is rather endearing… but, oh—never mind.”

Khimi gives Ennui a teasing look.“He’s got meat where it counts,” he says, taking a step closer to Ennui. 

Ennui rolls her eyes. “So… you had a request?” she asks. 

“I’m not sure if you’ll actually heed my—” 

“Just tell me what it is,” she blurts, crossing her arms. 

A long silence follows. Khimi glances across the courtyard, the scorch marks from the assault still remain on the sandstone. He looks at the wall, noting the marks where stray arrows had landed against the dried mud walls. A vision comes to his mind of the man choking Lumi, a knot forms in his gut.

“Ennui,” Khimi begins, placing a hand on the devilkin’s shoulder. “Mark me, I need you to honor my wishes. You need to look out for Lumi—” 

“What?” she asks, placing her hand over Khimi’s. “The aslan? Why?” 

Khimi shakes his head. “Because, if something happens to me, the only people I can count on are you and Rashid. Lumi isn’t like us, combat becomes second nature for people like us… watching Lumi in combat that night. I could tell how he struggled. He wept afterward… for the mercenaries.”

Ennui snickers, a sly glint in her eyes. “I hear you, Khimi. But if you’re afraid of this duel with Omar, you really have nothing to fear,” she promises, her tone carrying a hint of challenge.

“Be that as it may, it’s still my wish that you protect Lumi,” Khimi replies quietly. “Now, then, how about a bit of practice for tomorrow?” he suggests.

“Throw me that gladius,” Ennui says, giving Khimi a knowing nod. “Fret not, I’ll do my best to keep your precious kitten from harm,” she promises. 

Khimi grabs the hilt of the gladius jammed into the rich soil. “Thank you. Seriously, it means a lot,” assures, tossing the gladius through the air. 

“Finally, some real competition!” she cheers, grabbing the hilt. She takes a defensive stance, preparing for Khimi’s attack. 

Khimi and Ennui spend the few remaining hours of daylight practicing their skills. Khimi allows himself to let loose, releasing days of frustration through martial combat. While no blows are dealt, both Ennui and Khimi bear a solemn expression throughout their duel. Their time together draws to a close, Ennui wishes Khimi well and promises to be there to support him when he needs him. While he wonders about the sincerity of Ennui’s words, he has no choice but to trust in her. He returns to the garden, watching the stars slowly fill the darkening sky. His eyes are immediately drawn towards Stella Solaris. His thoughts are filled with the decisions his father and grandfather had made before him, and he beseeches the wisdom of those whose footsteps he follows, hoping that they may guide him. 

Khimi awakens beside Lumi the following morning, Lumi rests peacefully beside him in bed. The sheets hang loose over Lumi’s naked form. Khimi reaches out to Lumi, stopping himself just short of his back, and thinks back to the other night, remembering how desperate Lumi was to help him. He touches the spot beneath his ribs where he had been stabbed and recalls Lumi’s touch, the warmth that had filled him.

Khimi takes another moment to appreciate Lumi before sliding from beneath the sheets and sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling his trousers on. Lumi stirs behind him, yawning loudly, while he turns to Khimi. He caresses his lower back, and Khimi reaches behind him, taking his hand within his own. 

Lumi rises from the sheets, moving swiftly behind Khimi. “Are you nervous?” he asks, resting his lips against Khimi’s back. 

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t,” Khimi replies with a sigh. Lumi’s hands squeeze against his abdomen from behind, his fingers gently pinching Khimi’s dark abdominal hairs. 

Lumi kisses between Khimi’s shoulder blades. “I’ll be right there with you,” he whispers. “You don’t have to do this, you know.” 

“I just feel like I will know the truth the moment I confront him,” Khimi begins quietly. He places his hands over Lumi’s. “I’ll be fine just knowing you’re there with me.” 

Lumi rests his chin on Khimi’s shoulder. “I’ll always be there for you,” he says softly, his tail swaying behind him gently. “Always,” he adds with another kiss against Khimi’s shoulder.

Khimi’s expression softens while Lumi tightens his embrace. “Glad to have you… I’m sorry I got in so late. I lost track of time.”

“Something bothering you?” Lumi questions, rising behind Khimi and gently nibbles on his ear. 

“I was just thinking about my family. My ancestors. What sort of decisions they’ve had to make for us to have arrived here,” Khimi responds while he stands from the bed. 

Lumi pulls himself beside Khimi, his feet dangling over the bed. He places his head against his shoulders, taking Khimi’s hands in his own. “I don’t think it’s wise to worry over what someone else would or wouldn’t have done. You’re your own person, Khimi.” 

“Don’t people do just that when they think of the gods or the saints?” Khimi asks defiantly. 

“Gods are one thing, but saints are just people like you or me. Everyone makes mistakes, and we all have to make our own path in life,” Lumi says, raising his finger sagely. 

Khimi chuckles softly, then squeezes Lumi’s hand. “Kitten wisdom.” 

Lumi’s face screws up at the words. “I’m just telling you my thoughts. Khimi, from what you’ve told me… you’re so much different than your father or your ancestors. You’re a better person than them!” 

“I’m not sure if that’s true,” Khimi replies, running his thumb over the top of Lumi’s hand. “Care to help me finish dressing?” 

“Sure… did you have something you wanted me to wear for the occasion?” Lumi asks with a tilt of his head. 

Khimi becomes silent for a moment before he finally speaks up. “Don’t worry about it for now. I think I’d like to see Omar’s face when you walk into his home in that Dolman garb.”

Lumi’s cheeks turn crimson while he stands from the edge of the bed. “Using me to make Omar uncomfortable, Lord Zeybek?” he laughs, grabbing Khimi’s jacket from beside the bed. 

“Please don’t call me that,” Khimi insists, rolling his eyes at Lumi. “I’d rather not be called Lord Zeybek by you.” 

Lumi slides one sleeve over Khimi’s arm. “Does it not make you feel powerful?” Lumi asks with another chuckle, sliding the other sleeve on. He pulls the jacket tight over Khimi before working his fingers across the gilded cords. 

“A bit, but I don’t want you to call me that,” Khimi says, smiling at Lumi’s naked form. He finishes tying the cords of the jacket before standing and embracing Lumi. “Do you need any help getting dressed? I could tie the strings to your loincloth.” 

Lumi’s eyebrows cock at his comment. “You’re always welcome to help,” he replies, returning the embrace. “How about I get dressed, and you get some food,” he adds, squeezing Khimi in his arms. 

“There is always time to eat,” Khimi whispers before he plants a kiss between Lumi’s ears. 

 Khimi’s fingertips trace along Lumi’s back, outlining the curvature of his spine. Lumi purrs quietly, his hands linked together behind Khimi’s back. There is a sense of calm between them unlike that which they have experienced and after their brief quiet, Khimi takes the black cloth from the bed and brings it to Lumi, bringing himself to his knees. Lumi steps between the garment and Khimi gradually lifts it, the thong nestling between his cheeks. Not a word is spoken while Khimi tenderly pulls Lumi’s tail over the cloth. He ties the knot on the side, finishing with a test tug. 

“I can finish,” Lumi whispers. “You don’t have to do this…”

“But I want to,” Khimi whispers, looking into Lumi’s eyes. 

The aetherial blues threaten to draw him in. The longing in Lumi’s expression is so painfully clear that Khimi struggles to contain his amusement.

The Duel

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The entrance to the Kappas Estate is just as grandiose as Khimi remembers—perhaps even more so in the amber glow of the afternoon sun. Though he’s always made a point to avoid this side of the city, he’s never denied the beauty of its architecture. The wealthier merchants of Rhaz built high, raising spires as testaments to their prosperity, each one clawing for prominence. The western district sits slightly elevated, its skyline dotted with minarets and domes, an unspoken competition of status. A small wonder Ziad never raised a tower here.

Khimi smirks at the thought. I suppose Father was never one for those kinds of contests. ‘Dick measuring,’ Rashid had once called it. The idea of Rashid and Ziad speaking cordially amuses him enough to draw a chuckle.

The Kappas Estate is no exception to the district’s opulence—if anything, it outshines many of its neighbors. A high mudbrick wall shields it from the street, its ironwood trees casting long, inviting shadows over the entrance. Beyond the gate, a pathway of smooth sandstone cobbles winds through a garden so meticulously maintained that even the desert dares not reclaim it. Khimi follows the path toward the entrance, but the sound of a woman’s voice gives him pause. A song, rich and haunting, drifts through the air.

“Do you think it’s Jilliana?” Lumi asks, rising on his toes as if the extra height might give him a glimpse inside.

Khimi scratches his chin. “Doubt it. If she were singing, it’d sound like a strangled goose.”

Lumi shakes his head with a laugh. “You and Ennui make her sound unbearable.”

Khimi shrugs. “I’ve got my own reasons. I couldn’t tell you why Ennui cares so much.”

Lumi laughs as they enter the hall. “Well, I did want to have a word with her… I almost wanted to run after her the other day after Revya left. At least now I have a few choice words for the next time I see her!”

“I don’t think that would have been wise,” Khimi says, giving Lumi a knowing glance before they walk towards the sound of the singing. A soft, melodious voice carries on, their lyrics harp of an untold thirst.

“What’da think it’s about?” Lumi whispers while they pass beneath an archway.

Khimi continues through the long tunnel, which opens into an open forum-style courtyard. “I’m not great at interpreting poems,” Khimi sighs. He pauses before stepping into the majestic courtyard. “The singer seems to be talking about an unquenchable thirst. In the context of the song… it could be alluding to his lust for power.”

“Wow,” Lumi says, looking at Khimi with a blank expression. “Do you think it’s about Omar?”

“Couldn’t say,” Khimi replies. A man in a fine silk kaftan approaches. “Mind your manners here,” he whispers hastily, the man draws nearer.

Lumi inspects Khimi out of the corner of his eyes. “I wasn’t even going to say anything,” he insists. “Though—”

“Lord Zeybek!” The man shouts cordially, hurrying towards Khimi with wide arms. He quickly combs his unkempt hair at his approach. “I do not believe that my lord was expecting to see you today. Perhaps another day?”

“We’re here on other business,” Khimi mutters, smiling at the dark-haired man. “Is Omar not willing to receive the son of Ziad?”

The man clicks his tongue playfully, though his lips twitch angrily. “Any child of Ziad’s is welcome to the Kappas estate, of course!” he exclaims, extending his hand towards Khimi.

Khimi takes his hand, delivering a firm grip. The man eyes Lumi suspiciously. “I’m sure it’s fine to take a guest as well?”

The man’s lips curl into thin lines. “Of course. I am afraid I’ll need your friend’s weapon and name. Omar would have my head if I let just anyone inside his home.”

“He can leave his spear with you then,” Khimi replies, giving Lumi a nod.

“And your name?” the man asks, while he takes the spear from Lumi.

“Lumi,” he replies nervously.

The man narrows his eyes at Lumi. “And your relation to Lord Zeybek… if you don’t mind?”

“Lover—”

“Friend,” Khimi chokes out, earning a cold glare from Lumi.

The man chuckles, looking at Khimi as he sweeps loose strands of hair from his almond-colored eyes. “Whichever the relation, I’ll let Omar know of your arrival,” he says with a nod.

As the man makes his way halfway across the courtyard, Lumi turns to Khimi, his cheeks flushed with color. “Are you embarrassed of me?” Lumi squeals.

“I’d just rather they not be aware…” Khimi replies coldly.

“I don’t care,” Lumi whispers angrily. “I’d rather they know.”

Khimi sighs. “Fine, when he comes back, I’ll be sure to tell him all about us.”

Lumi grabs Khimi’s hand. “Fine. Do it, tell him!”

“I will,” Khimi replies, glancing down at Lumi. He covers his eyes with his palm, a hint of color entering his cheeks as Lumi embraces him, their bodies snug against each other. “I suppose you want me to tell him about how we fuck as well?”

“That’s inappropriate,” Lumi teases, pressing his face against Khimi’s chest. He peeks between Khimi’s sculpted pectorals and adds playfully, “But yes.”

Khimi wraps his arms around Lumi, his hands squeezing Lumi’s soft asscheeks. “Y-you’re the worst,” he replies.

Lumi purrs softly against him. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I’ve thought about it, and even if Omar didn’t send the Dolmans, he still wanted to hire Ennui to kill me,” Khimi responds. “I-I trust Ennui.”

“Do you truly believe this is the right path?” Lumi questions, staring into Khimi’s cerulean eyes.

“I can’t let that sort of thing go unpunished. If I allow Omar to get away with this, then I’ll have shown myself to be weak before all the merchant princes,” Khimi refutes.

Lumi sighs. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I’ll be fine,” Khimi says, wrenching Lumi against himself. Khimi pauses, cocking his head to the side. “The singing stopped. Do you hear anything, Lumi?”

Lumi’s ears swivel and turn his facial expression changes with the movement. “Mm, I think they’re coming this way. I hear footsteps.”

Khimi releases Lumi abruptly, straightening his kaftan of any wrinkles. He glances over at Lumi. “Glad you agreed to wear it… you look great,” he says, speaking from the corner of his mouth.

“Of course I do,” Lumi blushes, shuffling in place. “I’d feel more comfortable with my spear, though,” he insists, leaning against the wall of the archway.

“I like it when you’re all cocky and confident,” Khimi smirks, slapping at Lumi’s tail playfully.

Lumi growls, slapping Khimi’s hand away. “Stop it! They’re not far away, thought you didn’t wanna get caught.”

“Just thought you were being cute, is all,” Khimi mutters, rolling his eyes. “But fine, I’ll refrain from touching you anymore.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Lumi grumbles and steps away from Khimi.

“Omar bids you to his study,” the dark-haired man says, gesturing to the courtyard. “If you’ll just follow along.”

Lumi and Khimi follow the man through the courtyard. Dozens of detailed alabaster columns line either side of the well-manicured landscape. The architecture here reminds Khimi of his family’s home in Sidi rather than the architecture often seen throughout Rhaz. They walk through the center of the large rectangular forum area, the attendant turns and moves towards another archway. Khimi recalls the stairwell leading up to the balcony where he had watched the festivities taking place. The attendant guides them through another archway. About halfway through, he turns on his heels and places his hand on a large brass ring.

“This is Omar’s study,” the man begins. “Mind yourself, Omar doesn’t normally allow beastkin” he adds, giving Lumi a lingering glare. “But he’s made a special exception for Lord Zeybek.”

“Alright,” Lumi mutters, rolling his eyes at the attendant.

“Thank you for your service,” Khimi says, giving the man a gentle bow.

Lumi follows Khimi’s lead, doing his best to replicate Khimi’s mannerisms. “Yes, thank you,” he mutters with a bow.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” the attendant says.

 Khimi walks past the attendant and grips a hand on Lumi’s shoulder. He guides him into the large room. Mostly empty shelves line the walls, strange looking bronze artifacts sit about the room. The room is dark except for the threads of light which pierce through the thick curtains, the rays of light illuminate the dust in the air. Lumi clings to Khimi while they walk deeper into the room. A faint light glows from the open balcony. They follow the source of the light, passing a strange ticking bronze creation. Khimi pauses to admire it before Lumi drags him towards the stairs. Despite the estate’s pristine appearance, the study is in utter disarray. Sheets of paper are strewn about every corner, large blots of ink are spilled over the pages. Khimi peers over the top stairs. They ascend and notice the candle flickering on the desk situated overlooking the study. Omar sits in silence, scribbling with a feather quill on a velum page. He glances up from his notations momentarily with a flicker of anger.

“Surprised they let you in with that saber,” Omar begins, dipping the quill into the inkwell.

Khimi places his hand over the scabbard. “If it pleases you, I’ll leave it outside.”

“Leave it,” Omar waves his hand disparagingly. “You already brought in something else that doesn’t belong,” he adds, leaning back into the wooden chair. “You sound—”

“Lumi belongs by my side,” Khimi begins, noting Lumi’s disgruntled expression. “I sought an audience because—”

“Because you feel what happened at your home was my doing?” Omar asks, placing his elbows onto the table. “I’ll tell—”

“Did you?” Lumi interjects, placing a foot forward aggressively.

“You should tame your beast better,” Omar laughs while glaring at Lumi.

“Answer the question!” Khimi replies, his voice straining.

Omar chuckles hysterically, unable to catch his breath. “I’m… not a halfwit,” he pauses to catch his breath. “I heard the Zeybeks were attacked by Dolmans, but it wasn’t by my orders.”

“You didn’t send them this time!” Lumi shouts, his cheeks going red. “You were going to have him killed!” Lumi exclaims, pointing at Khimi.

“Lumi!” Khimi shouts, grabbing his head in frustration.

Omar places his hand over his mustache. “So, Ennui didn’t just deny my proposal…” he whispers, smiling at Khimi.

“You don’t deny it?” Lumi pleads, his tail shakes angrily behind him.

“Your father would have done just the same,” Omar says, ignoring Lumi’s words. “If the situation allowed for it, he would have slit my throat in an instant.”

“You don’t have to remind me of my father’s passions,” Khimi replies with gritted teeth.

Omar clicks his tongue. “So then you understand that it was strictly transactional. An opening presented itself and—”

Lumi crosses the distance to Omar’s desk in a blink, his voice sharp. “And you thought you’d have him killed?”

“As I mentioned, it was strictly transactional. I think Khimi is a wonderful young man,” Omar replies, glaring at Lumi. “But… ultimately—”

Khimi scoffs, a bitter edge in his voice. “Wonderful enough to have killed.”

“You’re still alive, though if your beast keeps acting violent… that may have to change,” Omar chortles softly. He reaches for the brass crook resting against the desk. “Now, speak plainly, I expect you didn’t come here to throw insults.”

“I’ll speak plainly, alright!” Lumi insists, slamming his hand onto Omar’s desk.

Omar looks to Khimi. “Seriously, you should learn to control him better.”

“Lumi is free to do as he pleases. He isn’t a slave like those you keep,” Khimi grumbles.

Omar sighs, placing the brass crook in his lap. “The slave trade has been a part of the history of the Desert Cities since their dawn. It’s best you not be ignorant to that fact. Khimi… remember that if you turn your back on it, you’ll lose the support of the majority of the merchants in the Desert Cities who rely upon it.”

Lumi hisses audibly, “Khimi doesn’t keep slaves.”

“But indentured servants are different?” Omar asks the corner of his lips tighten into a smirk. He stands from the desk, walking slowly with the brass crook. “Ziad Zeybek keeps no slaves,” he begins as if telling a story. “Yet, Ziad Zeybek enjoys creating situations in which people are bound to lose: their homes, livelihoods, everything. Then where else can they turn except—”

Khimi presses his fingers against his brow, frustration etched across his face. “Enough, Omar. We get it. You think my father is as appalling as you.”

“What are you even rambling about?” Lumi asks, his face screwed up in confusion. “I said Khimi doesn’t keep slaves.”

“Hells,” Omar chuckles, his brow rising at Khimi. “It’s as dumb as a bag of rocks, isn’t it?” he asks Khimi while he motions to Lumi.

“Om-Omar,” Khimi interjects, shaking his head. “You’ve said your piece. I’m finished listening. I’ve come to challenge you.”

“A duel?” Omar laughs, his jowls jiggling with delight.

“What were you saying about Ziad?” Lumi asks, narrowing his eyes at Omar. “What did you mean?”

Khimi steps closer to Lumi, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “It’s nothing. I’ll tell you about it later.”

Omar continues to laugh, a cruel edge creeping into his voice. “Are you expecting to fight me in my poor physical condition? Surely, you must have known I’d call upon a champion, yes?”

“I expected your fat arse to fight,” Lumi mutters, crossing his arms defiantly.

“I certainly wouldn’t have expected you to fight me yourself, hardly seems fair,” Khimi replies, smiling smugly.

Omar taps his fingers over the brass crook. “What are you hoping to achieve? Honor?” he asks, his fingers tapping more rapidly.

“You planned to have me killed, Omar. I’d request you leave the Desert Cities should the duel end in my favor,” Khimi answers. “You and your kin can take residence in Dolmas.”

“And if I win? What would I have to gain?” Omar asks, stroking his bearded chin. “I assume the duel is decided by a fatal wound?”

“Wait, what?!” Lumi shouts in bewilderment.

“Aye,” Khimi replies as Lumi stammers.

Omar raises an eyebrow. “The possibility of the Zeybek line ending in my home… I accept.”

“When shall we—”

“Khimi,” Lumi interrupts. “You were just injured!”

“Even better for you, Omar,” Khimi smirks.

“We’ll see about that. I’ll see you in the courtyard in an hour.” Omar strolls past them, tapping the crook aggressively. “Perhaps,” he adds, turning back. “You should dress your beast more modestly as well. It’s unseemly.”

Lumi shakes, his hands crumpling the pages over the desk. “Pig,” Lumi murmurs to himself.

“We’ll see you shortly,” Khimi replies to Omar, their eyes meeting briefly.

“Don’t let him destroy my study,” Omar whispers in response, looking back at Lumi once again before descending with a fierce glint in his eyes.

A long moment of silence follows before the sounds of Omar’s cane tapping recede out of earshot. Khimi places his hand over Lumi’s back while he growls and tosses the vellum pages from the desk. Lumi’s tail shakes with anger, his fingers crumple the remaining pages. He turns against the desk, his face flush with heat. Liquid drips from his nose, his eyes begin to fill with tears. Khimi pulls Lumi against himself. His hand presses Lumi’s face against his chest, knowing Lumi is only moments from snapping. Lumi shakes violently in Khimi’s arms, his breath is warm against Khimi’s chest. A rumbling growl at the back of his throat.

“Don’t let his words get to you,” Khimi whispers, feeling Lumi’s fingers tighten on his kaftan.

Lumi pulls back, fresh tears on his cheek. “Khimi… I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I’ll be fine,” Khimi whispers. “I promise.”

“Remember… when you asked me if we could just leave?” Lumi asks between hearty sobs. “Can we now?”

Khimi sighs, drawing Lumi back against his chest. “Lumi, we will go away after this… I just… I just can’t let Omar get away with—”

“You’re an honorable man, Khimi,” Lumi says, gripping the blue kaftan. “Omar isn’t. He is underhanded… he planned on killing you. What’s to say he has any intention of keeping this duel honorable?”

Khimi strokes Lumi’s cheek. “I don’t doubt your words… I don’t trust Omar either, but—”

“This is all Ennui’s fault,” Lumi cries. “You hang onto her words… she probably wanted you to challenge him for her own reasons.”

Khimi grips Lumi tighter. “I don’t doubt that, either. This was already something I had contemplated previously. Omar admitted to his intentions and confirmed what she said.”

Lumi’s eyes continue to water. “I think we should just go,” he whispers.

“I can’t,” Khimi replies, pushing Lumi against the wooden desk. “I can’t—”

“Please,” Lumi sobs weakly. “We can get back at Omar some other way. O-or we can just run away and forget about all of this!”

Khimi’s lips press against Lumi’s forehead and pushes back Lumi’s blond hair. “Please, Lumi. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

Lumi stares into Khimi’s eyes, wet lines streak down his cheeks. “I don’t want you to leave me,” he says quietly, twisting his fingers into Khimi’s kaftan. He leans back against the desk, pulling Khimi’s weight against himself.

“Lumi…” Khimi whispers, placing his hand behind Lumi’s head, pulling Lumi’s lips against his own.

Their lips press together while Lumi sits atop the desk. Lumi wraps his legs around Khimi, pulling Khimi against himself. In a moment of weakness, Khimi gives in to Lumi’s persistent nature. He puts his hand around Lumi’s back and pushes him further up the dark wooden desk. The remaining papers are quickly tossed aside. Lumi lays flat against the length of the desk. Lecherous little lion. His tail tips the candle over, snuffing the flame. Khimi unbuttons his kaftan, a knowing smirk on his lips.

***

Tangled in the aftermath, Khimi lies side by side with Lumi on Omar’s pedestal desk. Deep scratches mark the wood from Lumi’s nails. Lumi rubs his nose and face against Khimi’s bare chest. In this moment, the space exists only for them. All too soon, a knock at the door echoes through the study and breaks the placid moment. Khimi’s hand rests gently on Lumi’s tender abdomen, the heat of their bodies intertwined as they catch their breath, hearts racing still. Lumi runs his fingers through his disheveled hair, so that the tousled strands fall cleanly over his brow, and shoots Khimi a sly wink. The sight sends a pulse of warmth through Khimi’s chest. 

Khimi gathers his scattered clothing from the floor to regain some composure after his spontaneity, but the knocking persists, insistent and demanding. Not as if he could they could get his attention in this moment, when his eyes do not leave Lumi: still half-draped across the desk, chest rising and falling in heady, shallow breaths, he makes Khimi’s chest throb. 

Lumi reaches out languidly for Khimi’s hand. His fingers brush against Khimi’s arm, and Khimi responds immediately, clutching Lumi’s hand. It was certainly more difficult to button his kaftan using only one hand, but he works quickly up the closures. He catches Lumi eyeing the fabric as it stretches over his pectorals and he resists chuckling at his blatant lust. 

Another knock at the door, louder still. “A moment, if you please,” he calls back. 

Lumi exhales heavily, maybe attempting to steel his nerves before whatever confrontation awaits them. He adjusts his loincloth, tugging the black thong into place with a small, satisfied grunt. “Khimi,” he whispers, with a potent expression as they meet eyes. “You mean everything to me.” 

Khimi’s heart tightens at the sincerity there. “Y-yes, I understand,” he murmurs. “I will be alright, on my honor.” 

Lumi releases Khimi’s hand to slip off the desk and shimmies his chest wrap over his nipples. “Good! I bet your honor is worth a lot,” he replies with a nod. 

Khimi sees no use in resisting any longer. He grabs Lumi by the waist, tilts up his chin with the other hand and presses a quick kiss to his cheek. “I promise,” he insists, followed by another kiss, which lingers a moment longer. 

Lumi leans into the contact, his cheek grazing the stubble along Khimi’s jaw. “Let’s get this over with?” he asks rhetorically. 

Khimi appreciates him projecting confidence. He chuckles and pulls back just enough to flash a taunting grin towards the estate’s back court. “I will relish letting Omar know to replace this desk.” 

Lumi blushes, his gaze flickering to the desk before them. The light from the curtains casts a warm glow over the dark wood, the surface marred by deep scratches, wood shavings scattered across the floor. “It’s not that bad…” he begins, his voice faltering as he takes in the destruction they’ve wrought.

Khimi’s laughter is unrestrained. “Don’t worry about it,” he says proudly. “It was worth it.”

Lumi shyly glances over the desk again. “You really got into it…” he whispers, rubbing at the bruises on his neck and shoulder.

Khimi smirks, his eyes darkening. “Couldn’t help myself,” he murmurs, his hand sliding down to rest on Lumi’s thigh, the soft skin beneath his fingertips sending a thrill up his spine. “Really love these thighs,” he whispers with a grin, his thumb gently pinching the flesh.

Lumi embraces Khimi as Khimi’s hand glides over Lumi’s thigh, and skirts up beneath his loincloth to caresses the damp fabric. His fingers linger for just a moment longer. The door creaks open downstairs. Khimi smirks, catching Lumi’s teasing wink. “Thought you said you were going to refrain from touching me,” Lumi sasses, his voice light but playful.

“How could I?” Khimi laughs softly, pressing a kiss to Lumi’s brow. He steps back, quickly glancing at himself in the mirror, his fingers tugging at his tunic. “How do I look?”

“Perfect,” Lumi replies with a grin, adjusting the rest of his garments. He scoops up his missing stocking from the floor, swiftly pulling it up his leg before leaping behind Khimi, securing the golden thread band on his thigh. “How do I look?” he asks, his grin wide and infectious.

“Perfect,” Khimi answers without hesitation, his eyes lingering a moment longer than necessary before he rushes down the stairs. 

Lumi follows Khimi to the door, and Khimi turns back, watching Lumi adjust his garb again and again, though he makes no attempt straighten his unkempt hair. Khimi opens the door with a swift push of his shoulder, revealing the dark-haired servant waiting outside with an unamused expression. Lumi glares at the servant from behind Khimi, challenging him with his eyes. Khimi scans the servant, noting the slight shift in his attire—the addition of a longsword at his waist.

“Omar’s arming his men after a ‘peaceful’ conversation?” Khimi asks, raising an eyebrow with a teasing smirk.

“You’ve left the lord of the estate waiting,” the servant says flatly, gesturing towards the courtyard.

Khimi grimaces but hurries in the indicated direction. A quick glance around reveals a gathering of people already assembled around the stone columns. Omar’s not one for grand spectacles unless he’s got something planned. As Khimi approaches the center of the courtyard, his gaze catches on an androgynous figure standing near the heart of the forum. Their pale skin and white hair almost glow in the setting sun, their crimson eyes fixed on Khimi with an intensity he’s never seen before. A long blade is held loosely in their hand. For a moment, fear tugs at him—the unknown always brings unease—but the thought of freeing himself from Omar sharpens his resolve. 

As he steps closer, Omar stands from his chaise, clapping his hands loudly. All the servants scurry away, leaving only the pale figure standing in eerie silence. “Kept me waiting,” Omar calls out, his voice echoing across the courtyard.

Khimi exchanges a knowing look with Lumi, a flicker of mischief in his eyes. “Wasn’t our intention, Omar!” he shouts back, his tone light, almost mocking. “Hate that we kept you.”

Omar fans himself with a small, ornate hand fan, clearly agitated. “I hope you weren’t having second thoughts after your proposed duel.”

“None whatsoever,” Khimi replies confidently as he and Lumi walk closer to the center of the courtyard. “Just a private moment with my companion,” he adds, voice carrying a touch more affection than he intends. 

“In my study?” Omar snaps, his face twisting with irritation. “Never mind,” he mutters, shaking his head in frustration.

Khimi glances over to the pale figure, intrigued. “Is this your champion?” he asks, motioning toward them with a slight tilt of his head.

Omar chuckles darkly. “Don’t let their size fool you,” he warns. “They’re quite fierce.”

Khimi waves at the figure, giving them a respectful nod. “Well met,” he says, his voice calm but cautious. The figure simply raises a hand in acknowledgment, no words passing their lips, though their grip on the sword hilt tightens.

“Shall we get to it, then?” Omar asks, standing from his chaise with a dramatic flair. The heft of him seems to have him struggling to stay steady, his knees trembling as his brass crook taps sharply against the stone.

Lumi leans close, whispering quietly, “What are they?”

Khimi shrugs slightly, his gaze still fixed on the pale figure. “I’ve never seen anyone like them.”

“Please be careful,” Lumi whispers, his hand lightly brushing Khimi’s arm.

“Khimi?” Omar’s voice pulls him back to the present, sharp and demanding.

“Right,” Khimi replies, shaking off the momentary distraction, his focus returning to the duel ahead.

Omar steps forward, tapping his crook twice before giving a half-hearted bow. “On our honor.”

“On our honor,” Khimi echoes, returning the bow with a flourish.

Lumi’s voice is barely a murmur, but Khimi hears him clearly. “Shouldn’t there be someone to witness this?”

Omar smirks, turning his gaze to Lumi. “Duels aren’t exactly looked highly upon in the Desert Cities. Not anymore.”

Lumi’s ears flatten slightly in embarrassment, his voice quieter. “Oh…”

“It’s okay,” Khimi murmurs, giving Lumi a reassuring flash of his teeth. “I’ll be okay,” he promises. 

Omar releases Khimi’s hand, hobbling across the courtyard with his brass crook. He returns to his chaise, crossing his legs after he sits. He leans forward, the strange figure looking back at him. Lumi steps back, flush against a column. Khimi removes his scimitar from its scabbard and instinctively reaches for his second scimitar, only to remember he chose to use a single blade in the duel. The figure receives a nod from Omar, and he grips the hilt of his saber tightly before stepping toward him. An eerie scene unfolds before Khimi, as the androgynous figure tilts their head with a crack of bones, they morph and shift into Rashid’s likeness. Intrusive thoughts fill his mind, memories once forced into the recesses are immediately dredged.

Horrific pain surges through Khimi’s head, like a mace cracking his skull, as the memory takes form.

Khimi glared at his trembling hands, the shamshir wobbling uncontrollably between his fingers. Blurred tears clouded his vision as he grits his teeth in frustration. Rashid’s grip on his wrist tightened, forcing him into a proper stance. Rashid’s constant corrections and shouting only fueled his turmoil.

“Do ya want ta lose? Do ya want him to beat ya again? Y’re not even tryin’, Khimi!” Rashid shouted into his face. 

In a fit of desperation, Khimi dropped the shamshir at his feet, feeling Rashid’s hands tighten around his shoulders like a vise

“Y’re never gonna be a man if ya keep it up. Is that what ya want? The Desert Cities are gonna be dependin’ on ya and ya can’t even hold y’r blade straight!”

Khimi looked up into Rashid’s eyes, his hair black, peppered with grays. The heat and fury were evident in his expression.

 “I’m just a kid!” he cried out, glaring at Rashid with defiance and hurt.

The slap across his cheek would have been a surprise if it had been the first time, but it wasn’t. “Y’re a man. Now act like one!” Rashid’s voice was firm but laced with disappointment.

If only he had pushed harder, if only he was stronger. Maybe then Ziad would have never left. It was all his fault, he should have been stronger. And Rashid… Rashid should have pushed him to be stronger too.

Lumi screaming his name awakens him from his stupor. He lifts his scimitar just in time to block the first blow from the figure who has taken Rashid’s appearance. The sight of his advisor fills him with confusion. He steps away from his opponent. It’s not Rashid, he tells himself, backing away. He fingers the handle of his scimitar, feeling the balance of the sword in his grip. He swings wide to test his opponent. Rashid raises his saber with a speed that belies his aging form. 

“C’mon, Khimi,” Rashid’s voice says, “be a man!”

Khimi grits his teeth with fierce determination, following his opponent’s movements, his scimitar meeting Rashid’s blow for blow. Deep inside his mind, he can still feel the influence of his opponent, digging and dredging for more. 

“What is this?!” Lumi shouts across the courtyard at Omar. “This isn’t a duel!” 

His words are met without response from Omar. The merchant prince remains in his chaise, a pensive expression behind his dark eyes. 

“Aye, I see now,” Rashid says, his laughter evident. “Ya can’t be a proper man when ya like men, is it? Or is it… beastkin boys?” 

Khimi only snorts at the comment and pushes harder, his brow furrowed in concentration. The blade slides along his opponent’s and smashes into the hilt, managing to nick them along the shoulder in the process. 

Rashid laughs, pressing their hand over the wound. “What’s the matter, Khimi? Can’t land a finishin’ blow? Can never finish what ya start…”

With a violent crack of bones, the figure shifts once again. Where dark trousers had been, a sari appears, her midsection exposed. The dark locks bloom past her dark shoulders, the floral patterned silk scarf wrapped over her head, brilliant golden hoop earrings hand from her ears. Her soft almond eyes stare back at him with an intense beauty, she was always beautiful. 

“Khimi,” his mother calls out to him while the saber twirls in her hand. 

A piercing pain digs deep into his mind. He presses his fingers to his brow as if to battle the pressure, but the ensuing vision comes unwanted. 

Khimi’s heart thundered in his chest as he lay on the bed in his room at the Sidi estate. The sheer curtains billowed around him, a soft glow from the setting sun filtered through. The tight blue kurta squeezed against his chest, suffocating him as if it were a symbol of the expectations placed upon him. His mother’s anger and disappointment hung heavy in the air, making it difficult to breathe.

He had run away from her, hoping to escape the pressure and tradition imposed upon him. But now, as he heard her approaching footsteps, his body tensed with fear and regret. The doors flew open with a violent crash and Aleyna stormed in, her bare feet slapping against the cool tile floor.

“Khimi!” her voice echoed through the room, and Khimi knew that everyone in the estate would have heard her ire. “What in the hells is wrong with you!?” 

He could not bring himself to meet her angry gaze, instead focusing on wiping away the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. “It didn’t feel right…”

“It’s not about feelings, Khimi,” Aleyna snapped, her face flushed with fury. “She was a perfect match for you!” 

Khimi knew that Shanar would have been an ideal wife—beautiful, intelligent, and from a powerful family. But none of that mattered when he had no interest in women.

“I just couldn’t do it,” he said quietly, his voice trembling. 

“Son, sâye, Khimi,” Aleyna began, her tone softening slightly but still filled with frustration. “It’s not about what feels right. It’s about duty. It’s about family. We’re already breaking tradition by having these families come here for you… I know things haven’t been easy but—”

“I don’t care,” Khimi interrupted, sitting up from the bed. “I don’t care! I don’t care about my duty! I don’t care about marriage!” 

Aleyna seized his tear-streaked face, her trembling fingers pressing into his flushed cheeks. Her streaming tears mirrored his own. “We do what we have to,” she whispered fiercely. “One day, you will be the emir. One day, the Cerulean Star will be yours. But for now…” Her voice softened, though the resolve in her eyes did not waver. “For now, Khimi, you will marry one of these girls. You are the last of your line.”

His heart aching, Khimi shook his head in defiance. “No.”

Aleyna’s nails dug deep into his flesh, leaving red marks on his cheeks as she leaned in close. “You are my son! My flesh! My blood! But by the heavens above, I will not be ignored! You will heed my wishes, Khimi!”

Khimi’s chin trembled as he turned away from her piercing gaze. “I can’t…”

“I know you,” she whispered, her tone filled with both love and frustration. “I understand your plight more than you will ever know. But you will obey me, son!”

With those words, Aleyna pushed his face away, leaving him conflicted between his duty and desire. 

Lumi’s shout sounds distant, but he breaks through his haze. Aleyna moves towards him with frightening speed. Her blade chimes against his own in a furious display, sparks fly with the rapid blows. Despite her sari, she moves with a nimbleness he had never seen his mother capable of. 

A soft song rings out over the courtyard, and Khimi barely turns in time to see the vulpo approaching Lumi. Fuck. Minstrels are trouble, especially in combat. Mages who had learned to harness the natural powers that reside throughout Talmus with song. Capable of harnessing their powers through the natural reverberations of the leylines. Her voice raises higher and higher, an ominous foreboding of destruction. 

“Omar!” Khimi shouts, keeping his focus on the figure mimicking Aleyna before him. “I’ll fight your champion but leave Lumi be!” he shouts again, his words echoing across the vast courtyard. 

“Hah!” Omar shouts in reply, slapping his knee. “Fat chance,” he begins, chuckling loudly. “The Zeybek heir comes to me for a challenge… and thinks I’ll just let him walk out of here—”

“Bastard!” Khimi growls, his teeth snapping together.

“Such insolence,” Omar chides, stroking his chin. “Even if this should be brought to light, my heirs will survive me in a world where the Zeybek line dwindles and dies.” 

Aleyna’s blade slides along Khimi’s while he defends himself. She continues to move with an intense poise, her blade slashes past Khimi, cutting through his kaftan with repeated strikes. 

Khimi backpedals from the oncoming attack. “Did you plan this, Omar?” he shouts, glancing at him. “Ziad will have your fucking head.”

“This is what little I could throw together in the hour,” Omar replies with a laugh, folding his hands over his overhanging belly. “Imagine if I had more time… but I knew if you left the estate that beast wouldn’t let you come back.” 

“So much for honor,” Khimi shouts, slashing at his opponent. Aleyna quickly parries the attack, then counters, knocking Khimi off balance. He takes a glance at Lumi, putting his life in jeopardy. 

The rising trill fills the area. The vulpo stands just feet behind Lumi, her hand extended outwards, waving it through the air as if cutting through the air. Golden chains form around Lumi’s ankles, which pull and tighten, dragging him to his knees. A golden, ethereal collar, appears around his neck. Lumi shoves his fingers beneath the collar, trying to keep it from tightening. The pace of her song increases, her lengthy blonde hair flows freely around her, the air, disturbed by the power of her spell. Her voice rises, the shackles tighten. 

The words are in the Old Tongue, the language once used by the tribes of the Desert Cities.

“Golden mane ablaze in the searing sun,

You prowl through the dasht, swift as the wind’s run.

But I, relentless, a hunter unyielding,

Have set my aim—your fate is sealed, my wielding.”

“Look at me!” Aleyna shouts, forcing Khimi back to his aggressor. 

Khimi shouts curses and forces himself forward, his blade swinging uncontrollably. Time is no longer something he can afford to waste. Yet he falters every moment an opening presents itself; it had been over a decade since he had seen his mother. But not a day passes that he does not think of her or the pain he caused her. 

There is no time to question, Khimi’s blade comes down hard, the steel smashing against his mother’s blade, knocking it from her hands. It skirts across the cobbles towards a column. Aleyna runs after it and Khimi pursues, readying his next attack. Aleyna slides along the ground and brings the blade up in time to halt his strike. 

A bright flash of light from behind him draws his attention, briefly enough to look away. A sharp pain comes across his leg, while Aleyna’s blade slashes at him. She skirts past him and steps back towards the center of the courtyard, licking her lips uncharacteristically. 

“Your impression of my mother is disappointing,” Khimi mumbles, then draws in a deep breath, the pain shooting up his leg. 

“Ah, let’s see,” Aleyna responds, teasing her fingers through her hair. 

With another crack and unnatural pop of their bones, horns grow from their head, and a whip-like tail behind her. Ennui stands before him, the blade still drawn in her hand. Dark leathers adorn her body, her crimson eyes flaring with bloodlust. 

A dull ache at the base of Khimi’s skull makes him close his eyes briefly, his eyelids heavy from exertion. He can hear the patter of the figure’s feet coming across the courtyard, but his mind is elsewhere. 

Khimi’s hands trembled as he stared at the bloody knife that had just fallen from his grasp, its blade stained with the blood of three bodies lying lifeless around him. He gasped for air, his heart pounding so loudly in his ears that he could barely hear the woman’s words echoing through the alley. His palms were slick with crimson blood.

“You were just going to stand there and watch?!” Khimi’s body shook with a mixture of fear and anger as he yelled at the woman approaching him.

She sauntered closer, her devilish features twisted into a cruel smirk. “Listen, boy, you had it handled. And besides, this is your fault.”

Confusion and terror flooded Khimi’s mind as he tried to make sense of her words. “W-what do you mean?”

Her laughter was as cold as the depths of the Lorian Sea. “You’re dressed in finery that these people could only dream of affording. Your pockets are heavy with coin. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re just another spoiled little prince who wandered too far from home.”

“You don’t know me!” Khimi exclaimed, his voice laced with desperation.

“But I do,” she replied with a sinister clap of her hands. “Did your parents hit you too hard? Did they make you cry? The world doesn’t take kindly to people like you, little prince. You should run back to your palace.”

“I am… no one,” Khimi whispered, feeling smaller and more insignificant than ever before.

“You want to be no one?” she sneered. “Why?”

At that moment, Khimi could have turned back and continued living a life of luxury and privilege. But he could not shake off the burning desire for something more, something his own. He wanted the freedom to make his own choices, to carve his own path.

“I just want to be Khimi,” he said, his voice growing steadier with conviction.

Her lips curled into a wicked smirk as she reached out to stroke Khimi’s dark hair. “Well then, Khimi. Maybe we can be friends.”

The minstrel’s song is almost a comfort in his ears, luring him to turn back. 

“Through thorns and brambles, I press through the night,

Your tracks in the dust guide my pursuit in the fight.

Your roar shakes the earth, wild and untamed,

But I move with purpose, never to be blamed.”

Javelins the same color as Lumi’s eyes swirl about the courtyard, ramming into the columns and cobbles, while the songstress flits about, still focused on her song. 

The figure using Ennui’s guise rushes forward to meet him. Ennui, the only friend he ever made outside the estate. The only person besides Rashid that he can depend on now. The blade jabs at him quickly, her eyes meet his with a ravenous hunger, wanting violence.

“I should have just killed you that night,” Ennui shouts. “You’re a weak little boy, always have been!” 

Though he is aware of the guise, the words still sting, just like the blade trying to take his life. His arms feel stiff, his fatigue is evident with slow movements. His mind feels shattered, torn between the figure before him, and his concern for Lumi. 

An opening appears. Ennui’s blade smashes into his own, her footing caught off balance. Khimi lurches forward, grasping at Ennui. Unable to swing in close quarters, the two grapple between themselves. Khimi finally reaches her neck, squeezing tight. The look in her eyes is unlike anything he had ever seen from Ennui in his life—fear, actual fear. His fingers tighten around her throat with one hand, tighter by the second. 

A pain leaps through him, she kicks against his abdomen and groin, her boots smashing against him. Khimi holds tight, squeezing tighter by the moment. Her blade comes up with a sharp slash, cutting across Khimi’s forearm. Now separated, Khimi stares at Ennui from the distance between them. 

“Your Ennui is much more accurate,” Khimi admits, readying himself for what comes next. 

A thunderous boom fills the courtyard, both Ennui and Khimi turn to watch Lumi knocked away from the vulpo by an invisible force. The golden chains are still wrapped around his body while he fights against them with every effort, growling and hissing.

“Well then, I think this next one will be of interest to you,” Ennui whispers with a wink. 

Like a pick jabbing into his mind, he can feel the figure digging deep, seeking out memories hidden away. 

Blood spurted from the deep cuts on his knuckles, staining the sand red as he scrambled away from his father’s vicious blade. He cried for help, but Rashid’s hand remained fixed on the hilt of his shamshir, a nervous and angry expression on his face. Khimi’s tears flowed freely down his cheeks as he begged for mercy, but Ziad’s expression remained cold and unforgiving. With calculated precision, he twirled the blade in his hand before slicing it across Khimi’s cheek in a single swift motion. Rashid rushed at him, blade in hand, screaming for Ziad to stop. Aleyna rushed to her son’s side, her sari soaking with blood. As she cradled Khimi’s trembling form, she unleashed a barrage of curses at her husband. He watched Rashid and Ziad arguing, their confrontation taking a violent turn. Rashid pushed Ziad away, their words muted in his ears, while he raised his bloodied knuckles, shouting for them to stop. 

Khimi’s eyes open with a slow calm, the shock of seeing his father breaks something deep within him. Discomfort snakes through him and bites at his nerves. He is just as Khimi had seen him all those years ago. In his cerulean kaftan, he is the picture of regality. Strong, proud, his head held high, somehow still looking down at him from his sharp nose. Those piercing blue eyes are set on him with the same intensity that he could never shake. The saber spins effortlessly in his hand, his movements identical to Khimi’s memories. Nearly retching, he holds himself together. The piercing and probing in his mind does not stop. 

He can barely take his eyes off of Ziad, but as they square circle one another, Khimi can hear the vulpo’s song. Once Lumi comes into view, he can see the ethereal golden chains rattling around him. Runic figures carve into the ground on either side of Lumi with an unseen force, the songstresses’ face pinched in focus. 

Closer, closer, I draw with stealth,

My pulse a drumbeat, raw with quiet wealth.

In an instant, my snare will tighten its grip,

A swift, sure capture—your freedom will slip.

Sweat beads down Khimi’s brow, he raises his blade defensively and Ziad closes the gap between them, his swings purposeful and deadly. Khimi ducks and dodges each of the blows, barely able to evade death. He responds with a deadly swing, his scimitar slashing against the steel of his opponent’s blade. Enan, I need you. Flames surge across the surface of his sword, engulfing it with a brilliant heat, which licks against his face. 

A second vision festers in his mind. Tendrils delve into his mind, seeking out his most horrid memories. 

Khimi cowered beneath the looming bust of his grandfather, the deafening roars from the emir’s chamber shaking the walls of the Grand Hall. Fear gripped his heart as he inched towards his parents’ room, knowing his mother was in danger. With each step, the violent shouts grew louder and more menacing. The door slammed shut, leaving Khimi stranded in the hallway as he tried to force it open, desperate to reach his mother’s side. He sprinted through the corridors and around the courtyard, scrambling beneath their window. Peering over the mudbrick wall, he witnessed a nightmare unfolding before his eyes. His father, Ziad, had cornered Aleyna against the wall, tears streaming down her face. Ziad’s teeth were bared in a feral snarl as he pounded on the wall beside her. Desperately searching for help, Aleyna’s gaze landed on Khimi and she called for him to flee. Determined to save his mother, Khimi climbed through the window but was immediately seized by Ziad’s furious grasp. In an effort to protect him, Aleyna grabbed an ornamental statuette and smashed it against Ziad’s head. Enraged, he turned on her with brutal force, knocking her senseless with a single backhanded blow to her cheek. Khimi could only watch in horror as his mother fell limp under Ziad’s relentless abuse, unable to stop himself from crying out for help at the top of his lungs. 

Khimi’s mind is suddenly clear, he rushes forward, meeting his father’s—no, the shifter’s blade. Swing for swing, Khimi matches him, bests him even, pushing him back towards the columns. The embers from his blade rise into the air; fear peeks into the shifter’s features. 

The minstrel’s words echo through the courtyard, the air crackles with the raw power of her magick. 

“Your gaze, fierce and burning with pride,

But now you are caught, with nowhere to hide.

Oh little lion, once fierce and free,

Soon you will bend, belong only to me.”

A guttural cough breaks the spell, drawing her attention away from Lumi. All eyes in the courtyard turn to its source. Ennui stands behind Omar, her hand gripping his shoulder, a predatory smile curling her lips as she meets Khimi’s gaze, her eyes cold and knowing.

The gladius plunges deeper into Omar’s chest, blood dripping from the corners of his lips as he looks down, horrified, at the weapon that has pierced him. He extends his trembling hands to clutch Ennui’s cloak, desperation etched across his face. His jaw drops in realization, the truth of his fate dawning on him. With a bloody cough, he slumps against her, the gladius carving its way back through his body, leaving a stark testament to betrayal.

The once lively courtyard falls into a deafening silence, broken only by the sound of Khimi’s ragged breaths and the crackling of flames. Khimi’s aggressor remains motionless, stupefied by Omar’s demise, his eyes fixed on Ennui. Khimi raises his scimitar high above his head, both hands gripping the hilt with a white-knuckled intensity. With all his strength, he swings down hard, the blade connecting with a sickening thud against the figure’s chest. Blood explodes from the impact and splatters across the alabaster columns, staining them crimson. Flames scorch the figure’s clothes while they fall to their knees, letting out a gasp. The saber clangs against the ground while they lean forward. Is he… dead? The figure coughs, splotches of blood covering the light stones before them. Omar showed no mercy… why should I? His blade arcs hard and swift across the shifter’s neck. The sharpened edge slices through the bone and sinew without mercy, the flames cauterizing the wound with the scent of burning flesh. In one motion, their head lops to the floor. Khimi pants, observing the figure’s shape return to its androgynous form. He peers about the courtyard, scouring the landscape for Lumi. 

The vulpo dashes for the entrance of the courtyard. Khimi shouts to Ennui, motioning to the fleeing woman. 

“On it!” she shouts in response, taking off across the courtyard. 

Finally freed of his chains, Lumi chases after the woman, passing Ennui and vanishing into the shadows. 

Khimi looks down at the figure, their features still impossible to determine. He releases a heavy sigh, then crosses the courtyard to Omar’s body. The heavy merchant prince rests over the chaise, the crook on the ground before him. Taking a seat beside him, Khimi leans forward and closes his eyes. 

“If you weren’t such a bastard, things could have been different,” he whispers, his voice low and heavy with unspoken feelings. “I would have died in an honorable duel, you know?” As the flames flicker and fade from his blade, the dying man’s breath comes in ragged gasps, each exhale echoing heavily. He feels the heat dissipate, leaving a chilling silence that hangs heavily between them.

Omar coughs blood in reply, a choking sound rises in his throat. 

Khimi shushes him, closing Omar’s still-open eyes. “You shouldn’t have asked Ennui to kill me. I mean… I get it, I am sure my father would have done similar if he were in your position. But I am not Ziad. The sins of my father shouldn’t be placed on me, Omar.”

A bubble of blood forms between Omar’s lips, his eyes open and close with his dying breaths. Khimi sits beside him, waiting until he is still before rising. Wracked with pain, he limps to find Ennui and Lumi.

 Beneath the arched hallway leading outside, he finds Lumi slumped against the wall. Lumi squeezes the handle of a dagger jutting from beneath his ribs. He breathes unevenly, his eyes partly closed. Khimi hastens to his side, kneeling beside him. He holds his hand over Lumi’s, looking into his eyes. There is a profound exhaustion visible in his bright aetherial eyes, like a star dimming. Sweat glistens across his form. 

“Don’t pull,” Khimi urges anxiously, his hands trembling slightly as he gestures for Lumi to keep still. “Just… lie down.” Gently, he eases Lumi forward from the wall and lowers him onto the cobblestones, every movement precise and careful. “I’ll keep pressure,” he promises, setting his hand firmly over the wound.

“I can heal myself,” Lumi mutters, though his voice wavers, betraying him. “I just don’t—” His words cut off with a sharp hiss as Khimi presses down, his teeth gritted against the pain.

“Don’t pass out,” Khimi whispers urgently, his eyes locked on Lumi’s. “I-I saw you with that vulpo… you held your own. I’m r-really proud of you.”

Lumi stammers for words, then grimaces as he presses his finger against the gushing wound. Khimi gently lays him back down, his heart racing with fear. He winces, forcing a smile despite the pain. “She wasn’t that hard to deal with,” he manages to say, nearly laughing but failing to hide the strain in his voice.

“Save your strength… if you can’t heal yourself, I’ll go fetch a chirurgeon,” Khimi insists, urgency rising in his voice. “Do you need me to get someone? A healer? Someone from the shrine?” he asks in a whisper, his mind racing as he begins to realize the extensiveness of the wound.

“We can’t make a scene, remember?” Lumi replies, wincing again once Khimi pushes the silk against the wound. 

Khimi places his arms beneath Lumi’s legs. “I can carry you back to the estate. We can get someone to tend to your wounds—”

“Carry me across all of Rhaz?” Lumi interrupts with a pained look on his face. Beads of sweat drip across his brow. “Middle of the day—” He pauses, buckling over in pain. 

Khimi clicks his tongue, brushing Lumi’s hair from his eyes. “Can’t you just… do whatever Rashid told you to do?” 

Lumi narrows his eyes at Khimi. “You try clearing your mind with a dagger in your gut,” he groans softly.

“Well, if you’re not going to take this seriously.” Khimi sighs, placing his arms under Lumi’s legs. “Then I’ll just have to carry you across Rhaz in broad daylight,” he adds, lifting Lumi from the ground with a grunt. 

“Can you… just give me a moment?” Lumi begs, his voice trembling. “It hurts even more now.”

Fear fills Khimi at Lumi’s insistence. He lowers him back to the floor. “Here… let’s try this.” He says, placing his hands over Lumi’s eyes.

“Take it out… please,” Lumi pleads, giving Khimi a small nod. “It’ll be fine.” 

“Lumi… this is a horrible idea. Let’s find someone who can help just in case,” Khimi says, holding the waist sash against the wound again. Blood blooms through the yellow silk. 

Lumi huffs loudly and grabs the hilt. “No,” he replies stubbornly, yanking the bloody dagger from his abdomen defiantly. 

The dagger chimes against the stone floor while Khimi presses the waist sash more vigorously against the wound. “You stubborn fool!” he growls angrily. “You stupid, foolish lion!” he shouts, blood soaks through the yellow silk and spreads along its outer edges. “Fucking hells, Lumi!”

“It already feels better,” Lumi mumbles, placing his hand over the wound. “Now I just need to clear my mind.” 

“Probably need to hurry… this is an amount of blood.” Khimi’s words are spiked with worry. 

Lumi places his hand on top of Khimi’s, a warmth radiating over his hand. “It’ll be okay—” 

Khimi glances up from the wound to Lumi’s face, the warmth from Lumi’s hand fades. “Lumi? Lumi!” 

Khimi removes the waist sash from the wound, only a small opening remains after he clears the blood. In a panic, he looks over Lumi, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him furiously. You stupid lion. Wrapping the lengthy yellow silk scarf around Lumi’s abdomen, he ties a crude knot. Scooping him from the floor, the full weight of the limp boy in his arms is a heavy burden. 

“Hells!” he shouts, rushing to the entrance of the property.

The massive gate barring the Kappas Estate looms before Khimi, its cold metal glinting ominously in the light. With a determined grunt, he slams his shoulder into the unyielding metal; it hardly budges. Frustration boils in his veins. He kicks at the iron bar with all his might, desperate to break through. A shackle and lock bind the bar in place. An audible groan escapes his lips as he steps back from the gate. Enan… I need your help! Now! In a moment of despair, Khimi turns to his borrowed power, drawing upon it like a lifeline in the darkness. He crouches down, bracing himself for the surge of energy as he focuses on his destination beyond the gate. Suddenly, an explosion rocks the area, and in an instant, Khimi finds himself on the other side, panting from exertion, surrounded by flames that lick hungrily at the charred cobbles beneath his feet, crackling with the heat of destruction. The gateway behind him is in ruins, shattered splinters scattered across the street. Several passersby look skyward, searching for the source of the thunderous sound. Khimi hastens toward the center of Rhaz, catching curious and angry glances as he trots through the city. People stop and stare, some gawking. He runs past, Lumi swaying in his arms, both of them unsure of their destination.

Khimi pauses, looking down at Lumi once again. Khimi’s heart pounds in his chest, his breath labored from running. The gash on his abdomen still drips blood steadily over his clothing, but he forgets his own pain. To the acolytes, then. He turns sharply, heading to the northern district of the city, and crosses through the back alleys in order to avoid as much attention as possible. Arriving near the shrine, Khimi looks up the stairwell at the lush greenery and the swaying palms. The silk scarf around Lumi, now saturated, does nothing to stop the blood from dripping. She must have hit an organ. Khimi dashes across the street from the alley, taking the stairs to the shrine two at a time. Lumi’s limp arms dangle, the golden anklets clink together with each step. He passes under the raining archway, calling out for a healer. His words go unanswered, echoing in the silence that deepens his fear. Rushing along the path, he nearly stumbles on the short stairs. He pauses in an area that resembles an amphitheater, its stone seating empty and silent. A darker-skinned elven woman rushes toward him from a distance, her worried expression clear.

“Lumi?!” she calls out while she runs down the path. “What happened?” she asks, and she begins to look him over. 

Khimi pauses, carefully gauging the woman’s expression while she investigates the wound. “There was an accident…” 

“Accident?” she asks quickly. She gives Khimi a knowing look. “He’s been slashed and stabbed… this is no accident!” 

“Can you help him?” Khimi whispers, attempting to maintain his composure. 

She brushes her hair from her face. “Lay him on the steps over there. I’ll look over his wounds.” 

Khimi places him tenderly, slowly onto the stone step. “He… tried to heal himself. Then he just lost consciousness.” 

“It could just be exhaustion, but either way, these wounds will need healing. It shouldn’t be too difficult a task,” she says quickly, removing the bloodied scarf from around his abdomen. “He managed to nearly mend this one… but just to be sure—” 

“Is he going to be alright?” Khimi interrupts, leaning over the woman’s shoulder. 

She sighs loudly, a hint of frustration in her voice. “He’s still breathing. It could just be exhaustion, but just to be safe, I’ll close these wounds. The stab wound likely nicked something vital, and a more capable cleric should take a look at it.”

“Help him,” Khimi murmurs before kneeling beside him. “This was—”

“I need space to work,” she snaps, gently nudging Khimi back. “But I will do everything in my power.”

Khimi exhales loudly, then sits down with a thud on the stone stairs. “Th-that’s great news. I thought with all the blood that I might have been too late.” 

“You’d be surprised how much blood a body can lose and still survive,” she explains as she begins to heal Lumi’s wounds. A soft blue light emanates from her hands, weaving its way through the jagged gash and knitting it back together seamlessly.

“I’m always… taken aback by that,” Khimi whispers, giving the woman a nod. “I’ve seldom had the chance to witness a healer perform their work.” 

She blushes modestly, shaking her head humbly. “I am but a lowly acolyte. Our order is blessed with many skilled healers.” 

“Might I ask the name of my partner—of Lumi’s savior?” he asks, stumbling over his words. 

She looks up from her work, her expression filled with bewilderment. “You are Khimi Zeybek,” she begins, her voice laced with confusion. “I am Cecilia… of Loria.” 

Khimi tightens his arms across his chest, trying to steady his shaking body. “Thank you, Cecilia. For saving Lumi,” he says, gratitude evident in his tone. “I’m in your debt.”

“He just needs time to recover. Healing under duress can take quite a toll. I’d advise him to rest for now,” she says, inspecting the stab wound and places her palm over it, whispering an incantation. 

“I’m sure he’d love to spend as much time in bed as he can afford,” Khimi says softly, brushing Lumi’s blond hair to the side. “He looks so peaceful.” 

Cecilia scoffs, her eyes flickering with a hint of concern. “Our definitions of peaceful may differ,” she mutters under her breath. “Is he in danger? Should I inform Saint Nina? Though I am not from her temple, I know of her association with him.” 

“No, no danger. Just a small altercation. No need to involve her,” Khimi reassures her, carefully lifting Lumi into his arms and cradling him close. “May I take him now?” 

“He can rest here,” she suggests, more than offers. “I’d prefer him to be within walking distance should something happen.” 

Khimi begins to lift Lumi from the stairs. “I promise I will send for you should the need arise. As long as he’s stable, I need him to keep him within eyesight for a while.”

“I think he should stay here, where there are healers.” Cecilia raises an eyebrow, her expression challenging. “You do know what happens to beastkin when they pass, don’t you? Lumi may seem fine, but if he takes a turn for the worse… you’ll never find him in the afterlife. He told me he believes you’re his soulmate, Khimi.”

“What do you mean?” Khimi asks quietly, pulling Lumi closer to his chest. 

“If you don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t be the one to tell you,” she whispers, sitting on the stone stairs. 

A long awkward silence follows, and Khimi contemplates his words carefully. “I need to know… what you mean.” 

Cecilia sighs, straightening her chiton. “Aslan, among all other beastkin share a different afterlife than that of you and I. Surely you were aware?” 

“I know of Elysium, but I’ve never been well-versed in the afterlife,” Khimi says, pausing while he adjusts Lumi. 

“Perhaps… you should have a seat,” she offers, motioning towards the many empty seats in the amphitheater. 

Khimi lowers Lumi back over the stone stairs, brushing his blond hair from his eyes. “What happens to beastkin?” he asks, keeping his eyes focused on the Lumi’s small form. 

“Their souls yearn to return to the beast plane. It is there that they are reborn as their animalistic half… if you’re one to think much into the afterlife, it’s a heavy thing to hear,” she says, placing a hand on the step towards Khimi. 

His brow wrinkles while looks at Lumi. “So… is this why people keep their distance from beastkin?” he asks, an upset of emotions surges within him. 

She glances at Khimi and then at Lumi. “I’ve never believed that should stop anyone from loving who they love…”

“But, our souls are destined for different afterlives, then?” he asks, a harshness in his voice. “I’m not upset with you… it’s just… cruel.” 

“I’m sorry, but yes… humans tend to either find their souls in Elysium or make their way to the Nine Hells. I’m so sorry, Khimi. I-I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” Khimi snaps. “We’ll figure it out.”

A lengthy pause follows, Khimi stares at Lumi with a softness in his eyes.

Cecilia mutters an apology beneath her breath, turning away from Khimi. “I’m truly sorry… I just figured you’d known.” 

“Is this… common knowledge? Is there some kind of… workaround? Something that the saints know?” he asks, dumbfounded. 

Cecilia coughs quietly. “What… like making a soul go somewhere else?” 

“Is it possible? I mean, if humans can go to either Elysium or the hells…” he whispers, his voice trails. 

“I’m not an expert on the subject… but I can research for you. Shall I… walk you back home? I can at least make sure Lumi makes it home safely.” 

“That won’t be necessary.” Khimi’s expression shifts, masking any emotions.

“You sure? I don’t mind… I feel like I should have just kept my mouth shut,” Cecilia whispers meekly. “I’m just worried about his safety!” 

Khimi jostles Lumi in his arms again. “I promise I’ll keep him safe,” Khimi replies and turns toward her. “And it is better that I know… I’ll be sure to handle things differently now.” 

“I don’t think he’s one to be coddled, Khimi,” Cecilia says, smiling softly, while Khimi moves Lumi in his arms. 

“I’m painfully aware of Lumi’s nature,” he groans, then looks at Lumi in his arms. “I owe you a debt, Cecilia… should you wish it, come to the estate. I’ll see what we can offer.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind. Though I’ll just be pleased to know he’s happy in your care,” she whispers, folding her hands in her lap. 

“He means… more to me than even I knew,” Khimi whispers in response. 

Khimi walks back into the city, turning briefly, offering Cecilia a bow of gratitude. She responds with a friendly wave and a twinkle in her eye. Lumi… did you know? Did anyone ever tell you? Will you still love me if we can’t be together after? The uncontrollable thoughts run through his mind. Feelings of anguish and loss fill him. His concern over the incident with Omar is quickly shunted to the back of his mind, deeper and darker thoughts take their place. I’ll tell him when he’s awake… then he can decide himself.

Khimi walks under the dripping archway, descending back into the streets of Rhaz. The sun slowly begins to fall beyond the walls of the city. Khimi stands with Lumi in his arms. Men and women stop and stare at him. He glimpses up at the setting sun, with the barely clothed boy in his arms. He does not care about what others think about him, he just wants to be with Lumi behind the walls of his home. One foot after the next, he forces himself along the path, his mind muddled and conflicted.