Kirin Story [Audio, Short Story] Narrated by Jessica Robins

Hey peeps!

This is the story from last month, but now it has audio!

In case you want to read along, I will also post the text below. I hope you all enjoy!

Shami

The Astral Garden

            The Astral Garden rarely sold people in their auctions, but they did so whenever they acquired unique individuals. Like me.

            The ancient mages who oversaw the auctions moved with an air of effortless command, their robes trailing the polished floor like shadows tethered to their feet. They had magicks in place to prevent their merchandise from running, so escape wasn’t an option.

            I followed one of them as dutifully as livestock led to market.

            The opulence around me was impossible to ignore, though I tried. Floors gleamed like still pools of white water, while towering walls were adorned with silk tapestries, their threads shimmering when caught by the dying sunlight.

            At last, we stopped before a door unlike the others we had passed. It was made of birch wood, polished to a sheen. Delicate carvings adorned its surface—roses and vines entwined, which was the crest of the Astral Garden.

            The beauty of the craftsmanship was almost enough to distract me from the gilded frame that surrounded the door, its golden edge a sharp contrast to the pale wood. It was a sealing spell that would prevent anyone from entering or leaving, unless they were accompanied by a mage.

            The mage who led me—a tall figure draped in layers of crimson and black, his face obscured by a shimmering veil—lifted a hand. The door clicked open. He stepped aside and motioned for me to enter.

            With a deep breath, I stepped in, my chest tight.

            He followed.

            “You’re beautiful,” the mage said as he stroked my long, silver hair. “There aren’t many of your kind in the world anymore.”

            I jerked away from his touch and pressed myself against the far wall, putting as much distance as I could between us. The man said nothing else. He bowed and exited, leaving me alone in my posh cell.

            My new bedroom so garish it bordered on obscene. The walls were swathed in fabric—crimson silk so heavy it seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it.

            A massive bed dominated the center of the room, its frame gilded and its canopy draped in sheer, glittering material that cascaded down like a waterfall of starlight. Plush rugs covered the floor in layers, their intricate patterns clashing in a way that suggested expense over taste. A single chandelier hung from the ceiling, its crystals casting a fractured glow across the room.

            There was a tall bookshelf and several tomes. A single chair for reading.

            I walked around, the thick carpet swallowing the sound of my footsteps. There was no window. The air smelled of stagnant perfume.

            It was a beautiful cage, at least. The mages had built themselves a palace and lush garden on the side of a steep mountain overlooking the Lilay Valley. A river and lake were nearby, though I couldn’t see them.

            It took me a few moments to gather my thoughts.

            The room didn’t have any pens, metal objects, or rope for the curtains—likely so I couldn’t easily kill myself. The mages wouldn’t know this, but my kind didn’t believe in an afterlife. So, while I feared my new life as a captive, I feared death even more.

            I covered my face with my hands, my chin quivering. I wished I had the power to escape this place, to make everyone who wronged me suffer.

            My inability to alter the situation blossomed into hate and anger. I turned my attention to the only objects in the room weaker than me. Although I normally enjoyed reading, I grabbed the books and threw them from the shelves.

            Fistful by fistful, I ripped out the pages and shredded them into tiny pieces. I imagined the mage’s faces as I did so. And my mother. And the carriage drivers who has brought me here. And the gate guards who had let us in.

            So feverish was my rage that I hadn’t even noticed when I cut myself on the pages. I didn’t stop until I had exhausted myself, my white blood dripping from my palms and staining the rugs.

            I didn’t care. I hoped one of the mages would have to clean it—that they would hate doing so.  

            I collapsed to my knees and leaned against the wall, my breathing heavy. Such antics were childish, I knew. Nothing good would come from me destroying my room, but somehow it had made me feel better. Now tired, I closed my eyes and prayed my dreams would take me far from the Astral Garden.

            My thoughts didn’t cooperate, though.

            I pulled my silver hair forward and hid behind the locks, my eyes scrunched closed.

            A kirin…

            I was a kirin.

            I didn’t speak the words often, because I hated the fact, but my metallic hair, dark indigo eyes, and tanned skin betrayed my secret. Even if someone didn’t know what I was exactly, they knew I wasn’t human. And they would stare…

            They always stared.

            With a ragged breath, I pushed myself into the corner of the room, trying to make myself as small as possible. The kings and queens and regents would stare. They would touch me and whisper things as though I couldn’t hear. My magick was all they wanted. If they could take it, even if it meant leaving me as a husk or corpse, I was certain they would.

            The door creaked open. I shuddered.

            A man in a long robe with a thick silk belt walked in carrying a tray of assorted food. He wore a veil over his face, obscuring most of his features—which he was one of the mages.

            He glanced around the spacious bedroom, eyeing the shredded paper, and stopped only once he spotted me. Then he set the tray on the foot of the bed and hurried to my side.

            The man knelt. “Divine Kirin, what happened?”

            I hadn’t realized I had been crying. The tears matted my hair, and when I went to speak, I just sobbed. I wanted to tell the mage to leap from the nearest balcony and leave me to my last moments of solitude, but I couldn’t.

            “You’re bleeding.”

            He withdrew a blue cloth from the folds of his belt and quickly wrapped my hands. He gently patted the tiny lacerations. My white blood stained the fabric and looked like splotchy white clouds.

            Then he did the same to my other hand, his movements slow and delicate.

            “I brought food,” he said in a kind tone. “Raspberries, apples, and carrots. You can have as much as you want.”

            Although I didn’t know how he knew my favorite foods, I still refused to answer.

            “My name is Shen.”

            He didn’t offer a title or a surname. Through my watery eyes, I noticed the honeyed skin of his hands had no loyalty brands seared into the flesh. He wasn’t a full mage, then. Not yet.

            All the full mages of the Astra Gardens had to bind themselves to the Circle, to ensure none of them would betray the others. Those loyalty brands were always etched into their flesh the moment they mastered their magic, and they always placed them on the hands.

            “Why don’t I escort you to your bed?” Shen asked.

            I pressed myself harder against the wall.

            He waited a moment, and when I didn’t move, he inched closer. “I understand you might be frightened. I was, too, when I was sold to this place.”

            I didn’t make eye contact, but from my peripherals I saw him fidget with his hands.

            “Please, Divine Kirin. I’ve been tasked with your care until the auction. They’ll… blame me if I present you with injuries and an empty stomach. Let me care for you until tomorrow. I’m here to make your life as comfortable as possible, I swear it.”

            When Shen moved to pick me up, I didn’t struggle. He lifted me with little effort—I only weighed ninety-five pounds in my human form—and then carried me to the bed. The blankets and pillows squished under my weight. I sank into the down mattress, momentarily amused by the softness of the silk.

            Shen withdrew a comb from the folds of his belt—he had clearly come prepared. Without words, he brushed my hair back, clearing it from my face. Once finished, he retrieved the tray of my favorite foods and placed it at my side.

            “Shall I cut them for you?”

            Perhaps I was just feeling emotional, but his simple gestures of kindness made me cry. I pulled my knees to my chest and turned away from him, embarrassed by my weeping.

            He cut them, despite the fact I never answered. The fragrance of the sliced green apples put me at ease, and the rhythmic sounds of the knife helped me focus. Once I took a deep breath without trouble, I turned to face him.

            “Will they brand me?” I whispered.

            Shen froze.

            Mages dominated other creatures by branding them with their fell magic. A controlling brand to ensure obedience—that was what I expected they would do to me.

            “I don’t know for sure,” Shen said.

            A coward’s answer. He knew. Just like I knew. But he didn’t want to say aloud.

            I didn’t want to say it aloud, either.

***

            The next morning, Shen brushed my hair with a comb that had been dipped in scented oil. The fragrance, tinted with lavender, reminded me of home. I would never see it again, and that fact haunted me long after Shen finished.

            Then he gave me long silk robes to wear. I changed outside of his company, though it took me longer than it should’ve.

            Once ready, Shen guided me out of my gaudy bedroom. The auction would begin at noon and last until sunset.

            Each ruler from the various nations, along with their retinue, would mingle in the grand ballroom while the bidding process took place. The flames of war consumed the countryside, which meant no one wanted to stay here long. They wanted to return home as quickly as possible to use my power.

            Kirin could affect the tide of battle. Our magicks made us grand strategists, capable of aiding soldiers over vast battlefields with heightened strength and morale.

            Kirin also saw glimpses of the future. Our magicks showed us possible outcomes, but only those related to death, leadership, and betrayal.

            Centuries ago, kirin allied themselves only with just and noble rulers. That meant they could strengthen weaker countries and allowed them to remain autonomous. Then tyrants and warlords approached the mages of the Astral Garden and paid for controlling brands. They captured kirin and forced them into service. These tyrants became gods of war, and then they ravaged other nations who lacked kirin to guide them.

            A hunt broke out for kirin.

            Everyone wanted them.

            A commoner could strike it rich if they caught one. A noble could gain favor if they offered it to their lord. A ruler could turn the tide of war for his nation. There were a thousand reasons to capture them, and little downside for trying.

            Because kirin were gentle and fragile—our magicks were unsuited for personal combat or protection.

            My mother had told me that was when the kirin gathered at the Astral Garden and struck a deal. If the mages provided the kirin with a hidden city—one unreachable by all others—they would relinquish every fourth kirin born to be sold in their auctions.

            So, here I was.

            Unlucky number four.

            My mother already had two other children, and I was certain she had had me to pay the price for our kind’s protection, but she always insisted I had been an accident.

            Shen led me down the wide corridors, past the giant windows with fantastical views of the distant river, and into the grand ballroom. I held my breath as I walked in, my gaze set to the marble floors. My robes flowed behind me, as did my silver hair.

            The guests who had arrived early stopped their conversations as I crossed the vast ballroom. The musicians quieted their instruments. My soft sandals made no noise, intensifying the already deafening silence.

            I didn’t look at the guests. I tried to pretend they weren’t there.

            When we reached the far door, my chest burned from the lack of air.

            Shen motioned me into the audience chamber, and only then did I start breathing again.

            The circular room had a small set of stairs that led to a platform with a luxurious chair. Everything else was wide and empty. The grandiosity of having a room dedicated to a single throne amused me.

            “You will sit here, Divine Kirin,” Shen said. After a moment, he frowned. “Unless you wish to be in your kirin form? I can get a different—”

            “No.”

            “Ah. Very well. You will sit here, and the mages will stand on either side of you.”

            I enjoyed my kirin form more than anything, but I loathed the thought of anyone seeing me as my true self. It was like… disrobing in front of a stranger. I would feel exposed and uneasy. They didn’t deserve to see my beauty. They didn’t deserve anything.

            With shaky hands, I ascended the stairs and took my seat. It was all a show. I was the merchandise, yet they placed me in this seat of power. The people of the world called all kirin divine, and it was once out of reverence, but now it was nothing more than a custom.

            Shen knelt at the base of the steps, his head bowed in a subservient position. I didn’t like the quiet between us. The room felt larger and lonelier, as if we had become statues—nothing more than decoration.

            When the door opened, I flinched. Two mages strode in with scrolls in hand. Their controlling brands—marks burned into their flesh—poked out from the collars and sleeves of their expensive robes. The brands themselves reminded me of pictographs.

            The veils over their faces made everything more mysterious and impersonal. They could be anyone.

            The first mage to reach the steps, a man with the insignia of administration stitched into on the collar of his robes, bow his head slightly before staring at me.

            “Such beauty,” he muttered.

            The second mage, a woman with the insignia of finance stitched in the same location. She was the steward of the Astral Garden, the who wrote the contract for the final bidder. Her thick robes and veil had made it difficult to know who she was until close.

            “It has been a long time since we’ve seen a kirin doe,” the mage woman said. “I thought the kirin were keeping them from us.”

            The mage man huffed out a forced laugh. “I suspect the Seventh Reine will be here to bid on her specifically.”

            “It will be an interesting auction.”

            I turned away from them, my jaw clenched tight. I wouldn’t speak. They had yet to brand me, so they couldn’t force me to do anything. Not yet. Until then, I would save my strength and observe. If ever I had the chance to escape, I would. Maybe Shen would take pity on me and allow me to outrun him.

            The mages took their positions on either side of the throne. The mages of the Astral Garden had many powers, most of which were unknown to the outside world, and I suspected they feared no one at this gathering.

            Did mages even die? I had never heard of it. They imbued themselves with so much magick, I doubted they were even human anymore.

            Perhaps that was why they wore those veils…

            I closed my eyes, allowing time to pass without me even registering it.

            “Bring in the Sun King,” the administrator said. He flicked his wrist and the door opened.

            Shen jumped from his position at the bottom of the steps and rushed to comply. He hurried into the ballroom, where all the gathered rulers were waiting. Once the door slammed shut, the two mages regarded each other with knowing looks.

            The steward woman sighed. “The Sun King is old. He has been to many auctions and never won a thing.”

            “Perhaps he wants to end his reign with a spectacular gesture to his nation,” the administrator said. “He’ll hand over the crown, and a kirin, to his grandson.”

            “He’s weak. He doesn’t have the spine to outbid the others.”

            “We shall see.”

            Shen opened the door wide and stood to the side as he ushered in the required guests.

            The Sun King and ten of his solders stepped into the audience chamber. While I didn’t know the Sun King personally, it was easy to distinguish him from the others. His armor had been custom crafted to fit his giant gut and he wore a helmet with the rays of the sun pointing in many directions.

            Overall, he had a love for the colors of red and yellow. Everything had a bright flare. Even his soldiers had red tassels and yellow feathers decorating their armor.

            Everyone stared at me for a prolonged moment. I didn’t meet anyone’s gaze. I kept my attention to the far wall, uninterested in their awe.

            “Divine Kirin,” the Sun King said. “I am the king of Xolin, the lands beyond the Chu Mountains.”

            I didn’t reply.

            The mage woman motioned him forward. “You may approach and examine her for yourself.”

            The Sun King stepped away from his soldiers and stood at the base of the stairs. He said nothing—he just stared, like all they do. Seconds crept by. Then minutes. I was tempted to break my oath of silence and tell him to leave, but I held firm.

            He finally turned his attention to the mages. “Will this be the same as the prior auctions? Silent bidding?”

            The administrator held out his scroll and thin pen. “You may write your bid here.”

            “I’m the first?”

            “With the passing of Queen Milan, you are now the eldest.”

            “Hm. Yes. It’s good to know you mages still adhere to traditions.”

            The Sun King took the parchment and scribbled something before handing it back. He stared at me for another moment before making his way back to his soldiers and commanding them to return to the grand ballroom.

            This wouldn’t be the last I saw of him. After the first round of bidding, they would come back for another—that was when the real war would begin. Until then, all they would do was greet me and leave.

            “Bring in the emperor.”

            Shen exited the room in hurried fashion.

            The Zensai Empire was the most well-known nation back home. That was the birthplace of the kirin, according to legend, and the only place in the world I sometimes longed to see.

            The steward smoothed the veil over her face. “I like this new emperor.”

            “The Emperor of Wyrms,” the other mage replied. “Did you see him when he came to purchase his pets? Those beasts adore him.”

            “I can’t stand wyrms, but I was impressed that he could handle them.”

            When the door creaked open, I turned my attention to the man who entered. A small part of me hoped the emperor would be a kind and understanding man. Maybe—just maybe—I would go with him and I could see the one thing in the world still connected to the kirin.

            The man who entered didn’t look like anything I had imagined.

            His scarred face, gnarled from claw injures, almost erased his ability to convey normal emotions. The injuries stretched beyond his hairline, creating hairless grooves. His eyes, however, retained a sharp and intelligent edge. He was young, perhaps in his mid-twenties, and he had the physique of a warrior who knew no rest.

            The emperor had come alone. No soldiers. No retinue.

            Shen closed the door behind him.

            He wore a cloak over his ceremonial armor. Black on black on gray. The lack of color stood in harsh contrast to the Sun King. The emperor’s neck bore the controlling brand of a wyrm—a dragon that had no wings. This meant he had magical control over his beasts.

            Disgusting.

            The Emperor of Wyrms offered the two mages a slight bow. Then he walked up to the base of the steps and stared.

            I didn’t like the fact he refused to speak. He hadn’t greeted me or introduced himself. I turned away, more disturbed with the process than I had been prior. Out of the two rulers I had seen, I preferred the Sun King.

            This man…

            I didn’t care for this man.

            “Make it transform,” the Emperor of Wyrms commanded, his voice harsh.

            I caught my breath, my chest tight.

            The administrator mage motioned to me. “Do you doubt she’s a kirin?”

            “No.” The emperor scoffed. “I just dislike when these creatures disguise themselves. Nothing is more disturbing than a beast wearing the flesh of a race it doesn’t belong to.”

            I gripped the sleeve of my robes, my revulsion for the man intensifying with each second.

            How dare he! I didn’t wear the flesh of another race. Our forms were a gift from the balancing force of nature. It was meant to the bridge the gap between peoples—to help all creatures to connect with a common form.

            My body wasn’t a disguise. This was me. Just as humans who wore clothes were still themselves.

            “We won’t be forcing the kirin to change shape,” the steward said. “These creatures are delicate and shouldn’t be placed under much stress.”

            “I travelled a great distance to be here.” The Emperor of Wyrms narrowed his eyes. “The kirin can either transform now, or I’ll make it transform later, after I win the bid. Only then it’ll be for the delight of the guests of this auction.”

            I took in shallow breaths, my whole body numb.

            I hated this man. It was a crime against the world that he had the power of rulership—that he had any power at all. Would he win the bid? Even imagining that outcome made my mouth dry and my throat twist shut.

            Everyone waited, but I would never do as that man asked.

            “Tsk.”

            The emperor held out his hand for the bidding scroll. Once in his possession, he wrote something in fine penmanship and handed it back to the mage. Without another word, he turned on his heel and allowed his black cape to flutter as he stormed from the audience room.

            I shivered, unsettled by the interaction.

            “Perhaps we should take a short break?” Shen offered to his fellow mages.

            The administrator and the steward exchanged glances before nodding.

***

            In the break before they summoned the last of the rulers, the two mages left Shen and I alone in the audience chamber. We had no windows, just lanterns and art hanging on the walls to keep the room from feeling like a coffin.

            Shen walked up the steps and knelt next to my chair. “Divine Kirin, is there anything I can get you? Some refreshment? A musician?”

            I shook my head.

            “Don’t hesitate to ask me for anything.”

            I met his gaze, my heart in my throat. “Help me escape this place.”

            His expression answered me straight away, even if it took him several moments to find the words. He placed his hands on the armrest of the chair, his gaze falling to the floor. “Please don’t ask this of me. There’s nowhere to go. No place they can’t reach. Death is the only escape, Divine Kirin.”

            I gritted my teeth and turned away, angry at myself for ever thinking this broken man would help me. What benefit was there to him? He would be killed, and I would be returned to the auction. Even if we avoided all the other mages—he was right. We had nowhere to go. My kirin home would return me, and they wouldn’t accept his kind.

            “Only three other rulers sent messengers declaring their intent to bid,” Shen said, his tone one of forced hope. “It’ll be a mercifully short auction, and then you’ll start your new life in a palace far from here.”

            That was my only plan, then. I would have to wait until I was dragged to a distant nation before I could do anything.

            The door opened.

            The administrator and the steward entered with whispered conversation, their robes trailing behind them, their veils practically shimmering. Shen slid back down the stairs into his subservient position.

            Once the two mages had retaken their positions on either side of me, the administrator tapped his pen on the scroll. He stared down his long nose at the writing.

            “Who else has arrived?” he asked.

            “The new king,” the steward replied. “The one who ascended the Thay throne only a month ago.”

            “Hm. The spies brought back chilling reports. He killed his father and two brothers during a family banquet.”

            The mage woman huffed. “His people have affectionately named him the Berserker King.”

            “Humans are savages at times.”

            I forced myself to take calming breaths. Even if Shen didn’t help me, I would find a way to leave this place, but if I panicked, I wouldn’t be able to act at a moment’s notice.  I suspected I would only get a half second to escape if the opportunity ever presented itself. That meant I needed to maintain control.

            I couldn’t break down. I couldn’t let the situation get the better of me, no matter how dreadful the rulers of mankind became.

            Shen left the audience chamber and returned a minute later with two people.

            When I heard the title the Berserker King, I figured he would be a barbarian with a gaze that betrayed his tiny intellect. To my surprise, he held himself like a king should, his eyes sharp and his black hair groomed.

            Not only that, but he wore scale-plate armor, crafted from the hide of an ebony wyrm. Scale plate was the lightest, and strongest, of personal armor, or so the textbooks told me—a master crafter had to have fitted it for him, because it clung perfectly to his chiseled physique.

            An albino man followed behind the Berserker King. His sickly white hair, wan skin, and pinkish-red eyes marked him as someone with an abnormality. Despite that, he wore the same scale-plate and stood with confidence, though he was nearly half the size of his lord.

            The Berserker King walked straight to the administrator and held his hand out for the scroll.

            The mage chuckled, his veil fluttering. “You don’t wish to say anything to the divine kirin?”

            “Is that required?” the king asked, his tone curt.

            “No. All that’s required is that you write your bid.”

            With fast and harsh strokes, the Berserker King wrote something down. “Is this acceptable?”

            The mage looked over the scroll for a long moment. Then he exchanged a quick glance with the steward.

            Finally, the administrator rolled up the scroll. “This is only the first round of bids. Keep in mind that you must set a pace for the many rounds to come.” He spoke like a parent to a child.

            “I know what I’m doing,” the Berserker King said, no hint of irritation.

            Had he even noticed the mage’s condescension? Perhaps he was too thick to understand.

            Curiosity got the better of me. I glanced at the king, wondering if this unstable man who murdered his own kin was as crazy as the mages implied.

            He was already staring at me with intense amber-colored eyes. Our gazes met. He was… unlike any I had met before.  I saw he was a man capable of anything—he probably did kill his whole family. Then again, there was intelligence and gentleness I hadn’t been expecting. It was unsettling, and I regretted giving him any attention. I quickly turned away, my gaze locked on the far wall.

            My heart beat fast. Why was I so nervous? My hand trembled, so I held them together.

            Afterward, the Berserker King and the albino left the audience chamber. I wondered if he glanced back at me, but then I shook the thought from my head. What was I thinking?

            At least the encounter didn’t leave me feeling drained, like with the Emperor of Wyrms. I tried not to think of him as I forced myself to breathe.

            “Has the Seventh Reine arrived?” the steward mage asked. She walked over to the administrator and took the scroll to stare at the bids. “Oh, I knew this would be an interesting auction.”

            Shen stood and bowed. “I will check on the Seventh Reine.” He quickly exited our room and entered the grand ballroom.

            “She won’t win the bid,” the administrator said. “She has nothing left to offer. Not after the last auction.”

            The steward chuckled. “She’s desperate and cunning. You know she came prepared.”

            “If she came it all.”

            The nation of Royo wasn’t as large as the others, but their lands and mountains held great wealth. They had been attacked many times by jealous neighboring lords, each intent on carving out the countryside for themselves. If there was any nation that needed a kirin to keep them safe from larger armies, it would be Royo.

            When the door opened, I glanced over.

            Shen led in a striking woman. She wore tailored robes that exposed one shoulder, and the skin just below the same collarbone. Burned into her flesh were controlling brands. One for a phoenix. One for sea serpent. They were deep burn marks, and some only peaked out from under clothes. She must’ve had five in total.

            And her hair was fiery red, which matched her muscled frame and lively step. Something told me she wasn’t a woman you could talk over. This was the Seventh Reine.

            A man followed the woman into the audience chamber.

            No. Not a man.

            A kirin.

            His long silver hair—it flowed to his shoulder blades like starlight waterfalls—shone in the low light of the chandeliers. His indigo eyes, tanned skin, and thin frame all confirmed my conclusion. With all the refinement befitting royalty, he held his hands in front of him and stood tall with each step.

            I scooted to the edge of my chair, my heart beating fast.

            The Seventh Reine already won herself a kirin? Then why had she come to this auction? The magick of a kirin did not amplify if used together.

            The kirin man had an aura I could sense, like a gentle breeze on a warm summer day. His magicks called to me, reminding me of home, and of my mother. The thought of transforming into my kirin form and frolicking about crossed my mind.

            He wore a collar. Not the kind given to dogs—it was made of gold, encrusted with fine gems—but it was a still, unmistakably, a collar.

            “Thank you for seeing me,” Seventh Reine said. She bowed her head to the mages. “I’m delighted to have this opportunity.”

            The steward half bowed in return. “We’re happy to see you’ve returned. I take it you’re satisfied with your purchase?”

            “Very.”

            I tried to make eye contact with the male kirin—to have some sort of moment with him—to feel as though I wasn’t alone. To my disappointment, he avoided looking at me. He shifted his gaze to the floor or to the mages, or even to Shen. But never me.

            The Seventh Reine walked to the base of my steps and stared. Then she frowned. “This kirin is young.”

            “In a few weeks’ time, she’ll develop her magic,” the administrator said. “This is the same age we sold the others. The perfect time to take them from their nest, before they can fight the betrayal of their parents.”

            The betrayal of their parents.

            The words haunted me.

            The Seventh Reine continued her narrow-eyed examination of me. I almost didn’t notice, because I was too focused on her kirin, but her silky red hair had small gold rings woven throughout. Her smooth skin had no blemish, outside of the terrible brands, and I wondered how long she spent grooming herself for such an auction.

            “When will she be able to carry a child?” the Seventh Reine asked.

            I… hadn’t expected that question.

            I turned to face her, my brow furrowed. Then it struck me.

            I knew her plot.

            “She is a mature kirin right now, capable of carrying young,” the steward replied, no surprise in her voice. “But you should know that we’ll charge you for each controlling brand you require in the future.”

            The Seventh Reine dismissed the comment with a wave of her hand. “Of course. I just don’t want to wait any longer than necessary to start my plans. If she’s of breeding age, I’m happy to submit my bid.”

            Still, the other kirin would not look at me. Was it shame? Did he know of the Seventh Reine’s scheme and think himself lesser for the hand he would play?

            The Seventh Reine intended to create her own auction to sell kirin, no doubt in my mind. She had purchased a male, and now she would purchase a female and start her own little breeding stable.

            Ice ran through my veins.

            The Seventh Reine took the bidding scroll and stopped short of writing anything. “Is this from the Berserker King?” She glared at the last bid. “Of course. What a buffoon. He doesn’t know the etiquette of such events.”

            “It is his first time,” the male mage said, chortling.

            “It’ll be his last. Mark my words. A man who ascends the throne drenched in blood will have a short, and vicious, reign.”

            “We live in a tumultuous time.”

            Once she finished writing, the Seventh Reine offered another bow and then left. Her kirin, never uttering a word, followed her, his radiant magic disappearing with him.

            A shiver ran down my spine. While I knew the rulers of the various nations would want my magick for their wars, I had never imagined anything like the Seventh Reine. In some ways, she was worse than the Emperor of Wyrms. She wanted to enslave me and all my children, in a terrible cycle that would never end.

            Shen moved forward, his head down the entire time, even as he spoke. “There is only one other ruler in attendance. The Witch Tyrant of Ko.”

            The mages thought this statement over.

The administrator sneered. “I suppose we should allow her a chance.”

            Even in my kirin village, secluded from the world, I had heard rumors of the Witch Tyrant. She had stolen secrets from a lone mage in the wastes and somehow managed to create a channeling brand of lightning. Even if it was just a single brand, it gave her an advantage over normal men. She took the throne and ruled through fear.

            But Shen never got the chance to fetch her. The door opened, drawing the attention of everyone in the audience chamber.

            A young woman strode in, her head high. To my amusement, she wore black robes with a scarlet-silk belt—even a shimmering veil over her face—the same as the mages of the Astral Garden.

            “You have not been summoned,” the steward said, her voice much harsher than it had been before.

            The Witch Tyrant chuckled. She smoothed down the collar of her robes, exposing the channeling brand. She was proud of it, obviously.

            “You needn’t bother your servants,” the woman said. “I am the youngest, and the last in attendance. It was obviously my turn to see this kirin now.”

            Two soldiers entered after her, both men of impressive stature, their plate armor etched with a drawing of the controlling brand, as though it had become Ko’s national symbol. The soldiers waited neat the door while the Witch Tyrant continued to the base of the steps.

            She stopped and offered me a bow.

            “Oh, Divine Kirin. To behold you is such a magnificent gift.”

            I said nothing.

            Unbothered by my silence, the Witch Tyrant stood straight and held her hand out for the scroll. “I promised the nation of Ko it would have a kirin.”

            Just as I had remained quiet, so did the mages. They handed her the scroll, waited for her to write her bid, and then took it back. The Witch Tyrant smoothed her robes as she turned and walked out of the room. Compared to the size of her soldiers, she had the appearance of a child—so short and thin, though still larger than I was.

            When the door swung shut, the administrator rolled up the scroll. The steward took it from him and left, no doubt to start the second rounds of bids. While eight nations had relations with the Astral Garden, only five of them had shown up to participate.

            The Sun King, the Emperor of Wyrms, the Berserker King, the Seventh Reine, and the Witch Tyrant…

            If I had been free to choose, I would’ve rejected all of them.

            None were rulers worthy of my magick. None were people deserving of a nation’s power. But now it come down to who bid the highest, and I would be forced to help them regardless. Which of them would be the least of all evils? Who should I pray to have win?

            The mage man placed a hand on the armrest of my throne. “Divine Kirin. Now is the time to socialize. We have drinks and food tailored to your needs out in the grand ballroom.”

            I didn’t want to go, but I also didn’t want to cause a fuss over such a small request. I wouldn’t speak or interact with anyone, but perhaps I could catch another glimpse of kirin who served the Seventh Reine.

            I stood, my legs shaky, and I headed for the door.

            Shen and the mage flanked me as I entered the giant room filled with the retinue of the rulers in attendance.

***

            Staring.

            Always staring.

            I gripped the edge of my sleeves, my shoulders bunched at the base of my neck. Men and women got close, but never close enough to speak, just to get an eyeful and hustle away. Some whispered, but all them pointed. Although I didn’t move around the room, it felt as though the crowds were a river rushing around me.

            Shen remained at my side. Whenever I looked at the food—even just a glance—he jumped to retrieve it for me. Although I had no smiles to give, he remained pleasant in his mannerisms, always with a gracious bow or offering of a cleaning cloth.

             I tried to lock myself away in my own thoughts, far from the grand ballroom. When I was younger, I would sit on a path lined with raspberry bushes and draw. A song of crickets and lovebirds rang from the wilderness, setting the mood for wonderment and childish exploration of lands already long made safe. Too young to practice magick, and ostracized because of my birth order, I had no one but the river and the oldest oak tree to keep me company.

            Although lonely, it was quiet and peaceful. I missed those days.

            “Divine Kirin.”

            The voice shattered my daydreams. I turned to face the Sun King.

            He smiled and rubbed the armor around his gut, as though it were a habit ingrained in his muscles.

            He stared, but after a few seconds, he cleared his throat. “You remind me of my grandniece. She keeps to herself. I’ll ask her what’s wrong, but she’ll answer the same thing every time. Nothing, Uncle. That is… until I give her these.”

            The Sun King untied a small pouch from his belt. The red velvet of the bag made it stand out against the white and gold present in the Astral Garden. He took my hand and placed the pouch in my palm.

            I almost threw the bag across the room, but the man’s genuine smile stilled my actions. I opened the pouch and examined the contents.

            “Candied berries,” the Sun King said. “Blueberries, to be specific. I employ a chef who creates the most delicious treats with honey and an oven.” Again, the Sun King rubbed his giant gut, this time as he laughed from the bottom of his belly. “So good, in fact, I can’t stay away! My grandson thinks I should exert some self-control, but when you’ve fought in as many wars as I have, you don’t say no to excellent food. This meal could be my last!”

            He chortled at his own joke.

            I plucked a blueberry from the pouch and nibbled half of it. The honey, somehow baked into the dried fruit, exploded with flavor across my tongue. I had never tasted such a thing. It almost overwhelmed me at first. I shuddered and waited a moment before finishing the rest.

            “It’s delightful,” I whispered. “Thank you very much.”

            The Sun King’s eyes went wide. He slammed his hand on the shoulder of the nearest of his personal guards. “Did you hear that? The divine kirin spoke! She thanked me.”

            “Yes, my liege.”

            “A good sign, as I see it.” He turned his smiling face in my direction. “I have a feeling you and my grandniece will become fast friends.”

            I had sworn not to speak, but the candied berries surprised me. None of the other rulers had given me anything. It made me appreciate the gift all the more.

            Shen stepped around me and gestured to the grand ballroom. “The divine kirin needs her space. Please enjoy the refreshments while you consider your next bid.”

            His instructions no doubt included chasing away any of the rulers that lingered nearby. The Astral Garden had one priority—to make me as desirable as possible—and if one ruler monopolized my time, they wouldn’t achieve their goal.

            Once the Sun King and his retinue left, I asked Shen, “Do you think he’ll win the bid?”

            Shen pondered my question and then replied, “One of the servants told me the Seventh Reine is threatening all those who pursue the bid beyond the third round. She commands a kirin already, so if they lose, and she starts a war, she’ll surely win and then punish them for crossing her.”

            “Can she really do that?” I asked.

            I searched the room and found the Seventh Reine standing by the musicians. Her robes exposed not only her shoulder and her many brands, but her back all the way to her waist. She was beautiful, and several men were engrossed in conversation with her. She came from a wealthy nation, and she had a kirin of her own—perhaps her threats would be taken seriously, and everyone wanted on her good sign.

            “Won’t the mages be angry?” I asked. “I thought they wanted a bidding war.”

            Shen shook his head. “The rulers are allowed to say whatever they would like, but fighting isn’t allowed in the Astral Garden. And, if her intimidation fails, and another ruler here claims you, the war isn’t guaranteed to go in her favor. Her nation of Royo is much smaller than the others.”

            “But it’s wealthy,” I countered.

            “That’s just more of a reason to invade. If the Seventh Reine loses, she may have a war on her doorsteps.”

            “Kirin magick makes us great strategists,” I muttered. “She already has a great advantage.”

            “But one great strategist outfitted with an army of 20,000 against another great strategist with an army of 500,000…”

            He didn’t need to finish his example. My head hurt just thinking about the role I would play in such an outcome.

            Still, I didn’t want her threats to work. I glanced down at the candied fruit in the velvet pouch and wondered what life would be like with the Sun King. Would he be as kind as he was just now? Or would he hand me to his grandson, as the mages implied? I knew nothing about the Sun King’s grandson. He could be anyone.

            The Witch Tyrant of Ko, flanked by her two soldiers, made her to my corner of the room. It was difficult to see her face through the veil, but once she was close, I caught the hints of her cruel smile. It was clear she delighted in this event, but I wasn’t sure why.

            “Divine Kirin,” she said.

            I held the pouch of candied berries close and said nothing.

            “I’ve had dreams about this moment, ever since I was little. My great nation of Ko has long gone unrecognized by the others. I am the one who will lead my people out of the mire and into the morning. I am their savior.”

            Her speech grew louder with each word, drawing the attention of the others in the grand ballroom. I didn’t like the pressure of their eyes. I took a step back, my hands unsteady.

            “The mages of this place think themselves gods,” the Witch Tyrant continued. She waved her arms around, motioning to the extravagance. “But they are nothing more than decadent men! Any one of us could be them—my brand proves it!”

            Now she was shouting.

            I couldn’t read the expressions of the others in the room because I refused to stare at them longer than half a second. Why was this woman yelling? I agreed with her—the mages weren’t gods—but her declarations worried me. The Astral Garden wasn’t the place for such mockery.

            The Witch Tyrant held out her hand, her breathing heavy. “With my power, and your magick, we will answer to no one. We will be the new gods.”

            I took another step back, aware of the four mages who had entered the ballroom from both ends. Their black and scarlet robes were unmistakable.

            “The divine kirin is tired,” Shen interjected as he stepped between us. “I will be taking her to rest now. I suggest you turn your attention to the bidding scroll.”

            The Witch Tyrant scoffed. “Walk away, pest. You aren’t even a full mage.”

            “It doesn’t matter what the divine kirin thinks of you,” Shen stated, unflustered. “She has no influence over the bidding process. If you wish to make your dream a reality, you will focus your attention elsewhere.” Shen bowed and then took a step back.

            The Witch Tyrant mulled over his words, obviously torn between annoyance and acceptance.

            Before she could decide, Shen led me toward one of the ballroom doors. The mages stepped aside, their attention locked on the Witch Tyrant. I held my breath as we passed them, and I didn’t start breathing again until we had rounded a corner in the long hallway.

            “The mages will allow you to rest until the final round of bidding,” Shen said, his voice echoing in the empty hallway. “I think it would be best.”

            My body already felt weak. Kirins weren’t known for their sturdy constitution or ability to handle prolonged stress. There were several old stories where kirin had died during a long war because their ruler companion hadn’t understood that they needed so much care.

            Shen brought me back to my prison bedroom. He rushed to pull back the blankets, fluff the pillows, and draw the curtains around me bed. I stood nearby, my heart beating harder than I expected.

            “This will be over by the end of tonight?” I whispered.

            “Yes, Divine Kirin.”

            “Who do you think will win the bid?”

            Once the final curtain was shut, the room fell into darkness. Shen had snuffed the lights and he waited a moment before replying to me. “I suspect… Well, it’s complicated.”

            “You don’t have to worry about frightening me,” I said. “I’ve imagined each scenario already.”

            “Then, I believe the Emperor of Wyrms will win,” Shen stated. “He’s been here several times before, when he bid for the wyrm eggs. Many of the mages think highly of him.”

            I didn’t want that outcome. I loathed it.

            But I would need to start planning for the worst possible scenario if I were to stay ahead of my dread and depression. I had to steel myself and focus on making it through the ordeal with enough wits to escape. I had to.

            I had to.

            Shen helped me into the bed and then made his way to the door. “If you need anything, I’ll be right outside.”

***

            I woke to the sounds of people rushing down the hallway.

            My heart slammed against my ribcage as I sat up. Sweat coated my skin. Urgent whispers beyond my door ate at the last of my courage. What was happening? Were their enemies in the Astral Garden? Was someone coming for me?

            I waited, listening with all my might. Shrouded in darkness, I saw nothing. After a minute, the whispers and running stopped. I held my blankets close, fearful someone would burst into my room at any moment.

            When the door squeaked open, I widened my eyes.

            “Who goes there?” I demanded.

            Shen replied, “It’s me, Divine Kirin.”

            He crossed the room to the side of my bed. I scooted to be closer. His veil hid most of his face, but I could see the outlines. He was frowning.

            “Has something happened?” I asked.

            “Yes. It’s nothing you need to worry about, though.”

            I forced myself to take deep breaths. Once calm, I dropped the blankets to my lap. “What happened with the bidding?”

            “After only a couple of rounds, the bids have gotten quite high. Apparently, the Berserker King has upped the stakes higher and higher each round. It’s caused tension, and the other rulers have taken his tactic to mean that he doesn’t plan to live long.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Both the Seventh Reine and the Emperor of Wyrms believe the Berserker King doesn’t care about the long-term damage done to his nation, so long as he wins in the short term. He’s offering a great deal, perhaps because he’s planning for an immediate civil war with those who contest his claim to the throne. They both hesitant to bid.”

            I fussed with my tangled hair. “What about the Sun King?”

            “He’s withdrawn from the bidding.”

            The news sunk into my chest and continued down to my stomach. I hadn’t realized how much I had wanted him to until that moment.

            “And what about the Witch Tyrant?” I whispered.

            Shen hesitated.

            Two more people rushed by the door, their lanterns casting brief pillars of light into the room. Their voices carried a dire urgency.

            “The Witch Tyrant…” Shen muttered. “The mages say she was trying to steal another controlling brand. They executed her. Just moments ago.”

            I caught my breath and waited for the rest of the story. Shen offered nothing.

            I swung my legs over the side of the bed. “I should—”

            “Please stay,” Shen said, distress in his voice. “I don’t think you want to see it.”

            “See what?”

            “The execution wasn’t private. It will take a little while for the mess to be cleaned up.”

            My whole body went numb as I slowly pulled my legs back onto the bed. I knew it was foolish to fight against the mages, but I didn’t think they would attack one of the rulers during the auction. Had they hated her for flaunting their power? Then again, if the Witch Tyrant had been trying to steal from them…

            The mages would never tolerate such behavior.

***

            When I woke next, Shen was there to take me to the audience hall. He was quieter than normal, and I knew this was it. The bidding was over. I had been purchased.

            He led me through the empty ballroom. There were no more guests, no more music, no more food. The Astral Garden had all the warmth of a graveyard, and the chill seeped into my bones. What would become of me?

            Shen led me back to the audience room and motioned for me to sit upon my false throne. I did as he wanted, my mind buzzing without thought.

            The steward and administrator returned, this time with a small wooden box. The magick that radiated from within told me it was a brand. That was what mages created, why they were so powerful. The brands came in many forms—controlling, channeling, loyalty, transmutation, mortality, and divination—and they were a cheap and easy way for anyone to use magick.

            Normally, humans were incapable of such feats. Only mystical creatures, like myself, could innately use such powers. But the mages of the Astral Garden had discovered a way. They kept their brands from greedy hands, and used the magick for themselves.

            The steward opened the box and revealed a piece of black metal that was twisted into a horse-like shape. It was a kirin controlling brand. She would press it to my skin, and then to the skin of whoever it was to control me.

            I shuddered.

            The door to the audience room opened a second time and in strode the Berserker King.

            I hadn’t really looked at him before—just glances. This time I didn’t look away. I stared, openly, taking note of his every move.

            The Berserker King held himself with the effortless command of a man born to rule. When he walked to the bottom of the stairs that led up to my throne, he, too, stared at me with unflinching determination—and a touch of something more primal.

            The ebony wyrm scale armor he wore was, in fact, a masterpiece. Each plate seemed to emphasize the taut lines of his body, from the broad expanse of his chest to the powerful curve of his arms. It seemed less a tool of protection and more a second skin.

            His albino warrior returned as well. The man’s hair white was as fresh-fallen snow, fine and soft as silk, and it framed his pale face in ethereal contrast to his lord’s dark features. Though his build was slight, lacking the imposing bulk of the Berserker King, he carried himself with a confidence that bordered on defiance, as if daring anyone to question his place in this room.

            “Congratulations are in order,” the steward said. She had a smile in her voice as she added, “Would you like to do the honors?” The mage woman offered the brand to the Berserker King.

            “There’s no need,” the Berserker King said.

            Shock overcame me.

            The mage shook her head. “Pardon? Perhaps I wasn’t clear. I’m allowing you to place to her brand.”

            “You were clear—and so was I. There’s no need for the brand.” The king held out his head and then gestured for me to come. “I’ll be taking my kirin now.”

            “If you have no brand, you’ll have no control over your kirin,” the administrator stated.

            “There are plenty of ways to keep control. I don’t need your magick.”

            The steward stepped forward, practically blocking my view of the Berserker King. “If someone takes your kirin, they could brand her instead. If we brand her now, it prevents that.”

            “They can try to take her from me,” the king replied, his voice more a growl.

            “If she runs away—” the administrator began.

            “She can try to run away,” the albino interjected, his voice more a rasp.

            The steward and the administrator once again exchanged glances. The veils over their faces prevented me from understanding what transpired between them. How did they even know how the other felt? Their ways were a mystery, even in the end.

            “Very well.” The steward stepped out of the way. She motioned for me to leave. “But if she’s brought back to us, we will reclaim her and auction her off again. Do you understand?”

            The Berserker King still had his hand out toward me. “She won’t be returned.”

            My heart beat at such a hard rhythm I thought it would burst from my chest. When I turned to Shen, I realized he had his gaze on the floor. Was this real? Was the Berserker King taking me out of here without a brand?

            I slid off the velvety throne and hesitantly made my way down the steps. I didn’t take the man’s hand. I didn’t want to touch him. Instead, I stepped close and then waited. Was this a dream? Was this reality? Would a king who paid a fortune for me really be so foolish as to pass up a mage’s brand?

            When I glanced up, I met the king’s gaze.

            So intense.

            I immediately turned away. Whatever his machinations, he was certain about them. No doubt haunted his eyes. Only certainty.

            “Come,” the albino said to me. “We depart at once for the Thay Kingdom.”

            I walked to the pale man and nodded. Then the king joined us and we headed for the audience room door.

            “Once we arrive at the capital, we’ll likely have to deal with the traitors generals,” the Berserker King said, his voice barely a whisper.

            The albino opened the door and nodded. “Not to worry, my liege. You have a kirin now. All is going to according to plan.”

Chapter 4

The Winner

The Berserker King, Xin Fei

The Emperor of Wyrms, Fa Zen

The Seventh Reine, Lolai Ylladd

The Witch Tyrant, Gennori Han

Sun Shi

Imperator Lolan Ylladd

Queen

The Tyrant,

The Krol,

            Qilin could affect the tide of battle.

—unique people.

At the turn of every season, the masters of the garden invited individuals to peruse their magicks, artifacts, and ritual components. These ancient wizards didn’t take coin or bonds; they dealt in favors, land, and the promise of rare bloods. As such, they only sent word to kings, queens, warlords, and influential merchants or politicians. A pact with an old-world wizard couldn’t be broken, but their wares were always worth the price.

Amidst the silver plants sparkling in the dying sunlight, warring nations fought with whispers as they tried to outbid each other. They didn’t compete for an object or the ability to wield magick, they bickered over a person.

Not a human. A legendary kisin.

Kisin were born with slivers of stars in their blood, and capable of seeing the future. They rarely left their home on the mountains far beyond the clouds—on a peak humans could not trend. Such a unique auction resulted in extravagant promises. A kisin could turn the tide of war and lead a nation to prosperity. Even a dullard king with the wits of a broom would see his name forever written in history.

alongside magicks, artifacts, and