Know Me (Travel Thread)

Omi would travel with Yen-Li in utter silence for the first few miles. He had instructed her to maintain the level of meditation that he had taught on their first flight to the Isle of Whispers.  Their past was behind them, but some lessons should never be forgotten. Omi himself was deep in thought and reflection. He kept his breathing to a minimum as he sat indian style on the majestic cloud. There was so much about his own future he did not know. He was in uncharted waters and he had had the audacity to take someone with him. Yen-Li said that she trusted him, but was he worthy of her trust? He had manipulated her mind and used her heritage for Joki's benefit. Omi's goal was to undo that damage but first, he needed to make her strong and whole. The memories that she bore were painful and if she was not properly trained (mentally and physically) she could collapse from the trauma. He couldn't let that happen. Omi thus decided to dedicate himself to achieving that goal. He would return her past to her, but only when he felt she could bear it. Until then, he'd take care of her. He would protect her.

"“Có chí làm quan có gan làm giàu"
I've never thought myself to be a bold person....perhaps you are teaching me as I teach you Yen-Li.

Omi's position in the Society required that he learn various languages and dialects. He was the handler of dozens of operatives, each from different backgrounds. The burly man knew what Yen-Li had whispered to herself. This flight from the Society was a daring move. One that could provoke the organization's remnants against them. Nothing ventured, nothing gained Omi thought resolutely. He opened his eyes and turned to Yen-Li. She was riding on a cloud adjacent to his own. It was as if they were sitting side by side on a pair of chairs except they were hundreds of meters in the air. He placed a gentle hand on her knee letting her know that it was okay to break meditation.

"Yen-Li....you've seen much over the past few days. I think I owe you an explanation and not riddles nor vagueries. You deserve to know about our organization, about Joki, about Honiko and Nozomi...and most importantly about myself. I want you to know that no matter what happens, I will protect you. Our destiny has changed but our bond has not."

Even saying those words were hard. The guilt would always be in his heart. No matter what professions of kindness and guardianship he gave.

Yen-Li, ever the industrious student, continued her meditation as Omi instructed. She didn’t want to meditate though. She wanted to sing to the heavens, to laugh and cheer and cry happy tears of relief. She was learning to keep those impulses in check under Omi’s tutelage and the constant meditation. But oh boy was it difficult. Not as difficult as it had been when she first started, and even she could see that she’d made some progress, but it was the constant impulse to do something that she struggled with. She could feel a storm beneath her skin and calming it was quite the task.

When she felt Omi’s hand touch her knee she would turn to face him, a warm smile radiating the warmth she felt in her heart from the closeness and attention. And then he said her name. She loved hearing her name come from his lips, when he said it she felt. . . whole. “And here I was, finally getting used to riddles.” As she spoke she would attempt to place her own small hand over his larger one, a grin playing on her lips. “You don’t owe me anything Omi. If you don’t want to tell me about all of. . .” She would use her other hand to gesture broadly. “. . .everything, then you don’t have to. I would love to hear about you most of all of course, I’ve been curious ever since we arrived on the Isle of Whispers, and if I’m being honest since long before then even. But I meant what I said, I trust you, so that means that I don’t need to know anything. I know in my soul that everything that you do is in my better interest, and I have never once doubted that you would protect me.” Something about the way he had presented the topic irked her, it made her think that he thought she was owed. And she wasn’t. Plain and simple. She had chosen to go on this journey, she had chosen to place her trust in Omi - and not in exchange for anything at all. She didn’t need to know his private thoughts, though she would gladly offer an ear to them and a shoulder to lean on if he wanted it.

Assuming he had allowed her to place her hand in his, she would squeeze it gently and lean in a bit to put emphasis on her next words. “I will always be here, Omi, as long as you’ll have me. No matter what destiny throws our way, I’m with you.” It was a feeling she couldn’t place, but she felt the need to reassure him. She could imagine that with the life he’d lived it was difficult to believe someone wanted to be with him without an ulterior motive. Joki, Menza and who knows who else had always, from what she could imagine based on what she’d been witness to, treated Omi however they saw fit. They used him, like he was a commodity and not a man. Yen-Li saw the man, and she needed Omi to see that too.

Omi watched carefully as Yen-Li meditated. Even when she broke the trance, he could already tell. She was absolutely ecstatic. As a side-effect of the Genjutsu that he had used on her, there was a psychic connection between them. It wasn't telepathy or anything outrageous like that, tt was more a greater sense of attunement and it mostly ran in his direction. He had used it to keep tabs on operatives but with Yen-Li it was different. It was like being able to check someone's temperature so that you could better treat them. He knew Honiko had a similar method of keeping tabs on her students but he wanted to think his goals were more noble. Yen-Li's joy at finally being free was evidence of that line of thought.

He was proud of her ability to restrain herself. It was difficult to sit still when one had just been handed a new lease on life. Part of him wanted to toss her into the air and catch her. To sing, laugh and dance like he might have done if not for the years of cruelty that had marred his soul. Unfortunately, he could not partake in that joy. He knew too much. He was too aware of the dangers that they now faced. He did not want to give Yen-Li the impression that they were in the clear or that she should make a habit of wearing her happiness on her sleeve. He maintained a stern but amicable expression when making contact with her. There would be time for laughter another day.

Omi gave a gentle smile in response to her touch and joke. It was good that she had not lost her sense of humor though. She indicated that while she was curious about his background, she had no intention of prying. She was content with the status quo and in a way, so was he. It would be easy to just let the past remain the past. She wouldn't need to hear the why. In fact, it was probably beneficial that she did not. Omi's programming had made him largely unassailable in her eyes. Even if he had been beaten up by Joki or anyone else, he had ensured that her mind would always see him as a strong figure. It was necessary for her to respect him as part of their training and so he had hacked her brain to ensure that condition was always in place. He could unravel some of it now. He could be vulnerable. He had allowed her hand to interlace with his own and the squeeze reassured him. As powerful and menacing as he looked, it made his heart soften.

She thinks of me as not just a person but a hero. She's wrong....

Omi's free spirit had been taken from him long ago. The process of stripping him of his self-worth and independence had taken decades and it was only through an act of valor by an actual hero and the miracle of a God that he was able to overcome some of that abuse. She thought she could see more than just a shell but Omi knew her vision was clouded. She was seeing what he wanted her to see. Omi continued to hold her hand as he wrestled with how much he should tell her.

"You honor me beyond words" he managed to reply. "But I would be remiss as your teacher if I did not at least give you better insight into some of what happened at the Isle of Whispers. Joki told you a lot but there were some things he left out. Things he only told me. Perhaps I should start from the beginning......You see my story doesn't begin with my birth. It begins with my ancestor's birth."

Omi took a deep breath and exhaled. It was time to tell her.

Yen-Li kept her grasp of Omi’s hand, her features still alight with the joy she felt at being freed, and more importantly at Omi being freed. Her face lit up as she managed to get a smile from the stoic man, in the time that she’d known him such a sight seemed to be rare. That and he didn’t usually appreciate her jokes, which she didn’t take any offence to, her sense of humour wasn’t exactly what some would consider appropriate.

As he spoke she peered into his eyes, her own gaze filled with trust and love for the man who had been her constant source of strength. He spoke of secrets that had been told to only him, and she glowed with the pride that comes when a person realises that they are a trusted confidant. She would have been content to just sit and enjoy the air and sky with him, but he seemed determined to get these things off his chest and so she allowed it. “You honour me as well. I’m here to listen, but if you wish to stop then we can. Remember, you owe me nothing, em yêu.” It was the first time she had dared speak aloud her love for him, though even still she used the near forgotten language of her birth. A light blush would dust her cheeks as she spoke the words, but she would say no more unless directly asked to, focusing on listening to his story instead of speaking.

Omi recognized the word that Yen-Lì had used. My Love. It was a term of affection that he did not feel worthy of but he accepted it nonetheless. He pressed on and began to tell Yen-Lì the history of his ancestor. "I am a Descendant of the Wind Disciple, Harikēn...an archer who lived centuries ago during the Era of the Sage of Six Paths. Records of that time are scarce...so most of what I draw on is Jōki's own memories which are...unreliable to say the least. From what I've been able to gather from his testimony and the scant mentions in the annals of history Harikēn was a desert nomad who inhabited what we call today the Land of Wind. Like the other Disciples, he was a warrior unlike anything human civilization had seen before. Harikēn's people were nomads and often did not venture past the dunes of Eastern Wind Country but when they did, his arrows earned him a reputation as far as the Land of Demons. It was said that he did not miss, that once he notched an arrow, your soul belonged to the sky" Omi sighed. He had never been a combat specialist, not in the traditional sense of the word at least. Although sometimes he wondered how easy his life might have been if he was as strong as his ancestor. If he had the power to defy Jōki on day one, then perhaps he might have been spared the horrors of the last few decades.

"When the Sage of Six Paths selected his Disciples, he looked for the strongest warriors of his time. But more importantly, he sought in each of them characteristics that he felt embodied the spirit of mankind. Individuals with varying personality attributes that would balance each other out. They'd make up for each other's flaws and cover for one another's weaknesses. The very concept of Elemental Balance mirrors this philosophy. Jōki represented the forces of Control, Patience, and Detachment. Harikēn represented Independence, Freedom, Progress and Revolution. It was only natural that the two would come into conflict. Harikēn was the youngest of the Disciples. He had made a name for himself when he was just a boy and he had been raised up to serve the Sage when he was barely a man. The weight of Hagoromo's Dream was heavy and it weighed on each Disciple heavily. All of them except Harikēn that is. He cared for his sensei but by all accounts, he wasn't troubled by what would become of his philosophy. He lived in the present and felt that the only way to know the future was to get there. Mankind would chart its own destiny and no amount of coercion, violence or lecturing would change their natural evolution. Naturally, Jōki hated this. He insisted to me that Hagoromo despised this line of thought and only kept Harikēn close so as to keep an eye on him. At first, I believed him. I hated him and hated myself by extension. But as I grew older, I began to feel differently. Silently of course, but still sincerely. Hagoromo did not select Harikēn because he did not trust him, but because he trusted him the most. Hagoromo respected our species and knew that we could not simply be told or programmed to live a certain way. We'd need to be independent and if there was anyone that could ensure the Disciples did not overstep their boundaries, it was him. As I'm sure you've gathered from his speech, this line of thinking is in direct opposition to Jōki's own interpretation of the Sage's wishes. He and Harikēn fought often. The had come to blows more than once, their nations were in a state of peaceful tension and they constantly checked each other at meetings. Long after Harikēn had passed, Jōki had nursed his grudge against the Wind Disciple. He knew that the spirit of liberty that Harikēn embodied might live on again and threaten his future agenda. He never explicitly said it but over the years I realized why he had sought me out and kept me around. I am my ancestor's son. He needed me close to him but at his feet. From a young age he told me...."

"Your destiny is to correct Harikēn's folly and then die."

It was difficult for Omi to continue at this point. He had been an immovable block of stone for so long. Far longer than his time with Yen-Lì. But now he was almost moved to tears. The man's voice trembled and the pain in his throat grew unbearable. These were memories he had repressed and dared not look back on. It was dangerous to reflect on his childhood with regret. With Jōki's skill in Genjutsu, there was no telling what could be used against him. It wasn't until the Water Disciple was neutralized as a threat that he was now allowing these feelings to come to the surface. It was a vulnerable moment for him and ordinarily he'd prefer to make this journey alone. He squeezed Yen-Lì's hand. This wasn't the time to hold back though. He had helped her through her trauma for selfish ends and now she was giving him the gift of assistance without asking for anything in return. He would not reject such a gift. Omi cleared his throat and prepared to continue.

Yen-Li gave Omi her rapt attention while he spoke of the original Disciples. She knew some of it, or thought she did. She had heard stories and legends, but they were muddled and more hyperbole than anything based in fact. Omi’s retelling of events though, those she believed. They sounded like a first hand account, which Omi couldn’t have of course, but Hiza- Jōki certainly could.

Yen-Li imagined that she would enjoy Harikēn’s company, which told her all she needed to know about the relationship between Harikēn and Jōki. It also started to paint a picture regarding Jōki’s mistreatment of Omi, and why such a relationship existed at all.

When Omi retold what Jōki had said his destiny was, Yen-Li drew in a quick breath. It was a horrible thing to say to someone, and her heart broke for him. She could see that Omi was struggling with the retelling of this story, and so she sat and held his hand, squeezing it in return when he squeezed hers. She didn’t speak though, she wanted to give him all the space and time he needed to lighten the burden on his soul.

The reassurance of Yen-Lì's touch gave Omi the strength to continue. The manservant's experience with manipulation and brainwashing made him an expert in memories. He could recollect minute details from his childhood in an instant or suppress them for years at will. Omi remembered what his life was like before Joki. He remembered what the wind on his back felt like when he surfed the sands on his parent's sand skiff. He remembered what it was like to hear his father's stories by the desert campfire. He remembered his mother's laugh when they had plundered a merchant's larder and made off with enough food to feed a village. He also remembered their screams when Joki first introduced him to the concept of Destiny. As he spoke, he closed his eyes and tried to envision himself at the tender age of fourteen. Back then, he was young and thirsty for adventure.


"Before I met him....I was happy. I was born in the Land of Wind in the Great Sea of Sand. Despite the fact that my parents had named me for one of the most famous Clan Leaders in Earth Country history, they lived most of their lives outside of the law. Raiders of sorts. They were, what I think Nozomi would consider to be....tolerable individuals but to me they were heroes. We never stole from those who couldn't afford it and we never hurt anyone. We'd raid the merchant warehouses and trade caravans that had a bad reputation for overpricing their goods. They were turning a profit on people who could barely afford to pay and who had no one else to trade with. This was an environment where scarcity was a way of life but my mother and father did not see it that way. They saw an endless bounty for those with the courage and character to take it. We stole by night, took what we needed for ourselves and sold the rest for a fraction of what they were worth. My mother taught me how to pick a lock, how to move like a ghost regardless of your size and how to cook with the barest of ingredients. My father taught me how to sail the sands, how to negotiate like a true merchant and how to fight like a devil when the situation arose. We occasionally crossed back and forth over the border of the Land of Earth, going wherever opportunity arose. We were the Masters of our own Destiny and up until I was fourteen, I knew what true contentment and happiness was."

Omi shook his head ruefully as he remembered the exact day it all came crashing down. Change. It was the concept of metamorphosis that had saved Yen-Lì from her own grief, but it was also the very concept that took Omi's identity away from him. They had been using a combination of his father's Swift Release and his mother's bees to propel their sand skiff across the desert. He had been riding in the front as he liked to do. He called out obstacles, animals and traders as he flew across the dunes. It was a regular day for him and though it was decades ago, Omi could feel the ray of sunshine on his face. He could taste the salt of the Wind Country and hear the roar of sand as it rushed past.

He could also smell the scent of blood as mother's head was removed from her neck in an instant. It was only many years later that Omi would learn that Joki had used a particularly foul Suiton technique to accomplish the task. Omi's mother was not a trained shinobi, but he had seen her fight and she was a force to be reckoned with. Yet before he even knew what happened, she had been taken from him. He remembered being vaulted from his position on the skiff and tossed onto the ground. He could hear the roar of his father as he charged into battle. Omi's eyes were not fast enough to see the rest. He knew that a war was occurring around him though. A war for his life, or more aptly, a war for his way of life.

Omi's father was the source of his lineage to the Wind Disciple. This fact was reflected in how long he withstood Joki's assault. The Enlightened Custodian couldn't ascertain the exact length of time, but it was measured in minutes. Far longer than anyone else had lasted...until Nozomi that is. When the battle was finished, Omi was kneeling in the sand and covered in his parent's blood. The liquid shrapnel from the initial blow had cut his eyebrow in two. A scar that he'd keep for the rest of his life. He could recall the sound of his own sobbing and begging. At the time he thought he was as good as dead. They had managed to evade the Merchant Guild assassins that had come after them. They stayed one step ahead of their opposition and those they couldn't outrun, they could out-fight. Perhaps it would have been better if it was just some nameless assassin that had left him an orphan. Maybe he could have survived on his own without them, or even more darkly, maybe he was better of dead than in the power of the Water Disciple. Joki had frozen the tears on his face. He felt a paralyzing fear overcome him as he watched his skiff burn along with the bodies of his parents. He remembered how Joki had walked up to him like a shadow from hell.

Joki had said words then but the words didn't matter. Omi was so hysterical from grief that he was in no position to comprehend anything other than what had just happened to him. Joki had spared him further madness by knocking him unconscious. But in the years to come, all he wished for was that same sweet slumber.

"He took them from me. My mother and my father. He found us in the desert of the Wind Country and slaughtered them both. He made me watch. From that day on, he took me under his study. They taught me so much and he made me forget everything.  He told me that they were thieves and cowards. That they had wasted the blood that ran through their veins. That even Harikēn as foolish as he was, would be disgusted. He raised me to believe that this degeneration into criminality could only be excised by his discipline. He wanted to mold me into a warrior that served his mission and so he trained me in the art of Genjutsu. He taught me to harness my talents to new heights but he did it through beatings, torture, and manipulation. Nothing I did was ever good enough....he forced me to abandon love as a concept. All that mattered was Destiny. Duty. Service. I was born into this world a son but I'd die a slave...."

Omi found himself unable to continue. He hadn't truly explored these feelings for decades. He had silently endured the pain and torture. The questions and defiance had been taken from him long ago. He had accepted his fate. He knew that once Joki no longer had any need for him, he'd be put out to pasture. The bloodline of his long hated enemy would finally be extinguished and his reign assured. It was only when he met Yen-Lì did the spark of hope flicker in his soul once more. He felt he was beyond redemption now. The sorrow of his parent's murder, the guilt of the actions he took at Joki's behest and the inevitably of his doom had caused him to want nothing for himself. But perhaps he could still save Yen-Lì. Maybe he could live for someone besides his abuser. Maybe he could be something that his mother and father would be proud of.

As Omi explained his childhood to her, Yen-Li thought she could see a glimmer of that happy and carefree person he used to be before Joki had sunk his claws into him. It was probably just her imagination, but she could almost feel the warm wind and the joy that came with such a life. It warmed her heart to know that he had such memories, to have none at all would have been criminal. But she understood that to have such happy memories meant that it must hurt that much more, purely by contrast, to have new horrific memories impressed upon him by the Water Disciple.

She smiled joyfully as he described his journey around the Land of Wind, she imagined how wonderful it must have been for him, and how similar it was to what they were doing now. Freely flying through the world suspended by his bees, and just for a moment she was able to forget that there was a good chance they were being hunted for abandoning the Society. She would squeeze his hand once more, her voice still gentle but loud enough to be heard above the rushing wind. “That sounds like a wonderful childhood, Omi.”

The moment was short lived however, and as Omi continued she felt a pain in the pit of her stomach, as though someone had winded her. To go from such a happy childhood to watching his parents murdered in front of his eyes. . . she didn’t know how he could stand it. Tears of sympathy welled up in her eyes and she instinctively reached her other hand out to touch his arm, seeking to comfort him in the only way she felt she could in that moment. When he stopped speaking she was quiet for a moment, she kept her eyes on his face as she eventually broke the silence.

“Omi, that must hurt so much. You honestly are the strongest person I know, to endure all that pain and still be able to carry on. . . I know that doesn’t make it better. I can never give you back what he took from you. It isn’t fair, and you didn’t. . . don’t deserve any of that. Joki was wrong. I’m young and naive according to some, but I do know this; destruction causes change. Like a storm it can peel away the old and make room for growth, but storms only make room, they don’t create growth on their own. His way is flawed, and he willfully kept the most important thing from you. . . love. Your parents, friends. . . more. Those connections give us strength, they are the growth after the storm. He knew what he took and I hate him all the more for it.”

If he allowed, she would then attempt to place a hand on his cheek and turn his face to look at her directly. He was much stronger than her, so if he didn’t want to look at her it wasn’t as though she could force him, but whether he turned or not she would put stronger emphasis on her next words as she tried to will his soul to absorb them.

“You deserve love and you are not a slave. You are a free man and you can choose what you want. Joki is not here anymore, but I am. No matter what choices you make, what paths you choose to walk, I will be here to respect your wishes. I will walk with you, or not if that is what you choose. I know I can’t undo years of torment, but please believe me when I say that I believe in you. I care for you and I will do everything in my power to keep you safe and loved.”

Her violet eyes flashed with energy as she spoke, feeling a righteousness that she hadn’t in quite some time. She wanted him to believe her, but she imagined that would be difficult. She could only empathize however, having only a few memories of Joki and even fewer of her parents. The way he spoke of what Joki had taught him of his parents, she imagined that he had eventually internalized those ideas and was likely feeling guilty for them now. “I wish I could understand Omi, but I can only imagine. You aren’t wrong though, not for how you feel now, or for how you felt before. Not for anything you might have done, or felt or anything. I only had a small taste of the man, and it was enough for me to agree to anything he wanted. Do you think that makes me weak, or wrong, or bad? Because I don’t. The things you learned through his tutelage are useful and they are part of what makes you strong. Destiny and duty and service are all admirable qualities and ideals and I think that in those areas you are a paragon. But I personally do not hold you responsible for anything he tortured you into doing. . . like how you may have come to view your parents lifestyle for example.” She was going out on a limb drawing direct attention to her thoughts, it was definitely a stab in the dark but she wanted him to know that she wasn’t judging him.

Yen-Lì's kindness was soothing, but it could not quell the guilt in his heart. She now understood the tragedy of his life. It would have been better if he had been born and raised to be Joki's punching bag. At least that way he could have known nothing else but pain. The reality of his childhood however, only intensified his trauma. He had grown up happy and now he had nothing but a sweet girl whom he had mesmerized for Joki's sake. She tried to reassure him that he was a good man. That it was pure evil for Joki to steal his happiness from him and replace it with his cold ideology. Omi didn't disagree with her assessment of Joki, but whatever sins the Water Disciple had committed against him, he had earned by now. Omi was not some hapless victim that had been kidnapped from his home and kept in a cage. He had actively gone out on Joki's behalf and done his master's bidding. If he had a smidgen of courage or heroism in his soul he'd have cut his own throat rather than be turned into an agent of tyranny. The resistance had been beaten from him. Any hope of redemption was whipped from his body before he was even a man grown. Yet, he could have ended it all. He could have traveled to the highest mountain on Earth and leapt into eternity. He could have chosen to join his parents in a single act of defiance and yet he did not. He inflicted his woes on others.

There was a man in the Land of Waves that he had accosted. A family man who just so happened to be a brilliant fuuinjutsu expert. He had given the man a false choice: join the Society or watch his family perish. The man had followed him. He had kidnapped a young girl. She was a kunoichi with a rare bloodline that Menza needed for his designs and he had been ordered to bring her in alive or dead. He had hoped that if he managed to capture her alive that they'd take what they needed and release her. Instead, they used her to farm blood and marrow until there was nothing left of her psyche but a barren wasteland. He had bribed nations into starving their citizens just so that the newly established Society could profit from the resulting conflicts.

Omi turned his head to Yen-Lì. He did not resist her touch and while he looked her in the eye, she could see how unworthy he felt. He had always carried himself as a stoic guardian, but now he was completely vulnerable. How could he receive sympathy from her when he was just as compromised as his former leader? She reaffirmed her loyalty to him and she professed belief in his ability to chart his own destiny. The words elicited a single tear that ran down his hardened cheek. Despite all she had been through Yen-Lì was the model of defiance. He could see the sparks of energy in her eyes and the electrical force that appeared to dwell in her heart. She said that she did not judge him for the things he did while under Joki's yoke. He shook his head. Was this the real Yen-Lì? Or was this a product of the ideals Omi had put in her head? He wanted to confess. To tell her the wicked things Joki had made him do. But he could not without giving her a modicum of freedom.

She's strong. Stronger than even Joki and I realized. This illusion won't hold. She is her own woman. Her own reason for being.

Omi decided that he'd undo some of his technique. She was better off than she was when they first met, but still quite fragile. He couldn't restore all of her memories and personal agency yet without causing a mental breakdown. So he'd opt to do it gradually. He had been dreading this moment, but it was bound to come sooner or later. Yen-Lì's unconditional love for him and steadfast belief in his salvation was enough to make him take the first step. He looked her in the eye and replied: "That is very kind of you....I'm not sure if my past actions can be forgiven. I'm not sure if I can see things the way I used to. The way my parents taught me to see them. But I will not allow my misdeeds and failures to become yours. From this day on, I will teach you what I have learned. Not from Joki did but from my mother and father. I will teach you to be strong. To survive. To protect the weak and downtrodden. And if necessary, to fight the unjust. Nozomi may enlightened me to a new possibility but you have given me the inspiration to pursue it."

Omi did not care what happened to him. Joki had stolen his soul and as much as he loved Yen-Lì, he did not think it was in her power to steal it back. However, he was not going to let Joki have the last laugh. He may have turned his brother disciples' descendants into weapons, but he would not allow the same fate to befall Yen-Lì. He'd give her the self-sovereignty that had been denied him. And he'd start right now. Omi curled his finger into a half Tiger, held Yen-Lì's hand tightly, and returned her look of determination.

"I want to take a vow Yen-Lì. A vow to protect the common folk of this world. A vow to take from the cruel and give to the kind. A vow that they'd be proud of. Will you take this vow with me?"

As Omi looked her in the eye, Yen-Li could hear the rejection of her plea for him to forgive himself before he ever spoke it. She knew that a lifetime of guilt would not be undone in a single day and she didn’t want to discourage him further, but she shook her head gently as he insisted that he was likely beyond redemption. He was so strong and kind, now she just needed him to be as kind to himself as he was with her. “The future seems uncertain now Omi, but from where I’m sitting you have the whole world in front of you. That uncertainty isn’t a bad thing, it's a possibility.” She would gesture out towards the horizon and to the earth below them. Her statement was both metaphorical and literal as they flew through the air towards places unknown with no one to answer to but each other.

When he squeezed her hand tighter she smiled, her violet eyes lighting up with joy as he resolved to lend his power to those in need. She was so intent on the meaning of his words that the half tiger seal didn’t make its way into the forefront of her thoughts. “I will take this vow with you, Omi. I would do anything you asked of me, and not just because I wish to serve or please you. I believe in you, and I trust you. I don’t know the you from before, the you that you think doesn’t deserve forgiveness or compassion. I believe your words, but I also believe my own eyes. And the you I see now has earned my trust and my love, and that’s all I need.” She wanted to reassure him that this wasn’t blind faith and that he deserved this.

The hand that had been gesturing at their surroundings she would now gently place on his chest over his heart. “You have a good heart, you say that Joki taught you to forget love, but you didn’t abandon love. That’s not something he could take from you, your heart is stronger than Joki was cruel. When I was in danger, you protected me. You were willing to die on that beach, you very nearly did. All I had was a broken hand and you still carried me. You weren’t ordered to, or asked. No one coerced you or manipulated you into protecting and caring for me. That was just you and your indomitable goodness. I want to learn to be like you, I want to learn the things your parents taught you, so that one day I can be as brave and earnest as you are.” She would then press her hand more firmly onto his chest and stare directly into his eyes. She held his gaze and felt as though she could see straight into his soul. She thought she could see him. The pain, the regret, the guilt. But that wasn’t all she saw. There was also light and resolve and a tenderness that she felt violently protective of. She knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that Joki had not broken him. Omi was still there, still struggling to assert himself above the tragedy of Joki’s years of abuse.

“I. See. You.”

She was not so naive to believe that Omi had never done anything ‘wrong’. Of course he had, it would have been idiotic to assume that someone who was forced to be at the beck and call of Joki had never committed any transgressions. She had done her fair share of wrongdoings. Most of it was fuzzy since her memory just wasn’t the best, but she recalled missions that had definitely involved so-called ‘morally wrong’ actions. And if Omi could see past that in her, then she could see past that in him.

“And I stand with you. Always.”