Hanemi's Wish

"There weren't always dragons in the Valley," Hanemi said, looking at the village that stood around her and the children. "But after they came, we were able to survive."

Hanemi stood under a plum blossom tree nestled between two houses with rounded roofs, the wooden walls dark and sturdy. The village children sat around her with wide eyes and open mouths, wrapped in rich-colored robes and adorned with silver jewelry. Their childhood was nothing like the one she had endured, living with her mother and father in the single-room hovel that now stood at the center of the village.

Hanemi's gaze traveled from the children to the mountains that ringed them. Their village lived along the river that ran between two mountain ranges, their white peaks kissing the clouds. She took a breath of air that smelled of honey and rain, smiling at the plum blossoms that bloomed along the nearby river's edge.

She remembered when her home hadn't been so serene—when the plants were dead and withered, battered by the river that flooded every summer. She remembered when the mountains had seemed like looming walls meant to confine her. She remembered when her home felt like hopelessness.

But now, the snaking river and the staunch mountains made her smile, and the growing village, run amuck with young children and happy families, filled her with gratitude.

Before the dragons had come, Hanemi's village hadn't been a village at all. It had just been her and her parents before they'd passed. She had never understood why they'd stayed in a place so desolate and undesirable. Even the enemy soldiers who had passed through the village had snickered and laughed at her and her family whose house was too poor to rob. Hanemi now smiled at their ignorance, wondering what they might think of the home she'd built.

Since the dragons' arrival nearly twenty years ago, the village had expanded. Traveling merchants settled in the valley and built houses, starting their families along the river. Hanemi was revered as the village's founder, and she spent Saturday afternoons regaling the village children with stories of the dragons who had come and saved her home.

Hanemi could still remember when the twins of death had brought the four children to her. The four children who were not quite children. She had been young—not old enough to have birthed four children of their ages—and knew nothing of the world beyond her own finite experience. At the time, she had not known that the two beautiful twins who stood before her were Death itself.

Hanemi had been hunched over in the meadow, picking wild chrysanthemums to adorn her parents' graves when two people appeared before her. She dropped her flowers in surprise.

The two people were tall and slender, wrapped in black hanfu with white, floral embroidery at the waist and cuffs. Their skin was a tawny beige color that reminded her of summer sunsets, their eyes dark and thin. One was male and the other female, though they looked nearly identical, and they were the most unearthly beautiful creatures she had ever seen. She stared at them, forgetting to introduce herself. Even though she hadn't known they were the twins of death, she felt their importance radiate from them, and her own insignificance made her want to cower.

Four children peeked out from behind the twins' black robes. Hanemi's eyes scanned over them. They watched her. The oldest child couldn't have been more than ten years old.

"These are gifts from the gods," one of the twins of death said. He looked down at the children and ushered them from behind his clothes. Hanemis' breath caught. They were giving her children?

The boy standing at his right had a dark, copper complexion. He looked at her with waiting eyes, his face as calm as the cloudless sky above. He stepped forward.

"My name is Greere." He bowed his head, his long, wavy black hair falling over his shoulders. "This is my brother, Inari."

Hanemi's eyes went to the other boy. He had lighter skin, the color of white sand, and his red hair was cut close to his head. He smiled, an excited and mischievous glint in his eyes, as he bowed to Hanemi. She opened her mouth to ask what these strange twins expected her to do with two boys, but the other twin put her hand on two girls' shoulders, pushing them out from behind her.

The shortest and seemingly youngest of the children stepped obediently forward, glancing to the two boys as if looking for confirmation. She smiled, her white teeth flashing against her dark skin.

"My name is Arihi." She bowed deeply, golden cuffs adorning her braided hair piled on her head. Hanemi's eyes went wide at the idea of a child wearing such wealth.

"And our sister, Lahar." Greere held out a hand to the last girl. She had sharp features and golden skin. As she stepped forward, her keen eyes cautiously regarded Hanemi. She nodded her head.

Hanemi stared at the four children. These are gifts from the gods, one of the twins had said, but what was she to do with them? They were spotless, without a speck of mud on their skin, and their clothes looked fresh and clean. Arihi wasn't the only one wearing gold. Hanemi noticed the earrings hanging from Inari's ears and the copper bands on Lahar's wrists.

She looked from the children to the twins. They watched her expectantly, their eyebrows raised. Hanemi frowned.

"Why are you giving them to me?"

Did they want her to watch over them? Why? What could she—a peasant who had never traveled beyond her home and lived her life praying she wouldn't be swept away by the river's floods—possibly give to these children, who already had more than she had ever possessed?

Hanemi glanced between the children. Greere watched her openly, his eyes steady and his hands still at his side. Inari's attention was held by the sky, then the mountains, and then the grass at his feet. Lahar frowned, her arms crossed, but she was more adorable than threatening. Hanemi found herself trying to suppress a smile. Arihi was looking at her siblings and settled on mimicking Greere's curious expression.

What was Hanemi supposed to do with them?

"They're here to keep you company," one of the twins said. She and her brother stepped back from the children.

"And you're here to guide them," her brother finished. They stepped back again and disappeared.

Hanemi blinked, her stomach dropping, and she fought the urge to call out to the twins. She stared at the children. Guide them? Like a mother? She gulped. The children watched her, waiting. Who was she to say no—to these children and to the gods?

She knelt down, wary of their gazes that followed her. She smiled at them, almost embarrassed to reveal her crooked and rotting teeth. Compared to them, in her shabby, torn, and muddy clothes, she looked pathetic, but they did not shrink away from her.

"My name is Hanemi."

The wind picked up, blowing Hanemi's hair over her forehead. She brushed it aside and saw that the flowers on the ground began to lift, the air blowing in rings around her ankles. Her heart pounded and she blinked, sure that she was imagining the sight. She reached out her hands, and the flowers landed in them.

Greere dropped his arm, grinning at her. "It will be nice to have a mother."

Hanemi's mouth fell open. "Did you...?" She looked at the flowers to him, and Inari began to laugh. Lahar looked away, shaking her head.

Arihi grinned and stomped her foot. A rock shot upward, startling Hanemi. She gasped and fell back as the rock floated in the air for a few seconds before falling back down with a thud.

Hanemi shook her head. She opened her mouth, but there were no words. "Are you all..." she couldn't think of a word to describe what she was seeing.

Lahar's expression softened. "Yes, we're gifted," she said, her tone surprisingly patient. Her eyes studied the flowers in Hanemi's hand before focusing on the grass between her feet. Lahar frowned, her brow furrowing in concentration. Chrysanthemums sprouted from the dirt, the stems rising and a few of them blooming. Hanemi gasped, reaching to feel their petals. She smiled at Lahar, and Lahar turned away, tucking her hair behind her ear in embarrassment.

"Show-offs!" Inari teased. He grabbed Hanemi's wrist and pulled her to her feet. "Follow me to the river," he said, his eyes gleaming with excitement, "and I'll show you what I can do!"

Hanemi didn't have time to think before Inari tugged her through the field. Her feet pounded against the floor of the shadowed forest as she ran alongside the children. For the first time since her parents died, she felt the warm excitement and innocence of hope rising within her. It was so strong, it was all she could do to keep from bursting into free-spirited laughter.

Inari skidded to a stop at the river's edge. He bounced on the balls of his feet as he stood with his hand outcast and his fingers extended. The river swelled below his touch, faint ripples stretching up to splash his skin.

He turned and looked at Hanemi. "See, I can do it too!"

She clapped her hands together, her laugh escaping. "Very good!"

"There's something else you should know," Lahar said, her voice quiet.

"What is it?"

Greere raised his head to her. "You're not afraid of monsters, are you?"

"Monsters?"

Greere and his siblings looked at each other. Hanemi's stomach dropped as she felt the air change. The river swelled, the earth shifted, and the forest leaned toward them as the four children disappeared, replaced by tiny dragons with long bodies, stubby feet, and delicate wings.

***

Hanemi guided the dragon children as they grew. She sheltered them in the small home she'd inherited, keeping them safe as the seasons battered and threatened their refuge near the river. She taught them how to survive, showed them how to share, and answered their questions about the world.

As they grew older and learned to control their gifts, they began to protect Hanemi and the home they shared.

Greere controlled the skies. When the rains pummeled and beat her straw roof, he stood outside, becoming drenched and opening his arms skyward. The rain would calm, and the leaks in her roof would slow.

Inari commanded the water, and whenever the river was close to flooding, he would stand in front of it, frowning and crossing his arms as if daring it to overflow.

Arihi influenced the earth. She sat beside Inari in the mud, pressing her fingers into it. One spring, the two of them changed the course of the river so that its waters never threatened their home again.

Lahar spent summer days with Hanemi, planting and tending to crops that would keep them fed through winter.

Hanemi gave them everything she could—sewing them clothes, building them rooms, cooking their favorite meals. When merchants came, the children would show off for them, trading their magic for rare metals and spices, but they never revealed their dragon forms. Years later, the merchants returned and requested that Hanemi allow them to stay.

The village grew alongside the dragons, and as Hanemi grew older, creating a community for herself, the dragons grew restless for adventure. With each passing year, they traveled farther and farther from home. Greere spent days flying up the snowy peaks of the mountains, creating maps and speculating what might lie beyond. Inari sailed the river, catching fish and letting the ones he favored the most go. Lahar cultivated crops in the fields and groomed the forest, stamping out any disease or invasive species that threatened nature's peace. Arihi spent her time underground, finding rare and precious gems to craft knives and jewelry.

Hanemi was telling the village children about the time the dragons moved the river when a plume of smoke caught her eye. The sound of horse hooves reached her ears, and her heart began to beat faster. She thought of the soldiers that had laughed at her years ago. Fear filled her as she wondered what men like them might do to her and the people of her village now.

She ushered the village children to their homes. She raced toward the river's edge. She watched as the black plume expanded, taking over the sky like an incoming storm. Horses and men appeared on the opposite bank, their armor as black as the robes worn by the twins of death. The men knocked flaming arrows, their bows aimed upward and their fire ready to burn her village. Hanemi cried out as their arrows flew, wishing her dragons would return home.