After the fires had been doused and the dead buried, the army moved
onward — marching through mountain passes and dust-ridden valleys. Li
Xian rode at the rear of the caravan, still wearing the same scorched robe
from the night of the fire.
Days later, they reached a bustling trade camp near the western border.
Merchants from the Western Regions had gathered under bright tents, their
stalls glittering with glass beads, spiced wine, painted scrolls, and caged
animals.
Li Xian walked among the stalls, searching for replacement herbs and cloth.
As she turned a corner behind a red-and-gold canopy, she stopped.
There it was — a large blue-and-gold macaw, caged in rusted iron.
Its feathers were dulled by dust, but still held a shimmer of color beneath
the grime. It sat still, unmoving, as if time no longer touched it.
A weathered merchant with missing teeth spat at the ground.
> "That one? Cursed bird. Doesn't eat. Doesn't speak. Just stares like it's
haunted."
Li Xian stepped closer. She crouched, peered into the bird's eyes — and saw
not a beast, but something that felt alive in a different way. Its eyes followed
her.
She whispered, "Sky."
The macaw blinked once. Then twice. Then — in a dry, slow voice that
seemed pulled from a dream — it said:
> "Sky."
The merchant laughed uneasily. "Well, now that's a first."
Li Xian stood. "How much?"
"I'll give you a discount if you take that cursed thing off my hands."
She paid with three silver coins and half her medicinal stock.
She opened the cage. The bird didn't move at first — but when she held out her arm, it climbed up slowly, its claws light but firm.
It perched on her shoulder as if it had always belonged there.
General Yuwen noticed as she returned.
> "A parrot, now? Planning to talk to rebels?"
She smiled faintly. "No. Just someone to listen."
That night, she fed the bird soaked rice and date paste with her fingers. It
ate slowly, watching her.
When she lay by the campfire, wrapped in her cloak, the bird spoke again —
soft, uncertain:
> "Sky."
She looked at it. "Yes. That's your name now."
It tucked its head beneath its wing.
For the first time in days, she slept without dreams.