Nameless/ Ryu

Ryu. The Japanese word for dragon, among other meanings. Why would she choose a word from another language for him? Why that word?

Well, it was something. More than his master had ever given him.

A name was nothing. Just a sound to know your servant by. It cost the master nothing. And even that had been too much to ask for.

Well, he had a name now. A nickname at least. That was sweet of the girl. Even though she thought he wasn't telling her his name because of a lack of trust. It wasn't. He didn't trust or mistrust her. He didn't know her well enough to make a determination of her trustworthiness.

“Ryu? Sounds cool,” said the boy now introduced as Jacob.

Something oddly warm settled in the nameless, no, Ryu's chest at the sound of the name. Odd. It almost felt like... like back when Roger had given him a name, so long ago. But. That was ridiculous. This wasn't a chosen Master naming their Familiar. There was no bond. Just a kind girl-child offering a bit of comfort to a dying stranger.

He glanced from child to child. None of them were aware. He was fooling them. Talking more, keeping his voice strong and steady. Watch the posture. Slumping implied weakness. Keep the trembling to a minimum. That was the hardest. He was so starved he could hardly see straight, and somehow he'd convinced himself to hold his head high and pretend to be fine.

Who knew he had the talent for acting? It wasn't a skill he'd ever tested before.

He could not keep the illusion up for long, though.

“Is that okay with you?” Claire asked.

Still strange to be asked his wishes on any subject. Had it truly been that long?

He nodded. “It is perfectly fine.” He looked around. “I don't suppose. I could perhaps, rest, briefly? It has been a long night.”

“Yeah,” Claire echoed his sentiment, and yawned. “I'm kind of tired, too.”

“No wonder,” Jacob said. “Look how late it is! Hang tight, I'll grab some pillows.”

Ryu would have demurred, they had already made him comfortable enough, but the boy had already left the room. Claire crouched next to the couch and retrieved the blankets that had scattered during the effort to remove the manacles.

“Here we go,” she said, pulling out the warmest ones and offering them to him. “All warm and cozy.”

“I... you should take the thicker blankets for yourself,” Ryu protested. The girl kept only one sheet and one soft woven throw blanket for her own!

“You're shivering,” Claire pointed out. “You've lost way too much blood and you were out in a storm in mid November. You need to raise your core temperature and that means you take the best blankets.”

She twisted around and accepted one pillow from Jacob, which she tossed to the smaller couch. Wait.

“I'm shorter than you,” Ryu pointed out. “I should take the smaller couch.”

Claire shook her head again, and took two more pillows from Jacob, which she placed on the couch next to Ryu. “This is the softer couch. I know, I've slept on both enough times. You're injured, you take the better couch.”

“But it's not right,” Ryu protested.

“Why not?”

He opened his mouth to explain, and found himself at a loss. Her reasoning was sound; he just wanted her to have the better sleeping arrangement because of her age and gender.

Well. It wasn't that important. He wasn't resting long, just long enough for the children to fall asleep. He could salve his conscience by giving her the extra blankets before he left. And he'd be warm and comfortable until then; he couldn't deny he'd like that. It was going to be cold out in the storm.

He should insist on leaving right that moment. He truly should. But the children would never let him go. And even though they said they'd respect his wishes, he had a feeling if he expressed a desire to walk out into the icy rain he'd find himself sat on. For his own good.

No, better to give in just a little to his exhaustion, rest his eyes just a short while, and leave when they were all asleep and could not argue against it.

He felt just a touch guilty about the deception; about accepting their help and wasting their time. He should have left. Should have refused to get into the car with the girl, insisted she release him. He had not. He'd been selfish, drinking in the innocent kindness she and her friends offered so freely. Now, they would wonder what had become of him. Now, they would worry. And that was his fault.

Ah, well. They would forget in time. They would search, perhaps, or call the authorities. Soon enough they would go on with their lives and he would be nothing but a minor mystery.

He supposed it was alright to be just a bit selfish, just this one last time.

He hadn't lied to the children about one thing. He was exhausted. He honestly wasn't sure if he would be able to walk very far. Perhaps a little rest would help. Let him gather enough strength to do what had to be done.

He could not very well let himself die here, on the couch. That would surely traumatize these children, and they did not deserve that.

He curled up on the couch, on his side to spare his back. Claire leaned in and tucked a pillow against his chest. He tensed at having anyone looming over him. Not that he could better defend himself in an upright position, nor that he needed to defend himself from the girl. Instinct was instinct, and it had been fairly well beaten in to him that lying down helpless while someone else stood over him meant pain.

Of course the girl noticed his flinch. She smiled at him sadly, and stood away after tucking a blanket up to his chin. Giving him the space he needed to relax without his having to ask.

“Thank you,” Ryu said. He felt he should at least say the words. She had helped him for no reason beyond that she seemed to feel it was the right thing to do. He had nothing but words to offer in return

“Sure.” Claire yawned. “I'm going to head to bed, well, couch myself,” she looked around at the other two. “Suddenly I'm exhausted. Guess everything just hit me.”

“I'll get the lights,” Jacob offered, moving to the far wall by a set of stairs that presumably led to their sleeping rooms.

“Good night,” Claire chirped as the light clicked off.

The boys returned her salutation, and meandered up the stairs.

Ryu did not intend to truly sleep; he only wanted just a few more minutes of rest and warmth and comfort. He needed to marshal his strength. Walking into the storm after all this, when he could barely stand, was not something he looked forward to. Still. It was the best way. The only way.

So, he'd just close his eyes for a moment. Just... one... moment.

His sleep was deep, dark and dreamless. A relief, that; the only dreams he had left in him were nightmares and being allowed to skip that in the end was an unexpected boon.

It was not the pale bar of winter sunlight across his cheek that woke him. It was the lack of hunger.

For so long he had been driven by the hunger. It was his only constant between one Master and the next. The constant starving for just a trickle of energy, just enough to fuel the body. Most were grudging, stingy. Given enough for survival but never enough to satiate. It was the hunger, not the bond, that forced his obedience.

This last master had been brutal. Had kept him on the razor edge of starvation, too distracted by the pain to fight back effectively, though there had been some flailing, instinctive attempts to retain his dignity, his self. The rat poison probably hadn't been the best idea. With more strength he'd have had the patience to learn that the formula had changed over the years. That one had cost him. So much. The damage to his back... well he wouldn't be alive long enough to mourn that loss.

Strange, though.

The hunger was just. It was gone. The lack of that pain was what woke him.

He felt... not dead. Which, how? He should have died in the night. That was why he'd meant to leave!

Wait.

If the hunger was gone... then his Master was near enough to feed him.

The children!

His Master would think nothing of hurting them, even killing them, for daring to interfere with his property. And they had interfered, by taking him into their home, by removing the manacles.

There was a scream, nearby. The girl-child, Claire.

No.

No, he would not allow this. He would not stand by while his Master harmed a child. He had the strength, now, to stand. He could fight.

He would fight.

He rolled off of the couch, ignoring the pain from his wounds. He opened his eyes and took in the room. It looked just as it had the night before, only now bathed in sunlight. There was no threat visible. No Master standing over him, mocking, threatening.

There was only the girl, asleep on the other couch. She whimpered, and he understood. The scream had come out of nightmare, not imminent danger.

He went to her side and knelt, reaching out with the vague idea of soothing her before he left. He didn't understand how he was still alive, how he had strength now. It didn't matter. He had to get away, before his Master found him and hurt these children. He had to run.

His hand brushed the soft skin of the girl's cheek. Just the lightest touch.

Lightning arced up his arm, and the world shattered.

The energy wasn't coming from his Master at all.

The strength even now flooding his form, healing his hurts and granting him the magic he needed to live... came from her. From Claire.

But how? It made no sense! She was no mage; he'd have sensed it if she had magic! She would have known what he was, if she was a mage.

Yet. He pulled his hand away, and the thread of energy stopped. Evidence enough.

How?

He thought back to the splintered mess of his recollection of last night. The manacles came off. That severed his bond to his Master. He looked down at his wrists, at the bandages there. The girl had done that... and her hand had been cut.

Some of his blood must have touched hers. Even just a drop was enough. He'd forgotten the blood bond; it was used so very rarely. He hadn't thought it could be done on accident. But he'd been so desperate, so hurt and so starved... would his magic have accepted a Master with no magic of her own, who didn't know what he was? Who wasn't even offering a contract?

Apparently so.

Hellfires. The child had even given him a name. And he'd accepted it. Thought of himself even now as Ryu. Just an offhand choice, a moment's whim. But the blood, the cut... the name and his acceptance.

It was enough.

Well.

The girl called out again in her sleep. Ryu turned and knelt; he needed to tend to his new mistress.