novelraw Chapter 45: Dreams
Chapter 45: Dreams
After instructing Raphaëlle to keep an eye on Larr, Angela, and the others, Fischer took his cane and followed Qiqi alone down the street. No matter how fast a child could run, she’d never outrun Fischer. He watched as she darted into a side alley, and by the time he arrived, she had seemingly vanished.
But he spotted a hem of dark green fabric beneath a stack of crates—her dress.
And along with the sway of that dress came soft sobs.
Fischer sighed and stepped into the alley with his cane.
“The little swallow cries out to the great dragon, her voice tiny but brimming with passion.‘I am but a swallow, the smallest of all birds, who loves the mightiest creature on earth. Though our heights are worlds apart, I stand eye to eye with your soul, and from there, I shout my love to the skies...’”
He recited the lines softly as he walked. It was a passage from Song of the Dragon-Loving Swallow, a long poem written by Madame Lauffan during a poetry gathering in Saint Nary years ago. It told the story of a little swallow falling in love with a dragon. Fischer always felt it was just Lauffan pandering to poor girls fantasizing about marrying rich men—but he never denied her literary talent.
By the time he finished reciting, he had reached the crates. Qiqi, hugging her knees beneath them, looked up and met his gaze.
“That’s... Madame Lauffan’s poem, isn’t it?”
She blinked, tears slipping down her cheeks.
Seems she hadn’t read Lauffan’s romance collection before—not surprising, given Fieron probably wouldn’t hand her something so youthfully sentimental. Fischer squatted beside her and nodded.“You’re clever. How did you know?”
“Madame Lauffan’s poems always fill my head with so many pictures when I hear them... so I remember the way she writes,” Qiqi said while wiping her tears with a small hand. Then she pouted and added, “I wanted to share that with Angela... but I ruined everything. My ears showed.”
“Angela must’ve been scared. After all, the only ones with ears and tails like ours in her world are the big bad wolves in fairy tales—wolves who eat children. She probably thinks I’m one of them.”
Growing up among humans, even speaking their language and dressing like them, Qiqi had always noticed her differences—differences from her father and the storybook heroes she’d read about. She hadn't left Fieron’s inner city in a long time, unable to forget the disdainful looks she’d get, even with Fieron by her side.
“Even a little swallow has to be honest about who she is, no matter how small. Hiding and making yourself feel small doesn’t build lasting friendships. It’s better to face things head-on. A real friend won’t run from you just because you have ears or a tail.”
“Sure, some of that depends on how they see you, but you have to trust them too. Do you have that kind of confidence?”
Fischer wondered—though he was a researcher by trade, ever since coming to the Southern Continent, he felt more like an unpaid childcare worker.
“R-really?” Qiqi’s little hands clenched. She slowly crawled out from under the crates. “I... I want to go see Angela. If she doesn’t like me... can I hide in your arms?”
“...If it comes to that, I’ll lend you my arms for a bit.”
Fischer gently took her hand and led her out of the alley. Ever since they left the inner city, he’d been wary of Fieron laying traps—against him, Qiqi, or Raphaëlle and the others.
But even after some time, nothing seemed out of place. It really did seem like Fieron simply wanted Qiqi to go out and meet her pen pal.
“Qiqi!”
Angela spotted them from across the street and ran toward Qiqi, throwing her arms around her.
“I’m sorry, Qiqi. My uncle scared you...”
“I’m sorry too, Angela. I’m actually a demi-human... I never told you.”
“But your ears are really cool! Are they wolf ears? Can I touch them?”
Fischer left the two kids to themselves and lit a cigarette as he walked over to Raphaëlle.
After all, children weren’t born with hate or prejudice—it was all taught. Just like Larr completely trusted him despite him being human.
But Raphaëlle stared at the scene for a while, then suddenly reached out and held Fischer’s hand. Her claws were gentle, no different from the delicate hands of a Nary noblewoman. Warm, too.
“Holding my hand adds one more punishment.”
She glared at him, confused why a man with such warm hands could say such cold words.
“You’re really...”
She tried to pull her hand back, but he held on. Her resistance weakened with each passing moment until she gave up entirely.
Well, the punishment these days was more like...
Not really punishment anymore. Once, twice—many times. It didn’t matter.
Raphaëlle was happy, after all.
With those odd thoughts bouncing in her head, Raphaëlle’s tail swayed joyfully, and even the coming evening felt a little more pleasant.
As Qiqi said goodbye to Angela and came running back, cheeks flushed, Fischer stubbed out his cigarette and let go of Raphaëlle’s hand—he still had supplies to buy for their journey out of town.
“Fischer! Larr finished your coffee for you! It was kinda bitter, but Cachil said my tongue turned colors. Wanna see?”
“Alright, Larr, sit tight. We’re heading out to shop.”
Fischer patted Larr’s head and helped her into the carriage. When it came time for Qiqi to get in, she didn’t go to the back with the others—she sat right beside him.
As he turned to look at her, she blushed and bowed.
“Mr. Fischer, thank you for taking me out today. I’m sorry for the trouble.”
Fieron had taught her human manners—say thank you or sorry when you trouble others. If not for her appearance, she was no different from any other human child.
“No trouble at all. I promised your father I’d look after you. Say, do you really like reading?”
Dry text was like poison to most kids her age—never mind drawing enjoyment from it. But this little demi-human girl was clearly an exception.
“Mmhm! I love reading poems and stories. Someday, I want to write lots of wonderful things like Madame Lauffan, so tons of people can read them! I told Papa, and he told me to practice—starting with letters. That’s why I started sending letters to people outside.”
She clutched her skirt and glanced shyly at Fischer.
“Mr. Fischer, are you a famous scholar too, like Papa?”
“I wouldn’t say famous. I just know a few things here and there.”
Most of the young scholars in Saint Nary thought he was a heretic. Otherwise, they wouldn’t constantly buy the latest academic journals just to attack his theories in rebuttal essays to pad their own publication requirements.
There was a well-known saying among them: “Fischer’s articles feed half of Saint Nary’s young scholars.” And it wasn’t far from the truth.
Before coming south, Fischer got so tired of the academic bickering that he reported it to the dean of the Royal Academy. Rumor had it the dean stormed into the institute and smacked their butts himself, then banned them from writing anything more about Fischer. Only then did the chaos die down.
“Then, Mr. Fischer, can I write to you after you go back to Saint Nary?”
Fischer glanced at the young Werekin beside him, her ears perked up. With a sigh, he pulled a fountain pen from his coat.
“Got anything to write on?”
“Ah—here! I’ve got an envelope!”
“I’ll write you my address. When you send it, make sure to put my full name on the envelope—Fischer Benavides. And don’t forget to write where you’re sending it from. Got it?”
“Got it!”
Watching Fischer’s elegant Nary script flow across the envelope, Qiqi clutched it with joy and ran back into the carriage.
After that, Fischer took them around the city to stock up on supplies. Only then did they begin the return trip to Fieron’s inner city.