Torment, p.1
Torment, page 1
part #1 of Dragons of Tenghua Series
Copyright © 2024 by Mari Dietz
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Even though this story is inspired by my love for dragons, South Korea, and Japan, it is its own fantasy world. I hope you love it!
Created with Vellum
Contents
Trigger Warnings
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Thank you
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Mari Dietz
Trigger Warnings
Thank you for picking up my book. There are a few triggers that I want readers to be aware of:
Contemplation of suicide
Abuse
Bullying
If you’re thinking about suicide, are worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is available 24/7 across the United States. Please call 988.
Please know that you are not alone.
Torment
DRAGONS OF TENGHUA
MARI DIETZ
To my sister, Nicollee, a woman with fierce determination and the kindest loving heart. Thank you for believing in me even when I don’t believe in myself.
Chapter One
The pain of hunger only helped Mei focus on the storefront of Fat Choi’s outdoor fish display. The sharp tang of raw fish should have put her off eating, but despite the overwhelming sourness in the air, her mouth watered.
Turn your back. Go on, Mei thought. With unblinking eyes, she studied Fat Choi. He worked briskly for a chubby man. His fat rolls vibrated under his shirt with his back-and-forth movements as he bickered with customers over the price of the latest catch. She swirled the saliva around in her mouth and swallowed, hoping it would trick her stomach into thinking she’d fed it. Her body had weakened in these last few days.
Mei thought Fat Choi was the perfect target since she didn’t see his dendragon roasting the raw fish to perfection in its usual spot. She scanned the area one final time to make sure she hadn’t missed it. Only bright silver fish scales gleamed in the early morning sun. The dead eyes could stare at her all they wanted. They wouldn’t tell tales.
I must be insane. The old vegetables Mei had found in nearby trash piles couldn’t satisfy her or her father’s hunger. She pretended not to notice the way his hands trembled or how the cloth was sometimes tinged with red when he coughed. They needed meat, and the scraps she’d found last week had made them both violently ill. Mei gagged at the memory of having spent a day near the hand-dug privy. She chewed the inside of her cheek and leaned onto the balls of her feet. Shivering in the chilly morning breeze, she planted her hands on the soft dirt road.
Fast. Go fast! Every time Fat Choi turned his back, Mei froze, her body tense. It couldn’t be wrong to steal to stay alive.
She tucked a greasy strand of hair behind her ear. You can do this. Don’t think about the punishment. You won’t get caught.
Fat Choi turned again, this time his arms waving in argument, probably over money. Now.
Mei pounced toward the stand, snaked her hand out, and snatched the fish by its slimy fin. She turned and rushed down a neighboring alley. Her heart pounded in time with her frantic gait. Hoping to get away before anyone noticed the theft, she passed the stands hidden in the shadows. The smells promised herbs that could heal anything. Those who couldn’t afford treatment from homdragons were the only ones tempted to shop. The dirt turned into mud the farther she ran, and the mud squelched between her bare toes. Just ahead, Mei saw the light at the end of the alley that led to the busier section of the Market district. A small smile formed as her escape into the bustling crowd approached.
Her legs stretched out, and then they flew even farther forward, while her head and neck were jerked back. Mei choked and gasped as a long chain tightened around her neck. She landed backward in the mud.
Dropping the fish, Mei clawed at the chain around her neck. Footsteps thudded behind her in the alley’s muck. Flakes of mud sprayed her face as people stopped near her head. She could only see the deep blue uniforms of the city guard. Mei went numb, and an empty feeling entered her chest. It’s over.
“Is this it?” a deep voice said from behind Mei’s head.
Wheezing came from behind the guard. “Yes.” Mei recognized Fat Choi’s voice. “That scab watched my stand for over an hour. I knew the gutter trash would strike eventually.”
A loud squawk came from Fat Choi’s direction—the dendragon agreeing with his words. Mei silently cursed herself. Shelling baka, you are. It was there all along.
Mei closed her eyes and tried to breathe around the tight chain of the kusarigama. Only a little air came through. A muddy boot nudged her shoulder, and she remained limp.
“Did you snap its neck?” Fat Choi asked.
“Nah, playing dead.”
She jerked when a sharp pressure shot through her left hand. Mei’s eyes opened, and she tried to sit up, but someone held the chain tight and yanked her neck back down. Something popped loudly in her hand; bones had broken. She bit her tongue, refusing to give them the satisfaction of screaming, but there was no controlling the tears leaking out of her eyes.
She met Fat Choi’s eyes, his face looming over her as his giant body blocked out the sun by the exit of the alley. He stood on her hand, applying pressure to the broken bones.
The guard hoisted her up by the chain, and Mei sputtered for air, but thankfully, it released her hand from Fat Choi. Her left hand burned as they pulled her like a dog out into the open street. The dull fish lay discarded in the alley. I’m sorry, Father.
Mei bowed her head in the sun, and Fat Choi led her and the guard back to his shop. They halted in the front of his stand, and he turned around to face Mei, her head still lowered.
“That will be fifty silver.” His hands rested on his fat sides.
“I don’t even have the fish anymore,” Mei muttered. “Way overpriced.”
Fat Choi backhanded Mei across her jaw. “Thieves don’t get to decide the price.”
The salty taste of blood fueled her. She resisted the urge to spit. “I don’t have any money.” Still studying her feet, she heard whispers from the crowd gathered around them. What would her punishment be? There would be no trial for an eta like her. Some thieves lost their hand, others were beaten, and some were hanged in the center square.
If they decide to cut off my hand, hopefully they will take the broken one, Mei thought. A calm filled her. Her fate would be decided soon.
The guard took out a short leather strap and led her to a wooden pole covered in splinters. With quick movements, he latched her hands down so he could remove the chain from her neck. His sky-blue dendragon clutched his shoulder, and its sharp eyes kept watch.
Mei flinched with pain as she wiggled her left hand. Not daring to tug at her restraints, she stood hunched over, her back to the crowd.
“Fifty silver, fifty lashes?” the guard asked Fat Choi.
Fat Choi’s face scrunched up, making his triple chins wiggle. “It shouldn’t be alive anymore.”
Mei finally saw the guard’s face as he stepped next to Fat Choi. “With people disappearing, even during the non-rainy season,” the guard whispered, rough voice so low she could barely hear him, “a hanging wouldn’t be good for morale.”
The dendragon around the guard’s neck hissed at Fat Choi.
Fat Choi’s lips puckered, and he waddled back to his shop, grumbling under his breath. His dendragon squawked and clutched his arm.
The guard sighed and briskly lifted Mei’s rag of a shirt. The kusarigama chains clanked as he went to stand behind her. The morning sun felt oddly comforting on her bare back, and Mei focused on the tiny grooves in the wooden pole in front of her.
So this is it. Mei closed her eyes as the first strike hit her slight frame. The chains weren’t sharp, but the bruising blows made her gasp. Red sparks entered her vision with each thud of the chain. She spasmed with each hit. Her knees gave out and hit the dirt, but her hands stayed firmly above her head. The cool wood scraped her face as she leaned against the pole. Time didn’t pass in this moment, with her back exposed, the crowd chattering, and the chain thudding. Her father would be ashamed if he found out she’d tried to steal.
The chains broke the sink on her back and warm blood leaked out of the wounds. Blackness approached, and Mei hoped she would pass out so as not to feel the rest of the punishment. Then there was no more. It was over. Mei didn’t move. Even the warm breeze hurt, so she remained perfectly still.
&nbs p; “Let this be a warning to all thieves,” the guard said to the crowd. “This eta thinks that food is free.”
Mei heard him walk over to Fat Choi and whisper, “Leave her up all day, then cut her loose. I won’t be around to see what happens.”
A low laugh came from Fat Choi. “Thank you, sir, for your service to our city.”
He’s going to kill me. Mei couldn’t stand, and her arms had lost blood flow from staying firmly above her. The day was still young, but she needed to leave before dark. She took slow breaths to clear the overwhelming pain clouding her thoughts. She took her time turning toward the crowded market. Each inch required effort, but the pain reminded her that she was still alive. This wouldn’t be over until she breathed her last breath. Her father needed her, and if she could move, she could escape.
Sandaled feet passed by Mei while the crowd dispersed to continue their morning market shopping. They haggled over the prices of dragon fruit in square wooden stalls while light green dendragons chittered over them. The smell of fire-roasted beef mixed with the scent of fish, and her stomach cried in hunger. Most people did not even try to skirt around her, but nudged her on their way by. As an eta, Mei was less than human, a beggar without an occupation or a dragon.
Mei tilted her head up and tried to catch a passerby’s gaze. Most were feu men and women, but still they paid no mind to an eta. If another eta was near, they would steer clear of her. People loved to lump together punishments. It didn’t even matter if the eta was guilty. Even though eta looked out for each other, it wouldn’t be wise to save her. Eta had learned long ago to accept defeat.
One man approached Fat Choi’s shop, and she caught his eye. He glanced down at her, and his narrow face darkened. He lifted his puce-brown yukata away from Mei. The flowing robes hung off his thin frame, and a clashing purple obi around his waist completed the horrid ensemble.
“Choi, if you leave this here, it will hurt your business.” The man kicked a pebble at Mei. When she didn’t flinch, he backed away.
Fat Choi chuckled. “If I don’t, more will think I’m an easy target.” His dendragon squawked. “This beauty was the first to see the snipe steal from me.”
Fat Choi stroked the dendragon’s yellow scales. It was no bigger than a cat. The way the sun hit its scales made the little beauty glow. Even though he had helped catch her, it didn’t take away from the finery of the dendragon. The dendragon took a short flight away from Fat Choi to its perch and manipulated the flames roasting the customer’s fish.
“It’s a shame they even let the eta out of their district,” the customer grumbled. “It just makes them think they deserve things.”
Fat Choi handed the man his cooked fish wrapped in wax cloth. “Maybe Emperor Xion will see to it. More and more are stealing. With the rains coming again, Jion-sho has enough to worry about, and the Emperor can take care of snipes like this.”
The customer took a large bite out of the fish, and oil dripped down his chin onto his cheap robes. “The Emperor and the Sho are at odds these days. I heard rumors that the Sho disappears for days at a time. So maybe the eta can be taken care of by the people.” He looked down at Mei. “It would be easier for us to just burn them out.”
Mei clenched her jaw. “You—”
Fat Choi smacked her face with a long pole. “Don’t speak.”
The customer started to leave, and Mei quietly slid her foot out, tripping him. After he righted himself, he kicked her in the leg and walked away.
No one would help her but herself. Her tied hands faced Fat Choi, and Mei tried to find the knot with her right hand. The leather strap had stretched since this morning, but not enough to allow her fingers to work properly. She stood to lessen the pressure, and her back throbbed with each movement.
It felt like it had taken hours to get her feet in place. The sun, now high in the sky, beat down on her wounded body. The blood mixed with the salty sting of sweat on her back, and now her thin shirt clung to the wounds. The heat made her thirsty, and the smell of cooking fish left her light-headed with hunger. Fat Choi whistled merrily in the back, oblivious to her pain.
Is Father worried? She usually came home after a day of scavenging, so he wouldn’t be concerned until nightfall. He’ll never know what happened to me. No one would tell him since no one knew who she was. Dead eta usually ended up in a random hole in the ground.
Mei clenched her jaw and leaned against the pole, gasping for air. Her eyes closed as she caught her breath, and when she slowly opened them, she discovered a face mere inches away.
Startled, Mei recoiled, but the young man didn’t move. He studied her, his face showing no expression. From the looks of him, he was part of the daim class. His short light brown hair was clean, and his yukata was airy, likely silk, reminding her of flowers blowing in the breeze. The bright blue fabric mixed with golden thread complemented his tawny brown skin. Most daim never got as tan as other classes. They spent their days indoors, not in the scorching sun. His wide eyes flicked to her back, and his mouth twitched. An air of importance rested around him, like most daim. She didn’t sense cruelty in his posture, but that meant nothing. Daim could kill with a word, and no one would stop them.
He faced Fat Choi, who’d come out of the back.
“What crime was committed?” he spoke with a commanding tone for someone so young. The young man folded his hands into the wide sleeves of his yukata.
Fat Choi bowed his head. “It stole a fish.”
“How much?”
“Um… Daim-san…” Fat Choi searched for a name while nervously tapping his fingers on the counter, his fat jowls wobbling.
“Chin,” the young man answered.
“Chin-san, it was fifty silver.”
“For one fish?” Chin asked, then pressed his lips into a fine line. He never sneered at the man, but his calmness scared Mei more than if he had shown anger.
Choi fumbled for an explanation. “It also took me away from my shop to catch it.”
Chin glanced between Mei and Choi, then took out a round cloth purse. “I will pay for the fish and excessive time lost.”
Mei’s eyes widened, and Fat Choi shook his hands and bowed profusely.
“Chin-san, I can’t take your money.”
Chin’s expression hardened, turning him into an angry daim statue in the middle of the dirt road and drawing other shoppers’ attention. “Why not? Is my money not good here?”
“It must learn a lesson, honorable Chin-san, and it will not learn if you let it go.”
Chin scanned Mei’s body, taking in the dried blood and her hands, which had turned a deep purple. “I think the lesson has been learned.” He took out five coins and placed them on the counter with a snap. “Release her.”
Mei recoiled as Fat Choi roughly unknotted the leather strap. Sharp pain burned through her fingers from the blood rushing back. She flexed her right fingers, enjoying the pain that meant freedom, and cradled her left hand.
Before she could run off, Chin raised his hand. “Give her the fish.”
Fat Choi’s eyes narrowed. “It lost the fish in an alley.”
“So how do you know she took it?”
Fat Choi’s mouth gaped, but no sound came out. He grabbed the smallest fish from the stand.
Chin leaned over the counter but didn’t touch the wood. “This is worth fifty silver?”
They both stood, their stances wide. Mei could tell by the spasms in Fat Choi’s face that he wanted to protest, but Chin was daim. With a single phrase, he could put Fat Choi out of business. Fat Choi plodded over to the largest fish and cleaned it with deft strokes. The scales flew off the body, and one landed next to her feet. It seemed that Fat Choi pictured her as he sliced the fish.
