Tu Shanshu

[What can be seen of his face beneath the shadow of his hood is his mouth and the dim impressions of his nose and eyes. One hand remains planted on a surface off-screen, and the other clutches at the cloak he wears, securing it just below his chin. Far from threatening, he looks scared, ready to bolt at any moment. Awkward. Distrustful.

He's soft-spoken, contributing to the overall aura of fear that he gives off.]

My father told me I should stay home. He said he dreamed I met the Corsi on my Migration, and worried that I wouldn't come home again. They aren't real, the Corsi; they're great, deformed creatures with black feathers and burning red eyes. They're the monsters in the shadows who eat small children and tempt men and women to spiritual corruption and mortal peril. Humans call them 'Devils'. Bogeymen.

Hau - his name. He has always had strange dreams, and no one really pays them much mind. He once dreamed the sky was falling, like the story of Chicken Little. You know that story? It's a parable for us. The lesson depends on the listener: know what you're talking about, or, alternatively, don't listen to the advice of madmen.

[The speaker motions skyward with his free hand, indicating - well. The sky falling. It becomes a dismissive gesture, the hand flapping in a soft, fluid motion before falling back to its resting place.]

Anyhow, he's an old man and he's growing feeble, and I remember thinking he just wanted his youngest son to stay with him. That isn't a bad thing, to want your family to care for you. To miss them. And I would have: I would care for my father when he grows sick, and I'll miss him when he dies. He knows that is what is in my heart. But he's much too old to entertain fears of Bogeymen.

I'm sure he thought it was a terrible omen, to dream of them while his youngest child prepares to leave with no destination in mind. I shouldn't have fought so bitterly with him. It's hard to fight new fears, to console against the unimaginable.

[After a long pause, he tries to continue with some humor in his voice, but he clearly can't manage to summon it up.]

Maybe if my father had told me he dreamed about the taste of beer, I would have stayed home. Maybe if he told me I would be required to wear this - [He extricates his Soul Gem, in its silver-winged setting, from beneath his cloak to display it to the camera.] - I would have gone to the Kai instead.

Maybe I would not have ended up here.

[And quieter now, he adds with a note of bitter regret:]

I wish I had listened.