The river glinted like crushed silver, curving soft as a lotus petal—just like that drawing on the leaf Yara Yu left. Tan Kai bare heels were raw, scabbed over from stones and thorns, and every step sent a dull ache up his calf. But he didn't slow until he spotted the banyan tree, its roots coiled into the water like giant fingers. Under its branches, Yara Yu sat picking at something: fresh lotus petals, pale pink, spread out on a banana leaf in her lap. Her veil was still pulled tight, but the silver bells on her saree hem tinkled when she shifted, quiet over the river's gurgle.
Tan Kai hung back a little, twisting the frayed edge of his jacket between his fingers. He'd practiced what to ask all afternoon—Why'd you help me? What was Mom really like?—but now his throat felt dry, like he'd swallowed a handful of sand. He cleared his throat, and Yara Yu looked up; her eyes softened, like she'd been waiting but didn't want to admit it, and her fingers stilled on a crumpled lotus petal.
"Took you long enough," she said, but her voice was light, not sharp. She patted the flat stone next to her, and Tan Kai sat, legs stretching out to the water. A wind blew, carrying the cool, sweet smell of lotus from the ponds beyond the reeds—so strong he could almost picture the blooms bobbing in the current. Yara Yu held out a ball of sticky rice wrapped in a lotus leaf, still warm enough that steam curled up to fog the edge of her veil.
"Eat. You look like you haven't had a full meal since… well, ever."
Tan Kai took it, his fingers brushing hers. Her hands were calloused, not soft like he'd imagined—like she'd spent years kneeling in lotus ponds, pulling weeds or picking petals before the sun got too hot. He peeled back the lotus leaf, rubbing the fuzzy surface between his fingers; it still held the river's chill. The rice smelled of coconut and fresh blooms, and he bit into it slow, savoring the sweetness. Aunt Mai had only ever used banana leaves for rice, and for a second, he wondered if Mom had liked it this way—wrapped in lotus, so the grain tasted like the ponds she loved.
Yara Yu watched him, then flicked a lotus petal into the river. It floated off, spinning slow, before getting caught in a ripple. When she spoke again, her voice was lower, like she was sharing a secret she'd carried too long. "I was your mom's friend. Her name was Li Na—she wasn't just a village woman, Tan Kai . She was from the Lotus Clan, the ones who guard the Sacred Lotus's power. I was her apprentice, learning to tend the blooms and feel their light."
Tan Kai stopped chewing. He'd never heard of the Lotus Clan—only "the fairy" from the elders, like she was a story, not a real person who'd woken up early to pick lotus petals or hum to blooms. He set the rice down, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "Did… did she talk about my dad? The elders said he left when I was little."
Yara Yu fingers squeezed a lotus petal until its edges turned brown. "His name is Tan Agus—his Thai name's Somchai. Not a scholar from Bangkok, not like I might've hinted before. He was a weaver from a nearby village, the kind who could weave lotus patterns so real they looked like they'd bloom. Your mom met him by the Mekong one dawn—he was collecting river reeds, and she was picking lotus dew. They fell in love fast… but that's where the trouble started."
Tan Kai leaned in, his chest tight. "What trouble?"
"The Lotus Clan's rules—they're not just rules. They're heavenly laws. Li Na was supposed to marry another Clan member, keep the bloodline pure. But she chose Tan Agus—a mortal. When you were born… the heavens found out. They said she'd 'polluted the Lotus's light' by having a mortal child. That's why she couldn't stay." Yara Yu paused, staring at the river like she was seeing something Tan Kai couldn't. "I told you before the Black Scorpions took her—that was half-truth. They want her, but they can't touch her. Not really."
Tan Kai brow furrowed. "Then where is she?"
"Trapped in the Soul-Binding Pagoda—a tower hidden in the Ironwood Forest, guarded by the Twin Lotus Gods. Not mortals, Tan Kai. Celestials. She's not there because Tong's men caught her—she's there because the heavens punished her for breaking their law. The tower saps her power, keeps her from using the Sacred Lotus's full strength. But Tong… he's not just a gang leader. He's a sorcerer. He uses blood magic to talk to dark spirits, and his men? They're not just thugs. Some know how to brew poison from cursed lotus roots, others can call up fog to trap travelers—real, dark stuff. They've been hanging around the pagoda for years, waiting for a chance to steal Li Na's power while it's weak."
Tan Kai hand flew to the ivory pendant around his neck. It was burning warm, hotter than ever before—like it was trying to confirm Yara Yu words. "But why me? Why did you bring me here?"
"Because you're the key," Yara Yu said, her voice urgent. She pulled a small, worn scroll from her sleeve—not a map, but something covered in tiny lotus symbols. "The Sacred Lotus's power is split in two. Your pendant is one half—it holds the 'light' of the Lotus, passed down from Li Na. The other half is a stone tablet, hidden in Jingxin Temple—the old monastery on the hills outside Chiang Mai. Tan Agus took it there, then he… he became a monk. Took a monk's name, Huiyuan, and tends the temple's lotus garden now—never leaves, never talks about his past, but he's been waiting for you. He said only their child—you—could use the pendant to unlock the tablet's words. To ask the Twin Lotus Gods to lift Li Na's punishment."
Tan Kai eyes widened. He'd thought Tan Agus was dead, just like the elders whispered—gone, never to come back. But he was alive. Hiding in a temple, tending lotus blooms, waiting for him. His throat felt tight, and he had to blink hard to keep tears from spilling. "He's… he's a monk? Why didn't he come find me?"
"Because he couldn't," Yara Yu said, soft now. "If he left the temple, Tong's men would track him—they've been looking for anyone tied to Li Na for years. And the heavens? They'd see it as him 'fleeing his penance' for loving a Lotus Clan member. He stays in the temple to protect the tablet. To protect you."
Tan Kai nodded, swallowing hard. It made sense—all the years he'd felt abandoned, his dad had been guarding the one thing that could save Mom. He gripped the pendant until his knuckles hurt, like he was holding onto a thread that connected him to both parents. "But Tong's men are watching the temple, right? With their magic?"
Yara Yu nodded, grim. "They know the tablet's there—Tong's been sending spies for months, trying to sneak in. But the temple monks aren't just monks—they know old purification spells, enough to burn through Tong's fog and block his poison. The abbot owes Tan Agus a favor—he's been hiding the tablet in the temple's underground shrine, safe from dark magic. And there's a village healer, Mae Noi, who Li Na once saved—she can make potions to shield us from Tong's men's curses. Mortals, but not ordinary ones. They've all been waiting for you to come."
Hope flared in Tan Kai chest—bright, hot, like the sunset painting the river gold. He thought of Mom, trapped in the pagoda but alive. Of Tan Agus, in the temple's lotus garden, waiting. Of Yara Yu, Mae Noi, the monks—all ready to help. For the first time, he didn't feel alone.
"So we go to Jingxin Temple. Find Dad—find Huiyuan. Get the tablet. Then go to the pagoda. Ask the gods to let Mom go."
Yara Yu smiled, a small, tired thing that reached her eyes. "That's the plan. But it won't be easy. The Twin Lotus Gods aren't kind to rule-breakers—they'll test you, Tan Kai. And Tong's magic is getting stronger—he's been sacrificing lotus blooms to his dark spirits, making them angrier. But you've got the pendant. You've got Li Na's light in you. That's more powerful than any dark magic."
She stood, tucking the scroll into Tan Kai hand and folding his fingers over it—the paper was thin, its edges frayed from years of being touched, like Tan Agus had held it a thousand times. "We leave at dusk. The monks will meet us at the temple's back gate—they know to look for the pendant's glow. Are you ready?"
Tan Kai stood too, his bare feet firm on the riverbank. The pendant's warmth spread through his chest, calm and steady, like a heartbeat. He thought of the temple's lotus garden, of his dad's hands tending the blooms, of Mom waiting in the pagoda.
"I'm ready," he said, his voice steady. No more fear. No more running.
Yara Yu nodded, and together they turned west—toward Jingxin Temple, toward Tan Agus, toward the tablet that could free Mom. The wind carried the scent of lotus, the pendant glowed, and for the first time, Tan Kai knew exactly where his parents' stories—and his own—were leading him.