Hey, I come bearing another KakaIru story! I'm really excited about this one. This story will be darker than all my others. It's set in a sort of medieval time period.
This story has been in my head for the last year or so, but I needed to smooth out the nitty-gritty bits –it's going to be a long story– more before this even saw the light of day. I think I spent an entire month just working on the plot basis, and then some to work out the cultures that will appear in the story.
I won't be using 'Konoha', 'Suna' or any other village names for locations in this story; so, most of the location names are made up. I will use things like Amaterasu for like a sword name… or something, but that will all come at a later stage.
Warnings: This is a shonen-ai/MalexMale story, there will be future violence, alcohol abuse, racial prejudice, and of course, the eventual lemon. I suppose I will have to put a warning for the language, since I've been taught the British manner of spelling, so no head bashing about that please. This is also unbeta'ed, so I apologise for errors.
Disclaimer: Well, I have some of the DVD's, manga, a poster – wait, you mean legally? Nah, I just like putting characters through things that Kishimoto would never do. I do, however own the plot and location names of this story. So, I ask you kindly, please don't steal. I have a lizard, Caradoc, and I trained him how to spit fire balls at people! I am not afraid to use him.
I hope you all enjoy the prologue: WhatwillCome
To know one's self, is to know of that before you and what will come from the present you create.
- From the Book of Zru.
The throne room was filled with nobles. It was the annual Meet. The great room was filled with an almost choking atmosphere of greed. Lords, barons, viscounts, and dukes; the entire lot of them scattered over the great stone floor, a red runner the width of two men running from the gold laden wooden double doors through the room and up the stair, kissing the feet of the king. A magnificent stained glass window sat above the king, the sunlight dancing on the crimson sun - the crimson sun of Rivima. The high ceiling gave clear to a glass plane, sunlight streaming through and casting a rectangular prism of light down over the nobles.
An elf sat perched on the rail of a shadowed balcony, over looking the throne room. Iruka was shrouded from view. He sat with his back to the smooth, cool stone wall, one leg hanging over the rail, while the other was bent and his foot flat on the surface of the thick stone rail. He had his right elbow resting on his knee, his hand cupped his chin as he watched with indifference as the humans bickered over and breed stock.
Iruka watched the tiny dust motes float in the air around the nobles. He glimpsed over their fine clothes, men wearing shirts with high collars and puffed sleeves, with rich velvet jackets over, their trousers spotless and fitted, and their boots shined and lined with gold or silver. A few women stood amongst them, their corsets tight and rounding their cleavage, the train of the dress was layered with heavy materials of a multitude of colours and their delicate hands covered with the finest cotton gloves money could buy.
Iruka turned his attention to the king. That was the man he served. King Minato was a just man, the near embodiment of the royal family crest; a live blazing sun in the midst of chaos. Minato sat upon his marble throne, his complex of white and burgundy robes flooding around him. The gold of his crown was nearly out shadowed by the man's own golden hair that fell to the sides of his face in spikes. He wore only the bare essentials when it came to jewellery, his golden Royal House signet ring on his finger, and the Amulet of Fire around his neck. It was a lozenge cut ruby of the deepest red and the size of a man's palm, the points of the precious stone tipped with gold to keep it to the gold rim that ran along its sides.
A fight had broken out amongst the nobles, and Iruka was ready to jump down from the cool shadow, but he saw the barest movement in Minato's fingers that motioned over in his direction, which told Iruka to hold his ground.
Guards came rushing from their posts along the wall and pulled the two red-faced nobles apart. Iruka leaned back against the wall once more. He neither heard nor saw further than the curtain of shadow he sat within. His umber eyes traced the light folds on his white pantaloons, setting on the golden bracers above his ankles. He wore plain leather open strapped sandals on his feet. Golden circlets fashioned to the likeliness of an eel twined around his biceps. Iruka wore little in the way of clothing. It was not in the culture of his people to be laden with fabrics or jewels.
No, the sea elves had little need for such lavishness. They wore clothes woven from a material lighter than cotton, the men never wearing more than pantaloons. But the woman liked to wear more than that, dying their sashes in vibrant colours obtained from the sea snails. Jewels though, that was another matter indeed, but Iruka observed that they never went as far as the humans did, not by a long ways.
It was impractical to wear things that could weigh one down under the water, though his people were not in the oceans as they had once been. Not since the City fell. Now, only the hunter-gathers and warriors were in the water at length.
Iruka traced the lining of his gills on the side of his neck, just below his ear. His eyes followed that pattern of blue scales that sat on his forearm. Fins protruded from his arms, three bones sprouting out, all connected by a tough blue-ish membrane, each scale-covered bone ending in a small talon. He had another set of fins on the sides of his legs, coming out by his femur bone, those fins also blue, but larger. It was the one thing that they could not magically manipulate.
Contrary to popular belief, the circlets and anklets he wore were not for mere decoration. They were magical items used to suppress the natural webbing that the sea elves had on their hands and feet. The spell was deactivated on contact with water, but then afterwards to up to two hours to reactivate after leaving the water.
Iruka was pulled from his musing by the sound of the king's voice.
'Enough.' Minato said his voice firm and filled with authority.
The nobles opened their mouths, only to shut them once more. Iruka smiled to himself. They always looked like fish when they did that. He turned his head to look down at Minato who had risen from his throne and looked sternly at his audience.
'The only solution to this squabble is that you each employ an additional herder to keep wait on the hill and warn of any other stock within the area. That way, no sheep, or cattle will be confused. This meeting is adjourned.' The king wove his hand dismissively to the door.
The noble slowly made their way out of the throne room, and Minato fell back into his throne with a heavy sigh. He craned his neck to look up to the elf he knew was perched on the balcony.
'You never have to deal with these problems back in your village, do you?' the King asked with a smile.
Iruka swiftly jumped down and made his way beside the man. 'No, but then again, my people do not heard with cattle, m'Lord,' he said with a swift dip of his head and shoulders.
In truth, Iruka did not have to deal with any of the problem Minato had. He was the Ashalun, the leader of the Sea Clan. He had been appointed eight year prior, after the previous Ashalun had passed away from old age. He was the youngest to ever rise from Togell to Ashalun, but he had just as much experience as those before.
'Well, then I envy you, my friend.'
'King Minato,' a voice called from the door. Nagato, the palace steward made his way along the red runner towards his king, with his shoulders square and his steps sturdy. 'There is an urgent matter that needs your attention, my King.'
Minato sighed and rose from his throne. 'You are dismissed until further notice, Iruka. I doubt I need much protection whilst I sit behind a desk, with Nagato looming over me.'
The steward had not smiled like he normally did at the mention of being able to set the mighty king to do paperwork. Nagato's expression was blank. His silver piercings caught the sunlight and Iruka thought he would be blinded from looking at them too long.
'Thank you, m'Lord,' Iruka bowed and left from one of the side doors, passing servants scurrying along to finish their errands to be in time to dinner.
He noticed that some of them were carrying things that were usually only brought out for the festivals. He thought over it for a moment. It could not be the arrival of some lord, for they were all present at the Meet. The Beltane was just more than a week away, but not close enough to be preparing for it.
Iruka had only arrived back at the court some few hours prior. He still needed to catch up on everything that had happened in his absence. Iruka passed the kitchens and made his way up the southern tower that had once served as an outlook post from the palace. In recent decades however, the city had expanded and buildings rose to greater heights and the tower had lost its usefulness when it could only see the mountains the rolled up behind the city and no longer the valley itself. It had become his room. It was out of the way and no one sought to bother Iruka here.
He walked up the spiralling staircase, glancing out the arrow-slit windows as he passed by. Iruka reached the landing and looked up at the top of the doorframe. There, painted in thick black ink was the symbol of his Clan. A slanted triangle that then branched out at all three points in long slightly curved tails and, ended in a spiral.
Iruka opened the door and was happy to find that his belongings had gone untouched. Even if everything had a light layer of dust, it was better than having his things ransacked. His first task was getting the wooden panel off the window to let a cool, salt scented breeze drift in. Iruka spent most of the early afternoon cleaning.
It was a simple room, with only two windows cut into the middle wall and a fireplace on the right wall. In the ways of furniture, Iruka had a bed by the left wall, along with a wash basin and pitcher for water. A chest with rolling waves carved onto it stood at the foot of his bed; it held all his clothes and shoes. There was a desk in between the space of the two windows, and bookshelves lining the rest of the wall beside the windows. Most of the books contained histories, legends and other things that had been documented by his people. Though the history books were in complete and in a sullen state.
When Iruka had taken up the position of Ashalun, he had set out the task of trying to write a complete history of his people, but even after nearly a decade, he was still far from completing his task.
A knock came from the door and Iruka called the person in. They quietly let themselves in and closed the door behind them. Iruka turned from desk to see a young, blonde, blue-eyed man smiling at him.
'Deidara,' Iruka said with delight and spread his arms to give the younger a brief hug. He put a strong hand on his slender shoulder. 'How have you been, my friend?'
'I have seen better days, but nothing to whine about, yet,' he said with a sad smile.
It was then that Iruka saw Deidara's state of appearance. His once tawny skin had paled, his sapphire eyes not holding the spark they did, and his clothes hanging too much from his shoulders.
Deidara wore an outer coat dyed a light turquoise on his sleeves and up to his chest, then stitched to a tan, coarse material than fell down to flutter at his calves. What seemed like a cluster of black feathers was apparently sown onto his shoulders, giving him a bit of a wild look. Three circlets ran along the front of his coat, a stings from both side of the coat tied to them to keep the coat partially closed. He wore a tunic under it that reached his thighs, and had a pair of black trousers. Two belts were stung about his waist, both heavy with pouches for vials, herbs, poultices and trinkets. An amulet hung from his belt on a rich, azure cotton sash. It was carved from wood and fashioned a curves that ended in a dragon's head.
Not many knew where it had come from, but Iruka knew, for he was the one to give it to him on someone else's behalf. 'You need to eat more,' Iruka reprimanded the blonde, but then in a gentler tone added. 'You have been working yourself too hard. What use could your father have for you if you are no more than the dead walking?'
Deidara scoffed, stepping away from the other and went to the empty fireplace, looking on the shelf on top of that that was lined with trinkets that were outlandish to him. He picked up a large, white shell and turned it gently in his hands.
'What use am I to him? As a mage, I am a disgrace to him and the kingdom,' Deidara said sullenly.
Iruka watched the saddened blue eyes as they traced the contours of the shell. 'You know that as your father loves you.'
'Yes, I know. But… it just feels like I can't do anything other than twitch my fingers and have fire roaring from them. And that helps little in a time of peace. My studies have been of no merit either.'
'You mean your alchemy exploits?' Iruka asked, thinking that that was the reason Deidara was so down.
'Yeah, sometimes the solution explodes when it come in contact with too much salamander enzyme, and when too little is added, it does not even explode when thrown at another object.'
'You'll get it right, you always do in the end,' Iruka said reassuringly. He paused for a moment before asking, 'What has all the servants in such a gust? I wanted to venture into the kitchens to get a morsel and drink, but the blast of Konan's voice made me think I would survive longer without out tempting her wrath.'
Deidara laughed, and looked his age again. 'She hates it when a large order comes in from the blue and she sets her kitchen in a hard pace to make sure the feast is made, and made well. But, to answer your question, no, I haven't been outside my room for the last several days.'
Iruka sighed and decided to dwell on the topic no longer. 'Well, how are things going with your apprentice? Tobi wasn't it?'
Deidara let out an exaggerated sigh. 'He's like a child! But… he is making good progress. Tobi just drives me up the wall the way he believes anything I say or follows me around like some court fool.'
'You know, he sounds a little like you when you first started out as Sasori's apprentice. Remember how you used to follow him around and I swear by, Zru, that if that man told you the sky was green you would have believed it.'
Deidara blushed and struggled to find a witty comeback. 'Hmph. I'll just leave before you start telling me embarrassing things from when I was a toddler.' Deidara smiled and left Iruka to his own.
Iruka felt better that he was able to make the younger man smile. He had seen Deidara grow up after all. He walked back over to his desk and pulled put a clean sheaf of paper and uncorked a bottle of black ink. Iruka sidestepped to one of his bookshelves and pulled out an armful of scrolls that had started to crumble and crack along their edges.
He read each of them and put them in order of date, though it was speculation on his part. There were no dates or names of the scholar that had written it anywhere. It was a tedious task, but after each session, Iruka felt he knew a little bit more about his people's past than he did before. He had had to start over many times, and today would not be his last. Iruka dipped the tip of his quill into the ink and tapped it against the rim so that it would not run onto the page. When he started to write, the words seemed to just flow from him into the page.
Iruka wrote until the sun had started to cast a red veil on the horizon. He put the quill aside and stared out the window. He wondered what tomorrow may bring. The future was such a fickle thing. The sea elves had eked out a living after the Red Sea War. Iruka had to play with human politics to insure his people's safety, but even that was no guarantee.
He did not like uncertainties, but the 'tomorrow' was always one. Iruka always wondered if he was a lesser, for not being able to know to have an idea of what will come. But, there were so many things he needed to focus on; his trade with Rivima, training a new Togell to take over from him when he passed over. And maybe even love, if he was ever able to make the time to find a partner.
But, the gods worked in many ways and were the only ones that could know of what will come.
Well, that's the prologue done. It wasn't too bad, was it? I know it was a bit on the short side, but it's only a trail run to see if any of you would be interested enough for me to continue.
Oh, that bit at the top is an entry from either Iruka's history tome or his journal. They will be at the beginning of each chapter, even if Iruka isn't in it. It will give a bit more background info on the elves.
So the next chapter will be out soon. I just have to finish my visual art end-of-term project first though.
Reviews will be greatly appreciated.
See ya later.