Author note TL;DR
DID YOU KNOW that the Seirei no Moribito anime is based on just one of a 10-book series? The seventh book in the series is called Travelers of the Blue Road (蒼路の旅人/Aoro no Tabibito) and focuses on the adventures of a 15/16-year-old Chagum, setting up a climactic finale that takes three books to complete. I wanted so badly to be able to read this book that I just got fed up and decided to write an English-language version myself. So, what follows is a version cobbled together from many sources, based on careful research: blogs and book summaries (translated from Japanese), fanart, the book itself (which is illustrated! whut?!), and season 2 of the live-action drama... but it also contains some intentional departures from canon on my part, because (as will be obvious if you look at my AO3 page) my favorite characters are the Imperial Hunters, who are fairly minor in the books. But for the most part, this is as faithful to the real book as I can get. Many thanks to Nahoko Uehashi, who wrote the thing - I don't understand for the life of me why it's not more popular. Please enjoy. And... uh... updates are fueled by feedback, so... maybe comment? It'd sure make me happy. :/
End of note
There was a hush over the Imperial court that morning. Servants scurried between buildings with their heads down; the Star Palace hummed with muted nerves; the Guard, standing silently about the wall, were sweating under their helmets despite the weather was cold. In the Emperor's audience chamber, the generals of the Army, the admirals of the Navy, the Holy Sage, the Mikado, and the Crown Prince had been in conference since a messenger arrived from Sangal around two bells before dawn. Something major was happening. Everyone could sense it, but none of them, not even those in the audience chamber, could compass just how major it would turn out to be.
Inside the Emperor's chamber, things were a bit more heated.
"Your highness, we must send aid at once!" General Sasuraku was saying. "This is no time for caution! If the Talsh see that we shy from a minor confrontation such as this one, what will they think of our nation? Sangal has asked for our help! If we do not respond, even they will think us cowards."
"Your highness, the letter does not ask us to fight their war for them," countered another, older general. "We need only pledge our support to their cause, not our ships and manpower!"
The debate had been raging for hours now. Half of the men present wished to rush into battle at once, taking the entire Yogo navy with them; the other half wanted to stay out of the conflict until more information could be obtained. The Mikado himself had yet to reveal with which side he stood, and the Holy Sage had been conspicuously silent throughout the discussion.
Chagum, too, watched the exchange in silence. He kept thinking of his trip to Sangal a little less than two years earlier. The country had welcomed him - and Shuga, who had accompanied him on the journey - and in return he had managed to thwart a conspiracy against the Sangalese royal family and became close friends with Princess Saruna, the daughter of the Sangalese king. He could still close his eyes and put himself back in the airy, fragrant cool of the guest quarters where he had stayed there: the sound of the endless surf, the warm breeze murmuring through the thatched roof, the smell of roasting fish and ever-blooming flowers. He missed that place. The thought of the pleasant island nation being invaded by the notoriously warlike Talsh Empire chilled his heart. On the other hand, though, the letter the messenger brought had been painfully vague, asking for help and reinforcement but neglecting to mention how great the Talsh forces were in number or armaments, how far the enemy had penetrated into Sangalese territory, and so on. The language used had been strange as well - almost as if the letter were scripted. Chagum's instincts told him something wasn't right. But he dared not bring up his misgivings aloud. He had no proof, and even if he did, his father would simply dismiss whatever he had to say as childish and irrelevant, just like he did whenever the boy tried to speak up, whether the matter be simple or serious. Though as crown prince Chagum now attended many political audiences like this one, the boy had learned to sit still and keep quiet, because whatever contribution he tried to make would be ignored at best and quashed at worst. The emperor had no interest in what his son had to say.
The fact was, Chagum and his father no longer got along on any level, personal or professional. Ever since he had been returned to the palace after the birth of the water spirit, Chagum had felt a distance between him and his father that had not been there before - as if a wall had been erected between man and child that could neither be seen nor crossed. Time had only made the problem worse. His father's attitude seemed to have gradually morphed from uncertainty to resentment to open hostility. The boy longed for that happy, dreamlike time he had spent with Balsa and Tanda as a commoner, even as the memories of that time blurred and the palace folk did everything within their power to discredit the spearwielder and the herbalist, to excise them from his heart. Shuga's worry, his mother's wariness, his father's disdain, all served merely to increase Chagum's defiance. Letters from Tanda still appeared at his writing desk as if by magic, though intermittently. Shuga, too, was still meeting with Mistress Torogai whenever he could get away from court for a few hours, and he passed along verbal messages between the prince and his pseudo-family on the outside. It was agony to know that Shuga could go wherever he pleased, but Chagum himself could never leave the palace without permission from the Mikado and an entourage of fifty servants, guards, and standard-bearers along for the trip.
Again he thought of Sangal, where he had gone swimming in the warm white-sand lagoon and looked for shells with Saruna. Sangal didn't put the same restrictions on its royalty that New Yogo did. Briefly the boy let himself fall into a daydream where he had been born a prince of Sangal instead, and what that would be like. The fantasy was such a pleasant one that Chagum didn't notice that the meeting was wrapping up until his father's voice pulled him back to reality.
"-Admiral Tosa. We grant thee the blessing of heaven. Bring victory to our fleet."
Chagum started, wondering with sinking heart what he had missed. Admiral Tosa was his maternal grandfather, a well-respected veteran whom Chagum thought fondly of, though they had never been able to spend much time together. The boy gathered that the fleet was being dispatched to Sangal's aid, after all, and that Tosa was to lead it. His father rose and retreated from the audience chamber without so much as a glance at his son, and thus the advisors were dismissed.
"Grandfather," said Chagum, catching up to Tosa before the old man could leave the chamber.
"Your highness," said Tosa warmly, his smile making the word mean something different and more personal, "you mustn't worry for this old sea-captain. Tell your dear mother that I'll be home safely in a few months, and that she ought to set her heart at ease over me. I know how she frets every time I'm off at sea."
"Grandfather..." Chagum lowered his voice. "Aren't you bothered by this whole situation? You don't know what you're sailing into. It could be a trap!"
Admiral Tosa set a kindly hand on the boy's shoulder. "No trap is big enough to catch the Yogoan Navy. We'll have no trouble helping your Sangalese friends."
"The entire navy?" murmured Chagum. "Father is sending the entire navy with you?"
"Yes, your highness," Tosa chuckled. "You missed that part of the meeting, I suppose?"
The prince didn't have to answer; his expression gave him away. He was startled at the brashness of this move. What if something went wrong? If New Yogo were to lose its fleet, its coast would be totally unprotected. But Chagum knew better than to say as much, even to his grandfather. He was only fifteen and knew of military matters only what he had read in history books. It was not his place to criticize or second-guess the strategies of older, wiser men. Instead he managed a little smile and said, "Good luck, grandfather. I am sure Mother and I will see you soon."