Krissy: I feel the need to send out a quick blurb and remind everyone that there is no focus of romance in this fiction. You could possibly pair characters together if you really wanted, but I do not intend to focus on such things. At least, not in the traditional way we perceive interpersonal relationships as a whole.
I've recently upgraded my PC to windows 10, and as such, some of my writing documents fell into the abyss of corruption. Chapters 3, 4, and 5, were unrecoverable. That being said, I fully expect to have that little matter sorted out posthaste, and my next projected update reflects that. I want to give myself some wiggle room to properly deal with the matter at hand.
In the meantime, welcome to chapter two. I hope you enjoy. Next available update: August 15th, 2015.
Fratricide: The Memoir, Part 1
Average days went by, but, my mind was so far away from my tasks.
I ran the usual lengthy procedures. They were not difficult. If anything, they were rather mundane. It may in fact be callous of me to say such things. In my free time, I spent hours poring over my father's old tomes. There weren't exactly clues, but, there was one thing that interested me. An old leather book, splattered in what looked to be blood. I flitted through the contents.
Most of the pages were just the tittering-on of a young princess, and I wasn't particularly interested in that. There was one passage, though, that granted me curiosity.
It reads as so;
It is not within blood that sovereignty is found. Only loyalty may sow the seeds of a such a thing. Only faith can maintain such iron-fisted ideology. I am none of these things. Duty and desire are at war, and I do not intend to fight. I cannot fight it, I cannot be so weak. To do so, would disavow my own merits as the eldest Himemiya. To hold her close would be to crush my love of her. In spite of knowing this, I wonder yet still, if that is the only way to save her.
The only way, to keep at bay the blisters of the hellfire priestess.
It was so different from the other written passages.
I found the chronicle disturbing to say the least. Putting the matter aside one more, I tried to force myself into daily life.
I examined the women that were sent to me by the local bordello. They'd talk, and I'd listen. I'd always tried to be kind and considerate. Putting on a smile was something expected. After all, women are fragile. A smile can be the difference between help and hindrance. Many of them come to me for birthwort, a compound used to ward away the possibility of childbirth. Others spoke to me concerning ailments of a far different matter.
Diseases of the flesh that were only transmitted by desire alone. Though it was my job to tend to these aliments, among many others, I found myself unable to satisfy the usual concerns. I was too distracted, too preoccupied to be of any real help.
I could not focus. The dead woman, she would not leave my memory.
The only thing I could think of, was her body lying there upon my table. Such a visceral sight had attached itself to my every waking concern. It haunted me in the depth of my sleep. Every night, a cold sweat drenched me. Too many times, I woke with my belly burbling. I could nearly smell the rotting innards once more, even though the woman was long gone. No trace of her left.
I wanted to do something, but, there were limits to my capabilities. I was little more than a mere Herbalist. I hadn't the slightest idea what I could do on my own. In an attempt to make sense of the abnormality I'd witnessed, I sent correspondence all over the land. I finally received an answer from a well-respected medicine woman, one Yukino Kikukawa.
She invited me to her abode, several kilometers northwest of my outward little hut.
Her mother and my father were held as the two authorities in the region for their expertise. It was merely that my father lacked prejudice, and as such, acted as that of a madman. While it was true that Yukino was no certified doctor, she was perhaps one of the best the town had to offer. As females, we were ignored by the tradesmen that sought higher education. However, our families were more than enough to credit our abilities.
I accepted her invitation without a second thought.
It was there at her home, that I realized whatever I had stumbled upon, was no mere illusion of the eye. Around the table were two others, clearly not medically inclined individuals by far. In the dank cellar, they seemed to be even more dangerous. One was easily more precarious than the other, but I could easily tell, neither woman, nor Yukino herself, were truly ready to discuss the matter at hand.
"Good of you to come on short notice, Shizuru. Given the circumstance, the nature of your letter was quite unsettling," Yukino said slowly. It was at that very moment that she pressed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "However, it was not the first report I've had on the subject. I predict it will be far from the last."
A small, uneasy smirk later, and the woman with long dark hair spoke. "I'd say that's a fair prediction."
"You'd say more," the redheaded woman interjected, "were your wits not left behind along with your excrement."
"Oh, and I suppose running sidelong into a nearby tree is the epitome of bravery."
I watched the exchange with an upraise brow, unsure what to make of it. The women were clearly exhausted and had seen their fair share of struggle. If it were me, I'd brew some chamomile and send them to the nearest inn for rest. The tension was thick, and I dared not make it worse. I knew by the dagger-like gaze of forest, and the glint of emerald, that I was in no position to offer them reprieve. I'd have to push my worries of their condition to the side.
Instead of addressing the two weathered visitors, I instead landed my gaze upon Yukino herself. "You share my concerns," I assumed quickly. "My experience was no mere coincidence then?"
"Coincidence, maybe," Yukino murmured. "Normalcy on the other hand…"
A shrug punctuated her statement, and I nodded. I could understand her tribulation well. "Indeed, it seems rather odd, doesn't it?"
It was then that gem-like eyes met mine. Leering at me from across the table, the long haired woman was not amused with my assessment. "We have all read your letter, that's the nature of our respite here. Yukino was kind enough to share it with us, and we were interested in meeting. My friends and I are not unlike yourself, we've come across similar experiences."
A dark chuckle fall from between sneering lips. "If that's all you have to say about it, Natsuki, you truly are a coward," leaning forward then, her knife pierced the table. "Juliet died because of you."
Emerald eyes closed, dismayed by the memory. Lifting a grog to her lips, she paused, setting it back down. "Juliet died because I can't shoot ghosts with bullets."
Was it pain, or hatred? I could not decipher what lingered between the two of them. Before I could make the inquiry however, a groan came from the far side of the room. Soon after, a woman sat upright, her head covered in bandages. "I already have a headache, don't make it worse by bickering."
"Ah, perfect timing," Yukino said as she went to aid the battered woman. "I believe introductions are in order. This woman you see here, she is a survivor."
"We all are," said the woman of blood red hair.
"Lucky to be out alive," the woman with midnight, agreed.
"By the napes of our necks, we are. I'd hardly call that luck," the final woman said. She was rather well-endowed, strawberry-blonde tresses peaking from under the scraps of cloth. Linens covered her body, but it was the smell that bothered me. There was a reek I could not place, but, it was by no means something I was a stranger to. "This isn't over. They hunt for sport, whoever they are."
Ill flesh, perhaps, one that had been cindered by great heat...yes, surely that was the scent my nose kept catching. "Whoever indeed...ghosts perhaps," I said then, feeling as though I was beginning to understand the nature of the beast. "That is what they are, yes?"
A soft clearing of the throat, and we waited for Yukino to collect her thoughts. After a few moments, she inclined her head, rubbing her temple as she spoke. "That would be what experience suggests," Yukino nodded as she turned to the short redhead. "Nao, if you would do the honors?"
The short woman with blood red hair stood up, gathering another lamp from the far corner of the room. She lit it with a match, the sulfur burning my lungs as I inhaled. She looked as that of a killer. The flickering lamp did little to gentle the pierce of her gaze. It was even more frightful as she neared, setting the lamp atop the table. The map that rested there was easier to see.
"As a saboteur, I have seen a great many things in my time. I've committed my fair share of interrogations. Many that were, shall we say, unsightly," frowning deeply, she sat back down at the table.
"Your joy of the Judas Cradle notwithstanding," The bandaged woman muttered, sounding displeasure at the mere thought.
"Or, may god help us, The Pear of Anguish," Natsuki -as she had been called- added disdainfully. A pallor tint reached her cheeks.
"Yes, well racks, water, and whips have their limits, I'm afraid," Nao said unflinchingly. Elbows resting atop the wood, she perched her chin atop her thumbs. "I've spent a great deal of time plundering criminal minds. I can say with absolute certainty; I have never once come across a ghost."
"A priestess ghost, no less," Natsuki added.
"Natsuki, we have no proof that it is a ghost," Nao seemed bothered by even her own admission. "However, what we do know, is that all activity begins here," A limb jutted to the paper upon the table. I took a look at the map, and just where Nao's finger pointed. An abandoned city, long left to the ashes. "If we are to suspect apparitions, a truly impudent assumption in my opinion, but, if we were to do so, we'd find them here."
I studied the location before, but I had never once given thought to it. I swallowed hard. "Black Valley."
"You've heard tell of it, good," deadly verdant eyes lifted to mine. "That makes things easier."
"Truth be told, that should be expected," I said with only sincerity. "I don't know of anyone in my particular profession to be ignorant of it."
"Herbalists must be scholarly by nature," Yukino added in my defense.
"True," Nao affirms with a stiff nod. "Truer still, that many remain blinded by fear. Most would sooner crucify themselves than speak of the place."
It was a test, of that I was sure. A leather clad hand raised, I could see bruising upon Natsuki's fair skin. The action was simple enough to divert my thoughts and halt my tongue. I had not realized that the dark haired woman was also injured. With a careful breath, she spoke. "I think, what my acerbic friend is trying to say; is that many who do know, wouldn't let slip the truth of it."
I nodded, it was no small matter. "Clearly, I'd expect not. It isn't as if we're tittering about a mere house of worship," I knew exactly what the Black Valley was. "What we speak of, is human sacrifice. Young women, gutted, and gifted to the gods."
"To the lords of men too," Nao said quietly.
"Yes, them as well. they hungered for it," I agreed. "I shall tell you all that I know, but I admit, I am no expert on the subject."
My father kept archives on the Black Valley. Texts that I used to read in my spare time. Much of it was little to speak of.
Some several hundreds of years ago, when mankind was still naive, a group of political officials made a particularly strange request – off the record at that. They asked a group of spies to conduct a proper investigation in the north. The region we know to this day as Black Valley. At the time, it was a sparsely populated area, with little to recommend of it. It was a land thought to be inhospitable, and yet, strangely enough, some people journeyed there.
Political figureheads of many countries wanted to know why. It wasn't as if the land had any material value. The waters weren't clean. The land while lush and fruitful, were not without dangers. Surely a few wise people could survive, but no simple peasant. No passerby would willingly choose to stay, not with his family, and never without kin. It was too dangerous.
Even the gods themselves proclaimed it to be so.
While it was true that many claimed traveling to Black Valley was sacrilege, there were many non-believers who pushed the claim aside. There were also others, fanatical worshipers, who believed that the travelers were messiah. People sent to greet the gods, and bring back words from the almighty beings. It was anyone's guess, the truth could have been anything.
Off the spies went, to find the truth. What was discovered, was little more than abhorrent.
Mounds of dead, decaying bodies littered the small huts. Religious scriptures were reported have been set ablaze. Incoherent writing slathered the walls, feces and blood used to paint the words. Beheaded men garbed in cloth lay at the entrance and exits of every outpost…and if all of that were not enough to send the spies running, the discarded bodies of several priestesses were surely enough to do the job.
Sickened by what they encountered, the spies set flame to the evidence. They reported that nothing was amiss to the scribes upon their return. Some of them, those who were loyal to their masters, spoke of things even more sinister. Bodies used as canvases for warnings. Full songs, ones to send away the dead, were carved into the flesh and bone the priestesses. One particularly defiled woman was wrapped in the purest white.
Little more is truly know about the finer details.
It was years after the fact, that the events were brought to the attention of the public. A civil war sent unrest between the northern territories, and the southern ones were not far behind. Riots burst from the streets, and raids pillaged small villages. The fighting grew, and in fits of blind animosity, saboteurs would send entire homes aflame. Dynamiting entire cities into ruin became a beloved tactic. In an attempt to survive, refugees fled to the one place no one would think to look for them.
Black Valley.
Once the civil wars ended, the refuges did not return.
"You know a great deal," Nao said once I'd finished relating what little I knew. "More than I'd expect of a mere herbalist."
"It is time to cut the fat," Natsuki seemingly agreed. "Mai, if you would please."
The woman lifted a hand to her face, peeling back a few of the wrappings to get a better look at me. As I had suspected, her body had been terribly burned. "Nao spends her days as a saboteur, she knows more than the rest of us. Yet, even she doesn't know everything. To be honest, none of us do," her one good eye met mine. The other I could only vaguely see peering at me beneath the cloth. "A priestess floating in the air told me that she going to kill me. I…I have no idea why."
"Mai is not the only one to say that, either," Nao said whilst gritting her teeth. "There's been no few claims, all unrelated, yet all similar…even still, I hesitate to say they are in fact ghosts."
"There have been several sightings," Natsuki proclaimed as she solemnly placed her gun onto the table. "I've been trying to think of a way to end them. Bullets don't do any damage. How could it be anything else?"
"I don't know," Nao hissed. "Regardless, my trade demands logic. Ghosts are not logical. They're a child's nightmare, nothing more."
"Then what, exactly, do you know?" I asked. Directly eying the saboteur with every ounce of scrutiny I could afford.
"One priestess calls fire from her hands alone. Another wields a bow," ticking them off on her fingers, Nao continued. "Two of them carry swords, one the exact opposite of the other," the count was up to four. Further still, she counted. "One cloaked in pure white has been said to use a flute. Some think her to be a bard, not a priestess. Either way, that makes five in total."
"Priestess though she is," Mai said eerily. "I know what I saw Nao."
"I'm not arguing a few women of the cloth decided to lose their bloody minds," came the biting retort. "I'd sooner claim insanity, than claim the rising of the dead."
I felt the same way, vexed by the overall realities. Yet, I could not get the woman's image out of my mind. Her terror, her screams, they must have been real. As real as my retching of fluids that night had been, as real as the cleanup of them the next day. I had to believe that, or, I'd have nothing else to keep faith in. "I am no expert in the mind, not as my father was. However, I do know that this is no mere nightmare."
"Mai's body is proof enough of that," Natsuki agreed. "If not a ghost, then what exactly? It wasn't as if she just skipped into a fire's pit, Nao."
"Stranger things have happened," Nao pointed out. "Deadly things."
"Juliet lost her head! It was lobbed clean off, right in front of you!" Natsuki roared, her rage so sharp, it sent tremors into my own beating heart. I'd never felt such anger wave off another person…at least, no sane person. "No weapon, nothing in sight, and you claim it is not a ghost that did it?!"
"I'd claim a curse over a ghost," Nao kicked Natsuki's chair over in her fury. "The gods gave us a warning, that's all, Natsuki."
"God or ghost, no man alive did this," I say as they begin to cool their tempers. There was, in fact, more to the story. More to what transpired after the refugees fled. "The matter is Euclid, I agree. However it is still a matter none the less."
I relate what little I know of the aftermath. It isn't much, and I can tell Nao already knows what I'm about to say.
It was murmured, among particular circles, that the refuges had been driven to madness. It was said they raided nearby villages of women and children. Others claimed that those women and children were forced away from their homes. Exiled, after being judged as something, or someone, otherwise unsafe. Whatever the reason was, it was abnormal to speak the least.
Many wondered about the true nature of events, and the staggering numbers of outcasts going to Black Valley.
Some say they were condemned, but that didn't hold up logically. There were no recorded trials, and if there were charges placed against them, no scribe had detailed them. Even if there were charges upon an adult woman, rare were the times such a thing would happen to a youth. Stranger still, the lack of captive women carried to jail raised no few questions.
This unfortunately brought the eventual argument that the women were bewitched, or at the very least, out of their deity fearing minds.
Either way one tried to spin it, the lack of evidence was perhaps the most damning bit of it. Rulers in those days, from what the records mention of it, were not opposed to flogging anyone in front of all to see. They were not above torture, nor below anarchy. They were, by and large, ironfisted rulers of the era. The missing women and children concerned even them.
Rightly so, when one understood the implication.
If such punishments were easily doled out, the rulers in question had to have known –and be the root cause- of the disappearances. Many villages and kingdoms in the region suspected high-treason somewhere within the sprawling lands, but even that came up empty. When rulers were accused of using the women as opium induced slaves, more fighting came about.
Opium was addictive, but to use it for slavery was the lowest a person could go.
It was then, that the first sighting of the priestess sent ripples of change. Murmurs traveled amongst only the most influential of people. The person who left the penning on the page was none other than a princess. She too, had suddenly gone missing. Furthermore, her records indicated that something was quite amiss. That although a great travesty had occurred, she had no true explanation for the sights she'd seen.
Yet, what she detailed, was alarmingly close to what the spies had seen in their travels.
Visions of girls, young and old, set aflame while still alive. Lambs to the slaughter, priestess pit against priestess. Battles to the death were common, torture equally so. Even more horrifying yet, were the ones fancied by men before their judgement day. Hungers of the flesh, becoming more than mere desires. Those particular passages speak the worst, ending before their true completion.
It was suggested, although not confirmed, that the princess died whilst writing the final few pages.
I tell the women around the table to great length, and even greater care, that my father was given these passages by a friend of his. That the written proof of these documents are in my own home, well hidden amongst the rest of my father's work. After I finish, the cold room grows even colder, and much more silent.
Finally, it is the gunner who speaks. "Such travesties," she murmurs awed and confused. There was a strange sort of accusation in her gaze, and her tone reflected it. "You do realize, that if the story about the book is to be believed, the princess had to have died in the castle."
Nao had put the pieces together as well. "And walked out as a corpse."
"That was the implication, yes," I said, before another thought came to my mind. I smirked somewhat sadly. "Mai, you have encountered a vision of a priestess too. What was it that you faced? More aptly, what vision did you see?"
Her lips trembled, fear, I was sure of it.
"I do not remember much," she said as she glanced over to Natsuki and Nao. "What I do recall, was fire. It was on everything, and everyone. I couldn't see beyond it, and although I could not feel heat, I could feel the melting of my skin. Perhaps, you should see," when both of her friends nodded, she turned to Yukino. "If you would, please."
Yukino licked her lips, nodding roughly. "This Shizuru, is why I sent you notice. I thought it prudent of you to meet these women."
She unwrapped the cloth bindings gently, removing several layers before Mai's skin came into view. It was torn from her body in chunks, gashes sure to leave scars. They oozed yellow and pink. Pus and blood mixing. Worrying still, was that her whole body was covered with such dressings. I could not comprehend the nature of what exactly I saw.
"Ripped her skin right off," Nao said bitterly with a shake of her head. "Damn near died."
"I felt my skin melting, what else was I to do?" Mai asked, to which none of us had an answer.
"I'd like to see for myself the extent, if I may," I bit my lower lip as Mai nodded. "Bring her to the medical table," I said to Yukino before turning to the other two. "You two, gather fresh water from the well, boil it hard and long, and then once it has cooled enough to touch, bring it us," my interest was nipping at my heals. "Let me see your wounds…Yukino, opium please. Removing the cloth will no doubt be painful."
"Right away." Yukino nodded. The dressings were soon to be needing change anyway, and that was to be an ordeal. After administering the drug of choice, I undressed Mai's bandages slowly, Yukino at my side. The fabric stuck to the healing flesh, dragging painfully upon removal. Moisture seeped from the cuts, patches of skin were so rancid it would take several hours in which to clean and air them dry again.
"These…these are medical," I said pointing to a few very particular, meticulous cuts. "A barber did this?"
"I did," Yukino said as she crossed her arms.
"I thought you more a leech than I barber," I said quietly, awed by her careful work. "I knew your mother had once been given some training under a barber in her youth. However, I hardly assumed she passed that onto you."
"True," Yukino said with a soft laugh. "I'm not exactly what one would call an expert in bloodletting," she indicated a few places where her work was less than acceptable, and then went to gather medicines for the wounds. "I know enough of it to get by. I was careful to observe proper protocol as best as I could."
"Bloodletting, the humor of air, correct?" I was no doctor, merely a woman who knew a great deal of herbal remedies, and a great many ways to employ them. "Was it not fire that scorched her?"
Yukino made a noise that, to me at least, sounded very uncertain. "True the marks are burns, and true the humor for fire is actually yellow bile. One must wonder, was it truly fire that caused such injury. Or, was it merely the vision that inspired the burning?"
"So, you chose air. The humor of blood, to try and bring it into alignment with the others," I found myself interested, very much so. Never once had I fully taken the time to understand the logic behind the practices my father taught me. "She lives, so one can only applaud your skill."
"I would not send such praise. Too soon for it. It may be pure luck," she told me, a twinge of shyness cropping up. She doubted her abilities the same as she always seemed to. "Infection has yet to set in, but, by the looks of these wounds…"
She didn't need to speak it. I understood. I switched gears, forcing away the thought of another dead girl on my hands. "Tell me, do you think my personal experience a fabrication?"
"Well, that's fairly hard to say…"
"Yukino, please. Now is not the time to treat me as a common villager."
"Even if I wanted to give you an answer based on assumption, I would still be unable. Opiates are complicated," pacing for a moment, she turned to me. Handing me a clay jar of ointment she finally nodded. "If it is merely the matter of a hallucination, yes. It is possible."
"Forgive me my friend, you see a little disquieted," I say, as I begin to slather the sticky aloe on the burned woman.
"You claim that a woman pronounced dead vanished from thin air," Yukino protested, her words still soft. "That she might as well have gotten up and walked out of the door."
"Indeed, I did say that," I sighed. "Furthermore, seeing someone in this state...well, I feel that warrants my validation."
"I'd call both events quite strange, wouldn't you?"
I had to agree. "There isn't a question."
Hot, but not scalding water was carried in by the short saboteur. She eyed me, and I returned her gaze. Yukino took to tending to Mai's painful sores, washing them first with hot water, and then dousing them with a tincture made to disinfect. I knew it would take some time, so I followed Nao out from the cellar. Inclined to understand her, we made our way to the yard.
It was filled with flowers much like my own. Many were medicinal, others were to keep the wildlife at bay.
"There was fire," Nao told me suddenly. "I could feel it, smell it, and the stench of searing flesh," looking at me again with that skeptical gaze, a snort followed. "You ever smell a person burning alive? It smells just as it sounds."
I nod, knowing all too well of the stench. "I have helped burn victims in the past. It never has been a pleasant odor."
"It's sick."
"So is a woman without her innards," I find myself reeling on her. "Saboteur, you are too wise. Speak, tell me more."
"I will tell you only one thing. Black Valley wasn't uninhabited. It did prove useful," she replied as she rolled a mix of dried substances inside of a thin piece of paper. "Holy land, mostly."
Crassly put, but yes. They were holy lands, if one could truly call them such. "It is as you say. Not even the gossip mongers would dare speak ill of Black Valley. In spite of every reason not to, you do. Why speak of it at all? Why seek trouble?"
"Those things seek their own victims," Nao replied icily. I can smell lemon's balm in the smoke she breathes. A nervous condition, likely, and I can't say I fault her the remedy. "Now, whatever those things are, they want Mai."
Natsuki, who had been resting among the flowers chose that single moment to perk up. She sent me a glance. It was one of appraisal, lingering over me, as if I too, were some sort of demon. "I happen to be military turned bounty hunter," she says as she puts some sort of medallion away. Why she kept it, I haven't a clue. "Nao is one of the finest arsonists to ever have been born," she stands and walks near, until she's no more than a stone's throw away. "Now you, herbalist, seek to know the truth too."
At that Nao chortles, smoke billowing from her lips. "A rather mottled crew. Hades hath no greater fury than a group such as ourselves. We're begging to flogged to the brink, if I do say so myself."
"That's why we have Mai," Natsuki says with a shake of her head. Then, she eyes me once more. "We're going to the Black Valley once Mai seems fit for travel. We'd like to see for ourselves what rests between here and domination."
"Could use a medic," Nao adds with a grin. "If, that is, you are brave enough to keep the piss from dribbling between your legs."
"I'm by no means a medic," I say with a shake of my head. "I'm hardly a barber, either. Merely a simple herbalist's daughter."
"You know the land, do you not?" Natsuki asks me, her footfalls steady as she paces back and forth. "Say, for example, what this does to a person?"
"Horehound," I was indeed of the skill my father intended for my particular trade. If it was an explanation of the flower in her hands she wanted, it was an explanation she would get. "Primarily used in antidotes to subjugate poisons. Some say it could be used to thwart the spells of witches, if you believe those exist too."
"Don't toy with me. There is more, I see it withheld at the tip of your tongue." Natsuki growled darkly. "I'm responsible for the safety of my kin. Now answer me well, what else does this flower do?"
I sigh at the long haired woman, she isn't daft when it comes to digging out information. Perhaps she'd learned more from Nao than I thought. "Repertory, it could be used to remedy a cough," at that, I pluck the plant from between her fingertips. "I should remind you, it is merely a flower. Until brewed with water it holds no value. I wouldn't advise you to eat it, either."
Natsuki seemed satisfied enough with that answer, and leaned on the side of the wooden door, arms crossed. With a breath, she turned to me. "I've seen war, tasted blood, and marched upon the most forsaken ground you'd come across. I'd walk anywhere…anywhere but Black Valley."
"With an unbloodied woman no less," Nao speaks.
"Unbloodied, but not untainted," Natsuki says to me, having come to a rather personal conclusion. "True, you're no barber surgeon. Yet you peel back the flesh of an ailing woman anyway."
"It was malpractice," I said with a shake of my head. "Positively speaking, she would have died without help."
"Ironically, you could not guarantee her life. You'd sooner become a butcher and fail, than watch her die unaided," Nao grinned darkly, in a way that I found most unsettling. "That takes gull, I like gull."
"There must be more than meets the eye," Natsuki told me as she pulled back the flower, squashing it in her bare hand. "I intend to find out what that is, but I –we- cannot go alone. We need someone who knows how to treat wounds, and care for sickness."
"Black Valley is little more than plagued lands. Even I could help, it would be minimal," I warn her. "I am no conjurer, nor a barber. I'd no sooner be able to extract tooth and bone, than you would be able to boil a balm for burns."
"You're no warrior either," Nao said quietly, that deadly glint in her eyes once more. "We break a limb, we'll lob it off and feed it to the beasts."
Natsuki held up not only her hand, but this time her sword. The tip aimed directly at Nao's neck. With a sigh, she sheathed her blade once more. It was a strange way to communicate, yet the two of them seemed to be masters at it. A language only for them to know, and no one else to find out. Before I could really consider the implication, Natsuki pulled the thick medallion of her pocket once more.
There was an inscription there, but of what, I remained unsure. I couldn't see the words in the sun's low light. After some time, she pocketed the treasure. "You want to go, Shizuru, I'll take you," Natsuki muttered with gritted teeth. "I owe your father that much."
"Why?" I didn't expect an answer, so I was surprised to receive one.
"Shared history, adversity, promises…blood oaths. Ten years of hardship, anyway you look at it. Helping you is the least we could do," Natsuki said in way of explanation. "The princess you speak of, for example, is as good a reason as any. She was none other than the late Chikane Himemiya, murdered one day before her succession of the throne. Passed down from generation to generation, until ten years ago, when the last Himemiya by blood died."
"You have Chikane Himemiya's old records because your father protected them," Nao interjected solemnly. "For that we all owe him our lives."
"I'd like it back," Natsuki said to me. "Consider it payment for Nao's sword, and my gun."
Payment for protection. A saboteur, a bounty hunter, and an injured woman I had no idea what to make of. If I would get answers for my struggles remained unknown. Logic told me that these women risked life and limb for the uncanny. They were indeed a mottled crew, perhaps, but no greater a group would visit me.
Of that, I was sure. I had no choice but to pay, my very instinct demanded it.
…
Krissy: I hope you enjoyed this chapter of Fratricide. However, it is quite late, and I must bid you a goodnight.