Disclaimer: Same as before.
Notes: Well, I wasn't actually expecting anyone to read this, but hey I'm glad you two did. Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 1Bright blue eyes glittered from the shadows as their owner stood silently beside the half open window. But a moment later they were hidden behind closed eyes and a fringe of honey brown hair as a smile slid into place on the pale face—a smile that was open and cheerful as well as secretive all at once. It was an expression that could be somewhat on the disconcerting side, or so he'd been told many times.
A soft knock on the door drew his attention back from the bleak gray sky outside. Turning towards the door he relaxed slightly as he recognized the aura of the one who had knocked.
"It's not locked, Eiji," he called to the closed door before returning to his quiet survey of the town through his window.
The door popped open the moment he said it could and a slightly taller youth with rather flamboyant red hair came bursting in. He was dressed plainly like any of the other people walking down the street outside, but the cheerful grin on his face was rare as anything in this day and time.
"Fuji! I got it!" he exclaimed excitedly the moment the door clicked back into place behind him, brandishing a rolled up piece of paper so enthusiastically that it wouldn't have surprised his companion to see it rip, "I got it! I got it! And it's complete this time!"
Fuji waited patiently for his friend to finish bubbling. It took a few minutes, but that was counted short for the exuberant redhead.
"Anyway," Eiji continued, handing the parchment to his friend, "the dealer person said that his father gave it to him—and since he looked kinda gray and grizzly I assumed it'd be old enough to be the right time. Can you tell if it's real? If it's not I'm gonna go right back there this instant and give the old man a piece of my mind!"
A thin sliver of blue appeared briefly before the smile widened, "Don't worry, it's real this time. You see this?"
Eiji leaned closer and eyed the small design he had noticed earlier but thought little of. It was a circle with a circle of twelve stars inside surrounding what appeared to be a snowflake and a flame. Turning his head from side to side, he squinted at it some more before straightening and pulling a face.
"What is it, nyah? Looks kinda weird."
"It's a seal," Fuji explained, "it marks the map as having been created by the Sorcerien."
"So I got it right!"
"Yes, you did," Fuji laughed as his friend did a little victory jig, "but that means we have to get going."
"Huh?' pausing for a moment at the sudden seriousness in his companion's tone, Eiji tilted his head to one side, "Is something wrong, nyah? I thought we could rest a few days once we got here!"
"I thought so too," Fuji cast a last glance out the window with open blue eyes that seemed to flash with a brief light, "we're still being followed."
"Oh man," the redhead's shoulders slumped and he pouted, shooting the window a glare, "I thought we lost them, nyah! This isn't fair nyah! What did we ever do wrong?"
"It doesn't matter what we did," Fuji reminded him, pulling the hood of his deep blue cloak over his head, effectively hiding his face, "we are what we are. That's all they need to know."
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
"Wow! So this is the city!" Momoshiro Takeshi gazed around him in awe, bright violet eyes practically sparkling.
His shorter companion rolled his eyes and tugged irritably on his cloak.
"Stop gaping," he snapped, "you look like a idiot. People are staring."
"Aw, come on Ryoma, why can't a just look around? I mean, it's our first time here! Aren't you the least bit interested?"
"No."
"You can't really mean that!"
"Oh yes I can, now move it! We're supposed to meet one of Master Sumire's informants, remember?"
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Jeez! You sure are grouchy today."
The two continued to bicker as they moved down the open city street, trailing stares and whispers all the way.
The city was only a medium sized one, a collection of scattered buildings varying in size from unimaginably short to three or four stories high. Even so though, to two people who had grown up in a secluded little town far up in the mountains, it felt enormous—and extremely crowded.
There were people everywhere-literally. Street side stalls marched up and down every street, their stained and worn wood sagging like tired soldiers as their ragged canopies flapped lifelessly in the wind. People hurried in and out of every building and rushed up and down the streets, none of them looking as though they had the leisure or inclination to take things one step at a time.
Yes, it was indeed large, but the entire thing reeked of oppression…of dejection and those who have long lost the energy to care about anything but surviving.
"There's something wrong here," he murmured to himself, green gold eyes sweeping from one side of the street to the other uneasily.
"Yeah…" Momo agreed, somewhat subdued as the air of the place started to sink in, "I guess home really is better."
Ryoma snorted, turning his head to casually scan each of the passersby. His eyes were immediately caught by a tall youth with messy brown hair standing before one of the stalls. He was wearing a long, black coat, a plain and indistinguishable piece of clothing that anyone could be wearing. But as he turned away from the stall, Ryoma caught a glimpse of sharp, hazel brown eyes that locked momentarily with his own through oval spectacles before their owner strode away down the street.
"Hey! There it is!" Momo exclaimed, and grabbing a hold of his friend's arm he all but dragged the startled sorcerer down the street towards a small house with a green painted door and a brass doorknocker shaped like the head of some bird of prey. They skidded to a halt just outside the front yard, which was overflowing with strange plants that neither had ever even heard of before.
Glaring at the swordsman, Ryoma yanked his arm out of his excited friend's overly strong grip and pushed open the low, wrought iron gate. Navigating their way through the wild vegetation was like trying to walk carefully through thick mud. Path? What path? There was no evidence that any such thing had ever existed in the yard, let alone that it still might be there. Eventually they elected to simply walk straight through and try their best to trample as few plants as possible.
Then again, these rough and bizarre plants looked hardier than most people did.
It took the duo a full ten minutes to battle their way across the tiny front yard to the door where the bird's head knocker leered at them as though it couldn't believe these two humans were so inept.
"Man," Momo complained, pulling thorns from where they had lodged in various undesirable places, "what kind of a person is this? What kind of a GARDEN is this?"
"A sensible one."
He yelped and jumped backwards, nearly knocking Ryoma off of the porch and back into the miniature jungle. The door had opened and there was a tall man with short, spiky hair standing framed in the dark doorway. Thick, square rimmed glasses glinted at them in a far from reassuring way.
Momo gulped and edged as far away from the stranger as he could get without falling off of the porch.
Sighing, Ryoma looked up at the man in the doorway, "Are you the Observer?"
For a long moment the man stood and continued to stare at them, then he turned and gestured that they should follow him. Stepping over the threshold without hesitation, the young sorcerer found himself standing in a dimly lit hall. There was a cry from outside and Momo scrambled in after him just as the door thudded solidly shut.
The sound was very final.
"Please follow me," the man they assumed to be the Observer mentioned by Master Sumire padded silently down the hall, not bothering to check whether or not they had listened to his instructions.
The house was eerily quiet and dark, permeated with cool, slightly moist air. Dark floorboards creaked slightly under their feet, making everything feel darker still. A row of flower pots stood on either side of the hall, their leafy green occupants spilling out onto the floor and forcing those walking past to tread with care.
The hall opened out into a large room—also overflowing with plants—where a circular table stood on a motled green rug. Four, straight-backed chairs stood around this table, awaiting visitors. A large set of glass doors could be seen past these in the opposite wall, letting in the only light in the house and revealing an even wilder garden beyond.
"Please have a seat," the Observer gestured to the chairs before disappearing through a door to their left. They could hear the clinking of kitchenware and the sound of something bubbling.
"Man is this place weird," Momo muttered to himself, examining one of the chairs carefully before sitting down, "what's that anyway?"
Ryoma took the seat to his left and followed his gaze to the large flower bulb sprouting from the round, black pot that sat proudly in the center of the table. It was larger than most flower bulbs he had ever seen—and blue on the outside to boot. Furthermore, it only had two leaves, both of which were long, shriveled looking things that draped over the sides of the pot to lay on the table's dark, polished surface.
"Looks like a plant to me," he declared, resting one elbow on the table and propping his chin in his hand, looking bored.
"Yeah, I know that. But…" leaning forward slightly, Momo poked at the monstrous bulb, "what kind of plant—"
He was cut off abruptly as said plant suddenly opened to reveal rows of gleaming, very sharp looking teeth. With a hiss, it lunged for his hand. With a yelp, Momo trew himself backwards, tripping over his chair and landing in the embrace of a large flowerbed. Crying out again, he scrambled quickly out of the plants in case one of them decided to open up jaws too and stared in horror at the toothy mouth still trying to reach him from the table.
"Behave!"
The Observer had reappeared from the kitchen with a tray in one hand and a long spoon in the other. He whacked the 'flower' on the stem just below the bulb. It whined slightly in disappointment but drew back and closed back into its blue bulb.
Setting the tray on the table, the Observer poured three cups from the silver pitcher he had brought, not seeming to notice the strange looks both sorcerer and warrior were giving him.
"Have a drink," he suggested, placing two of the glasses before his two visitors, "and we can talk."
Momo sat down, eyeing the plant warily, and reached for his glass. Picking it up, he stopped abruptly as he realized that the liquid inside the glass was purple—of all colors—and bubbling gelatinously.
"What is this?" Ryoma asked suspiciously, not touching his cup.
"Just a little something I make myself," the Observer smiled, glasses glinting, "don't worry, it's perfectly safe to drink, and very good for the health as well."
As if to prove his point, he raised his own cup and sipped.
"So," he continued, setting his glass back down, "it's Ryoma Echizen, apprentice to Master Sumire, and Takeshi Momoshiro, is it not?"
Momo blinked in surprise, "How did you know?"
The Observer smirked slightly, "I know a lot of things."
"Well," Ryoma curled his fingers around his cup and tilted his head slightly to one side, "since you know who we are, isn't it only fair to tell us who you are?"
"Ah yes, of course. Sadaharu Inui, otherwise known as the Observer. But surely you already knew that. So tell me, what did Master Sumire Ryuzaki send you here to ask me?"
The sorcerer arched an eyebrow, "I thought you said you knew many things."
Inui just chuckled, "Many but not all."
"Well," Ryoma paused briefly, considering his words carefully, "I'm assuming that—since you know Master Sumire—that you know the Sorcerien?"
"Of course," Inui nodded, "banished when the Seishun Alliance was defeated, assumed to have all been killed in the last battle that signaled the rise of the Empire, but actually in hiding where they continue to train and build their strength."
"Yes. Well, Lady Shiba, our seer, recently discovered several powerful but unknown magical signatures."
"And?'
"That was all Master Sumire told us before sending us and a few other groups to look for them."
"Hmm… So you wish to know if I can tell you where those you seek are."
"Ryoma nodded.
"Then—"
"Argh!"
Momo's shout broke into the conversation and both sorcerer and Observer turned in unison to find him doubled up in his chair, clutching at his throat. His face had taken on a sickly shade of green and his cup of purple potion had tipped over, spilling its bubbling contents over the edge of the table and onto the floor where it was forming a puddle in the rug.
Ryoma blinked, "Momo?"
His friend gasped wordlessly, waving one arm around like a drowning man seeking a lifeline while the other hand continued to clutch at his throat. Then he keeled over to the side and onto the floor in a dead faint.
Inui tapped his chin thoughtfully as Ryoma jumped off of his chair to kneel beside his friend, checking for a heartbeat.
"Oh dear."
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Bleary, dark violet eyes blinked slowly open accompanied by a loud groan.
"What happened?" he asked hoarsely, trying to clear his vision. Why was his throat so dry?
A blurry shape moved into his line of sight, bending down to examine his eyes more carefully.
"You drank some of the Observer's home made juice," was the sour reply spoken in a voice he was all too familiar with, "apparently it didn't agree with you and you passed out."
"That wasn't juice," Momo grumbled, rubbing at his eyes and levering himself strenuously up into a sitting position, "that was poison!"
He appeared to be sitting on a thick, rush mat. The room around him was an unfamiliar one but filled with the same musky, vegetation-ridden atmosphere as the rest of Inui's house.
"If it were, he wouldn't have drank it himself," Ryoma pointed out, "Can you travel?"
"Travel?"
The sorcerer rolled his eyes, "We need to leave as quickly as possible."
"Oh, right," Momo winced, "I think I can travel. I just don't EVER want to see that concoction again."
"Good," Ryoma stood up and turned towards the door, "come on."
They were greeted in the hallway by Inui who escorted them back to the front door. The three of them stepped outside onto the porch.
"Thank you for your help," Ryoma told the Observer, "we'll be going now then."
"No problem. Just hold on a second," bending down, Inui pulled three packs out of the corner they had been sitting in and closed the door. Straightening, he handed one to Ryoma, one to Momo, and slung the last over his own shoulder.
"Now we're ready."
There was a moment of utter silence.
"You're coming too?" Momo gaped in disbelief.
"Of course," Inui fished out his keys and locked the front door, "I can sense that your journey is going to be an interesting one. And something tells me it will mark the beginning of a great change. It is my job to take note of all such things."
The swordsman sighed, "I was afraid you'd say that."
TBC
Notes:
Names: Everyone who has been friends for a while will call each other by first name because this world is set up that way, except for Momoshiro, who likes to be called Momo, Tezuka, and Fuji, whose reasons will show up later.
Feel free to ask questions, though things should clear up later on.