Author's Note: Thanks to BlueTrillium, for taking the time to read this over.

xxxxx

For once, Noriko beat Izark to it. Driven by the overriding need to confirm the significance of Akane's presence, the young woman fell ungracefully through the door when it opened without her having pushed it–– straight into the woman who had just dashed to admit their group. This person exclaimed once, then caught Noriko up in a tight hug. With her face half buried in shoulder length hair so like her own in color, Noriko whispered one word through happy tears.

"Mama."

xxxxx

Chapter 3: Appearances

Glocia de Gilenee, daughter of Grand Duke Jeida de Gilenee of Zago and his wife Niana de Marshans, had recently celebrated her twenty-first birthday. That evening after supper, she surveyed the gathering before her with great satisfaction. She had hardly known what to think when, six months ago, a middle aged woman had slipped past all the guards on her family's estate in Zago to speak with her father. Alef was still smarting from the shame of it.

The lady had been very tall and thin, with a face that might once have been handsome, but never pretty. Pale hair, skin, and eyes made her more striking still; she should have been difficult to overlook. She gave her name only as Tara, and had refused all courtesies. With all possible frankness, the imposing woman had explained that she was a native of Noriko's birth-world, one with the talent and knowledge required for traveling between the planes. The question she put forth was simple: if she were to convey Noriko's family from her world to this one, would Jeida be willing to provide for them until they had been allowed to see Noriko?

Of course the Duke had agreed, at which point Tara had simply nodded and ––according to a very flustered Jeida–– vanished.

Two months later on the eve of the summer solstice, in the dead of night, Duke Jeida's guests (as the ordinary staff referred to them) had arrived. Glocia had not actually seen it happen. However, an hour before the group of strangely dressed visitors actually presented themselves at the manor gate, the young woman had had an episode the details of which she would not soon forget. Halfway through some tax records she was supposed to be reviewing, Glocia was overcome by the most surreal sense of otherness. She distinctly remembered smelling saltwater in the air, which should have been impossible in the landlocked Eego District; more than a thousand miles west of the Midland Sea.
Not long after this strange experience, a wide-eyed maid had burst into the room to summon the young mistress to the entrance hall.

Tara had stood in the antechamber. Behind her was a group of five adults and one child. Excluding the pale lady, whose dress was closer to the local attire than it wasn't, all had worn some manner of brightly patterned robes (none of Jeida's family had ever seen yukata before) and wooden sandals. Behind the people stood a number of what appeared in the torchlight to be traveling trunks.

Tara had introduced Noriko's family to the nobles as if she were conducting a business transaction––which, Glocia realized, she probably was. Noriko's father was rawboned and black-haired, with high cheekbones that seemed to jut from either side of his face. The fact that his hair was pulled into a low horsetail accentuated the thinness of his features. There was crackling attention in his deep brown eyes and in the gull's wing shape of his eyebrows. Tachiki Daisuke had stood straight though not tall as he greeted Jeida and his family with a bow and a grin that shone with enthused gratitude. Now Glocia knew from whom Noriko had learned to sparkle.

The young noblewoman had done a double take upon seeing Tachiki Yuri. With exception to her fringe of bangs, Noriko was a taller, younger image of her mother. The older woman seemed to exude tranquility.

Yuri's father, Suou Jin, had impressed Glocia as being a kindly old man, but his presence was entirely overwhelmed by those of his descendants.

It was obvious from his similarities to Yuri that Tachiki Jinta was Noriko's brother. He was twenty-three and on a height with his father. Even more than his little sister, Jinta emulated Yuri's easygoing disposition. His agreeable personality had made him welcome in the society of Glocia's brothers, Banadam, and some of the other young men of the household.

Shimatoku Chiyako was Daisuke's younger sister, and therefore Jinta and Noriko's aunt. The Duke's daughter had judged her to be around thirty, but it was a little hard to tell. In all her life, Glocia had never met anyone quite like this woman. Noriko and Yuri were exotic and beautiful, but in a soft, gentle way. Chiyako was devastating. Her face, like her brother's, had sharper contours than those of her sister-in-law and niece, and her large, black-brown eyes were distinctly slanted under the hereditary arched brows. Unlike Daisuke, Chiya-san–– as she liked to be called–– let her mane of fly-away black hair hang loose around her shoulders unless she was doing something strenuous. Each gesture she made, every word she uttered brimmed with life and confidence. She was quick to laugh, quick to remark, quick of wit, and quick to help.

Akane was Chiyako's daughter; a bold, bright child of nine. Glocia supposed she had inherited her father's looks. With her moon-shaped face and cropped hair, she bore very little resemblance to her stunning mother in anything but personality. The little girl's eyes, though muddy brown, gave off such fierce curiosity as to make them glow. Glocia thought that the oddest thing about Chiyako's child was that pin-straight black hair. It was so short– probably she shortest she had ever seen on anyone, male or female, that was older than an infant.

This precipitous arrival was followed by a mad scramble to organize some sort of reunion between Noriko, 2,000 miles away at the time; and her family, ensconced at Fief Gilenee in the Eego District of Zago. A month and a half of severe frustration had taught Akane to speak the common language of the Midland Sea quite fluently, and now she never stopped asking questions. Having been absorbed into the companionship of Rontarna and Koriki–– people his own age that were willing to teach him––Jinta was learning almost as quickly. Upon her arrival, Chiyako had established a place for herself helping the cooks, maids, and stable hands; however, as these people did not have much time to talk, began to speak more slowly. It was Yuri who––very sensibly it seemed to Glocia––attached herself to Niana, in whom she had a peer and a sufficiently loquacious teacher.

Of the six, Daisuke had had the most difficult time breaking down the language barrier. Though he would have found a good instructor in the Duke, Noriko's father must have sensed that Jeida had little time to mime and dictate and "explain" common nouns and verbs. And the Grand Duke really was very busy. Besides helping her mother manage the house, Glocia had done her best to relieve her father of at least part of the mountain of paperwork he received every day. Yuri had evidently noticed that her husband did not take part in conversations that included Midland. Glocia couldn't count the number of times she had overheard the woman carefully relaying all of the new words she had managed to decipher to Daisuke, pronouncing the word, then it's meaning in Japanese, then in the Midland again. He would then pronounce the word himself, sometimes incorrectly. After much repetition and piecework, and with much assistance from his patient wife, the man was gradually accumulating a reasonably well-stocked vocabulary. He used it primarily in the gathering of what seemed to be a history of his daughter's life in this world and all the factors contributing to the fulfillment of the prophecy of the Awakening.

The grandfather had no trouble whatsoever–– mainly because he didn't try. Ojii-san, as Jin had requested through Yuri he be called by anyone under fifty, learned four words: 'yes', 'no', 'please', and 'thank you', and declined to learn anymore, saying through his daughter that his memory was no longer what it used to be.

The road from Gilenee to Selena Guzena had not been nearly as eventful as some of Glocia's previous travels. They had arrived at Miss Zena's house only two days before Noriko's party.

Now, finally, after four months of planning, arrangements being made (across countries, seas and universes) and travel (between countries, continents and universes) they were––for the most part–– all here in one place: Dr. Clairgeeta; Lori the guardsman, from Aibisk; the two sets of former Gray Bird Tribesmen (Gaya, Zena, and Banadam meeting Danjel, Katarina, and Wei); Miss Zena's assistants, Anita and Rottenina; Noriko; her family; and Izark. Duke Jeida had, after much deliberation and even more pleading (there aren't many truly disinterested people who are willing to take government posts), found someone suitable to act as his steward for the time necessary to travel to Guzena, catch up with friends, make some gestures of diplomacy, and get back to Zago. Naturally Niana, Rontarna, Koriki, and Glocia had all opted to accompany him and Noriko's family. Chief Commander Alef de Elazard had, in the politest language possible, demanded that he be allowed to accompany them. Glocia suspected that, had her father found any reason to order Alef to stay in Zago, they would have discovered him in the luggage two weeks down the road. Agol and Geena were expected to arrive with Barago in a few days. Sadly, Mardwoog was too busy in Ennamarna to justify making the trip, and Doros had preferred to stay with his animals. Still, the presence of the Noriko's family had certain conciliatory value.

Glocia had selected this particular bench as her seat for its excellent view of the living room. From here, she was able to watch as Noriko knelt on the floor with Chiyako, speaking in fast Japanese and gesturing animatedly as had become her habit while she was still learning the language. Yuri listened nearby, a quiet smile in the curve of her mouth. Seeing them side by side, Glocia realized that there were differences between Noriko and her mother after all: though both possessed dark auburn hair, the girl seemed to have inherited the finer texture of her much longer strands from her father. And there was something else––some subtle variation in expression that could completely differentiate otherwise identical faces. Glocia would decide later that it was the difference between the ageless beauty of experience and that of youthful vigor, that aforementioned 'sparkle'.

Not far from the Japanese women, Akane was showing Katarina the toss she had learned in her judo class about half a year ago, and paying careful attention as the Gray Bird demonstrated a particularly useful grip. The child had staunchly refused to wear anything remotely like a skirt; she had compromised with Niana by accepting the loose smocks and leggings typically worn by younger children. The black hair that had so shocked Glocia had grown out a bit, but not enough to seem normal.

Duke Jeida spoke seriously with Zena and two Guzena ministers a few steps to Glocia's left. Down the wall to her right, Tachiki Jinta sat in a semicircle with Rontarna, Banadam, and Niana. He was teaching them to play the instrument in his lap, which he called a guitar. Lori son of Arikowa, the guardsman from Aibisk, leaned against the back wall as he watched the lesson, looking as if he wanted to join, but wasn't quite brave enough.

Dr. Clairgeeta sat on the bench opposite to Glocia's position, conducting his own review and smiling at her when she met his eye. Beaming in return, she turned her attention to the chairs in the center of the room. Danjel and Ojii-san sat together, sharing without words some inside joke known exclusively to seniors. Then again, perhaps she did know what they were laughing at. Koriki, bless him, stood near the door. His companion was Anita. They were flirting.

Now here was something interesting. At the tea table near the opposite wall, Rottenina was listening attentively, though with evident puzzlement, to Wei. She was in the kitchen when they arrived, Glocia realized. Wei, risking his grandfather's displeasure, had donned a clean brown shift and his favorite earrings. Everyone has described Wei as a man, and now Rottenina doesn't know what to make of him. The problem was made worse by the fact that Wei did not seem to have put on his female persona along with his dress. Still, they seemed to be having a nice conversation.

But where was Alef? There, just to the right of Dr. Clairgeeta's bench, leaning against the opposite wall in his typical carefree attitude next to Izark. For once, the man Glocia had known since she was ten and he sixteen was silent, though companionably so. His reasons were obvious. Izark, instead of his usual composed expression, wore the stoic mask of someone who is distinctly uncomfortable and trying hard not to show it. Why? When Alef looked up, Glocia caught his eye, and tilted her head to indicate Izark. He answered her with a look that was half smile and half grimace, then rolled his eyes to the spot diagonally across the room from himself. Glocia had to stand and peek around her father and his peers to see Daisuke speaking quietly with Gaya. Every few minutes, the Japanese man would glance at Izark.

The young woman couldn't help but giggle as she returned to her seat. Of course Izark was uncomfortable. He usually knew where people were looking, and hated being scrutinized himself. Glocia smiled at Alef, then turned her gaze back to the room at large.

Chiyako was talking now, with an expression of pure satisfaction as Noriko listened, her eyes serious. Glocia would have liked to speak with her friend, but thought she should have some time with her relatives first. There is always tomorrow.

Danjel had finally remembered to check Wei's apparel, and sent him to change with a glare that might have frozen the tea at his grandson's elbow. Now he took the empty seat by Rottenina in order to explain the situation, as Wei apparently had not. Her expression was, at this point, a perfect mixture of amusement and curiosity. Danjel was obviously surprised by the girl's composure. Well, Glocia reflected, I suppose many people react badly when they identify a transvestite.

"Glocia, you've been sitting over here without talking to anyone for quite long enough," Niana said in her daughter's ear, making her start. "Come and listen to Rontarna play. He's getting good at 'Violet Leaf'."

III III III III III

"I simply don't," Danjel declared between sips, "understand that boy. I don't think he wants to be mistaken for a girl, yet whenever he meets new people, he insists on dressing like one." The old man shook his head, then looked back at his listener. "Forgive my grandson. Wei tends to confuse people, even when he doesn't mean to." With that the aging tribesman stood up and returned to his seat by Jin, taking his teacup with him.

Twenty-year-old Rottenina remained where she was, thinking about what had just taken place. Personally, the dark-haired girl didn't really care whether Wei was male or female, or how he chose to dress for strangers. He was polite, attentive, and engaging. He had a taste for situation comedy and a pleasant turn of phrase. When her foster sister, Anita, abandoned her to dally with Koriki, Rottenina had been happy to talk with another young woman. She had been a bit confused––she had been told that Noriko and Katarina were the only women arriving today––but it didn't really signify that the amiable young woman turned out to be an amiable young man. He's pretty too, she thought. No matter how you look at him, he's pretty.

She was pouring another cup of tea when Wei returned, this time in a short black tunic trimmed with a border of white vines. He has good taste, was Rottenina's thought as she handed him the cup, having realized that his old one must be cold by now. "You were saying something about how you didn't think Izark slept like most people." It had been an interesting subject, and Rottenina had been a bit irritated when Danjel interrupted.

"That's right." Wei smiled. He always appreciated tact, and was grateful when the girl chose to ignore what had just occurred. "When we were in Mouzk, someone managed to blow the supports out from under the dais Dr. Clairgeeta was speaking from. Well, Izark managed to get everyone on and around the thing out of the way except for himself. Anyone else would have been killed, but all he got was some cracked ribs, a set of very…colorful bruises, and a need for rest. Still, he insisted that we leave that afternoon, to keep on schedule. Lori took the first watch when we camped that night, and it seemed strange to me for some reason. Then I realized that we had gotten into a routine where Izark always took the first watch. I also realized that I had never been on watch for more than an hour since he and Noriko joined us, and it was always Izark who relieved me. When I asked Lori about it, he said that it was the same for him. Well, I had my first three-hour watch in months that night, and by that time I was wondering if Izark ever slept. I don't always think straight after midnight. I shook him to see if he wasn't just faking. He'd really been asleep, for once, and he'd nearly strangled me by the time he was fully conscious." Wei paused for a drink, then continued, grinning. "Then Noriko came after me. With Grandfather's walking stick, if you can imagine."

The scene he spoke of sounded so comical that Rottenina nearly choked as she sipped her tea. It was difficult to picture Noriko driving anyone off with a stick, no matter what they had done to Izark.

They were silent for a time. Finally Wei said, more seriously, "I'd like to thank you for not mentioning what happened earlier. You're probably the first person I've met who didn't bring it up straight off. May I ask why?" He'd been looking into his cup, but met her eyes as he questioned her.

Rottenina shrugged. "I'm a seer," she said. "When I'm working, I see all kinds of people. Some women prefer to dress like men. Some men prefer to dress like women. I'm sure you have you're reasons, and though I don't know what they are, I'm sure they are good ones." Realizing what she was saying, the young woman blushed.

Wei grinned sheepishly into his tea. It was exactly the frank answer he had never expected to hear, and he was glad he had prompted it. "It's not that I like tricking people. I just got sick of them looking sideways at me. Either they can't choose between my face and my clothes, or they assume I'm a––well, either a tomboy or––or a wanton. It's less complicated when they have no reason to doubt my––femininity." The bashful grin changed to a feline smile. "And if anyone tries to take advantage of that… well, they get what they deserve."

"Ah." That was all Rottenina said for some time. Having lived with Gaya, Miss Zena's twin sister, she knew how much attention people paid to a fifty-six year old woman who wore the trappings of a swordsman, and that most of that attention was disapproving. She could imagine such condemnation multiplied three fold when applied to someone easily mistaken for an attractive young female. Finally, she asked, "Why haven't you told Danjel this?"

"He never asked."

"Neither did I."

"True, but you said the right things."

III III III III III

About the time Danjel had sent Wei to change, Tachiki Daisuke, in conversation with Gaya, remarked offhandedly that it was implied she had known Izark the longest of anyone present. Gaya chuckled, being fully aware of why Noriko's father might introduce that particular topic.

"It's true. I met Izark six years ago, when he signed on to the same caravan I was working for. I was a cook. When I realized he had talent and might need the skill, I offered to teach him swordsmanship." The swordswoman's grin widened as she said, "Actually, I had to use extortion to make him agree. I've never seen anyone so reluctant to take free lessons in defense. He finally accepted them when I gave him two options: he could either let me teach him to use a sword, or he could say farewell to peace and privacy." The grin faded, to be replaced by a thoughtful look. "He said he was afraid of hurting people even when he didn't mean to. I understand a little better, now that I know what he is." By now her expression was sober indeed. "It's sad, to think that Izark grew up believing himself to be the monster people said he would become."

Daisuke, watching the subject of their conversation, saw the young man's eyes flicker to them for an instant, then hurriedly away and back to where Noriko was now interrogating her aunt. When he spoke, his speech was slow and careful. "Is––good looking––not counting what else."

It was a safe comment. Still, Gaya burst out laughing.

"Everyone says that," she gasped finally, "except Izark." This time the mirth in her face didn't diminish. "And it always reminds me of going through northern Zago with the caravan." There was something about this polite, intelligent little man that spoke of inexhaustible vigor and inquisitiveness to match. It made Gaya want to tell him the stories she knew, despite her knowing the use he was, at that very moment, putting them to. She knew he would remember and value the things she related because he was a narrator himself. "The roads in the mountains of Zago are rough. We got stuck a few times, waiting for them to be mended or because the weather was too bad for travel. We stayed in towns when we could. When that happened, Izark did his best to disappear, but even his best wasn't enough. Sooner or later, the girls would congregate wherever he was, giggling and whispering. As you said, he's a handsome boy. None of us could help teasing him about it. Once I mentioned that some of the last bunch had been rather pretty. 'Looks have nothing to do with anything,' he said. Then he ran." Gaya was still smiling, but there was a trace of sorrow in the expression. "I can't decide if he was talking about the girls' looks or his own."

Still with his eyes on his daughter's significant other, Daisuke's arching brows arched higher. "[Interesting]" he mused. After a pause he asked, "But ––he always talk like old man? I no think Noriko put up with that," and started Gaya laughing again.

III III III III III

It was late before Chiyako was finished telling her niece of all that had occurred in the last four years. As everyone else went in search of their beds, Noriko went in search of Izark, who had finally had enough of leaning against the wall and sweating under Daisuke's assessing glances. She found him, as she had known she would, in the garden. His head was thrown back as he stared at the sky, resting all his weight on one leg. Together they stood silently in the starlight: the sable-haired warrior and the young woman with oriental eyes, watching the stars and listening to the wind as it rushed through the alley ways of Selena Guzena. Both knew there were light spirits up there, shining just as brightly as the 'real' celestial bodies they mimicked. There were spirits of darkness, too, in the black void separating bright spots. Some were lost forever, blind to the presence that the stars reflected. Others dragged themselves through the emptiness, taking the long, winding path out of the shadow dimension and into the world of harmony and light.

It was Noriko who finally broke the stillness. She reached up and, with one hand on his cheek, guided Izark's eyes down until they looked into hers. "How are you doing?"

The girl watched as the blank mask slid gradually away to reveal a strained smile. Izark's broad shoulders relaxed slightly; his eyes lost some of the opacity they acquired when their owner was being closed.

"It seems your aunt had much to tell you." He knew she didn't really expect an answer. Even when Chiyako had claimed most of her attention, Noriko had maintained her link with Izark. She was aware of his–– condition, whatever that might be called.

The young woman nodded, not taking her eyes from his face. "Chiya-san likes to talk. Alef was very quiet tonight."

"Unusually quiet, you mean." The last part of Izark's tension dissolved, and he gave a real smile, one of true and affectionate humor. "I think he was trying to give me emotional support. It makes one hope he might finally have given up the circus idea."

Noriko nodded again, thoughtfully. Her fingers remained on his temple as she said, "Otou-san can be a bit––" She paused. Overwhelming wasn't the proper word. Intense wasn't right, either. "Nii-chan––my brother, Jinta––asked me to apologize to you for him. Rontarna seems to have developed a fetish for the guitar, and Jinta got caught up in teaching him to pick out 'Violet Leaf'," she explained, naming the simple but popular folk tune inspired by the famed Trees of Morning Steam. "He said he'd like to talk to you tomorrow, if you had time." She gave him a critical look. "Izark, I know you have a hard time sleeping, but try and get some rest." You'll need it. Social gatherings tire you out.

Before she turned to go, Izark took both of Noriko's hands in his and kissed her forehead. "I'm alright," he tried to assure her. Then, speaking just louder than necessary, he said, "I just don't like being watched."

As Noriko walked back to the house, the young man in the garden lifted his eyes to the second story window. Whoever had been there had heard him, and gotten the message. Good. He had intended them to.

Izark stood for a while longer, deep in thought. It was a fortunate thing, he concluded, that Zena had arranged for the men and women to sleep in separate rooms. Normally he shared a room with Noriko, and that was perfectly innocent, but Izark could see how doing so might make her family uncomfortable. There was a certain small technicality about their relationship which has thus far been neglected, and which had, apparently, slipped the minds of everyone accept Izark, Daisuke, and Yuri.

Izark and Noriko weren't married. She didn't seem to mark it. He hadn't wanted to tie her down, in case she changed her mind––though that was quickly changing, much to his chagrin––, or to impose upon the wishes of such obviously loving parents. It hadn't occurred to him that presenting one's self to possible in-laws (from another world, no less) might be a tricky business.

Izark and Noriko weren't married. Yet.

At least, Izark admitted privately as he closed the back door, that's what I keep telling myself.

III III III III III

On her way up to the attic room she would be sharing with Rottenina, Anita and Katarina, Noriko passed Yuri on the stairs. What was Mama doing up here? she wondered as she continued to climb. She's sharing Gaya's room with Chiya-san, Akane-chan, and Niana. Gaya's room is on the ground floor.

xxxxx

Concerning Noriko's use of the word 'mama': At first, I had Noriko refer to her mother as 'Oka-san', the formal Japanese term for 'mother'. I liked the context, but the language just didn't suit Noriko's personality. Then, a few months back, I bought a Japanese Dictionary, and looked up 'mom'––except there was no entry for 'mom', so I tried 'mama'. Lo and behold, the Japanese use the exact same word. I think it's a transplant from English. Sadly, I am now struggling with terms of address for the rest of Noriko's family.

One of the problems with free online Japanese dictionaries and the Random House addition is that they do not cover modern and familiar terms of address. If anyone has any suggestions concerning the way in which Noriko refers to her family members, please let me know.

~ Muse