Little Fairy
On the small island of Satellite the kind owner of an orphanage has fallen onto hard times. To ensure that their funds wouldn't run dry she was forced to open her doors to the public by turning it into a small inn. The young orphans, bright and cheerful, have always been oblivious to their financial situation, which is what she wants even though it means they are of no assistance. Instead, she has the help of her godson who also is an orphan. His name is Yūsei and he is a kind-hearted young man who cares for her dearly.
仙女
The small port town of Satellite has descended into the silence of a late night. A cold wind races over and between the houses. A diminutive boat bobs over the sea. It comes gently in to land. There, a rope is thrown and tied around a rotting tree stump. Yūsei disembarks first. His arms have almost no strength left.
His voice calls softly. "Lì Qiū,"
She stirs ever so slightly. Her back remains hunched. Her hands still cling to the side of the boat. She raises her head by a little to look at him. Her hair has come loose. The ends are soaked, as are her hands and clothes.
She barely has a voice. "Gēge…"
He steps back onto the boat and carefully makes his way over to her. His aching arms made the journey back a long one. A few large gusts of wind brought the sea closer that was appreciated. He takes her wrists in his hands and urges her closer. She obeys as best as she can. Her body and legs are stiff. She hadn't moved since she boarded hours ago. Yūsei draws her away bit by excruciating bit until she staggers onto the land.
He wraps his arms around her. "It's going to be okay. Nothing is going to hurt you now,"
He sighs. He doesn't know why but he can't even believe himself. She stumbles forward weakly until her head is resting against his arm. A shiver races through her. She bites back on a silent sob. He turns her right hand gently and intertwines their fingers. He carefully leads her further in-land. The night grows icier and icier until - at long last - the imposing structure of the inn faces them.
He ushers her up the front steps and unlatches the door. The dining area is devoid of life. He breathes a sigh of relief. Lì Qiū glances up at him. Her eyes are moist once more. She can't help but question the permanency of his care. Her heart tears at what remains of her emotions. She lowers her head as the light flickers to a slow buzzing life. It illuminates the wide room that is so vastly inferior to the palace of Líng Dāo.
The door closes and he leads her to one of the rickety chairs. She obliges, slumping down in to it listlessly. Her hands lie limp on her lap. The mess that is her hair falls in clumps but does its task of concealing her weeping eyes. His footfalls grow distant. She ceases all efforts to with-hold her grief but still no sound is uttered. Her hands and arms quiver noticeably.
"Yūsei," Martha stands in the doorway. "Where have you been? You've been gone almost two days!"
He pauses at the kitchen sink. "It was… complicated,"
She sighs. "Was her home that far away?"
He turns around gradually. "Martha…"
She stiffens at the tone of his voice. "What's wrong?"
He murmurs. "Martha, they were attacked. Everyone was dead,"
Martha hurries over to him. "Are you all right?"
"I'm…" he falters. His hands are shaking, as are his legs. "Her grandmother… She asked me… She asked me to cremate them. I did. It was …"
She pats his back. "It's all right. You're back now. You don't have to go back there again. You're safe here,"
He let her try to calm him. It wasn't working. He knew that, felt it deeply. He pretended that it did, offering her a grateful smile. Her soothing words and actions remind him only of Lì Qiū's grandmother's bravery in her final moments of life.
"Martha," he takes as deep a breath as he can. "I'm going to go back. If there are any ashes I need to collect them. I have to give them to Lì Qiū."
She takes an unsteady step back. "She's here? Did she see them?"
He nods.
Martha's reluctance is clear. She stands still, undecided, for a long moment. Then, as fast as she can, she hurries out to the dining room. Once she's gone he runs a hand through his hair and takes fast gulps of air. The rivers of blood are sparking behind his eyes but he isn't the one in most need of care. He places his hand firmly on the counter and tries to imagine the happy days of his childhood. The joys of the past are unable to penetrate the grief of the present.
He stops trying soon, pushing away from the counter. A dish towel catches his attention. He snatches it on his way out. His boots utter shrill squelch sounds with every step. He suddenly remembers that he too is wet from the spray of the worsening wind and angering sea. His discomfort is pushed to the back of his mind as he braces himself for entering the dining room.
To his surprise the room is silent. Martha is kneeling by the despairing young lady, whispering in as comforting a tone as she can. She brushes Lì Qiū's sodden locks from her face. She appears even paler than before, he realises. He focuses on her as he makes a slow approach. Her eyes are terribly swollen and bright, volcanic red. The tears are still flowing. Her clothes are wet from her hair. She's shaking and choking on sobs and screams. Her hands are clasped tightly on her lap.
"Lì Qiū," he says softly.
She looks up to him. The despair in her eyes still makes him flinch. His whole body feels unable to move until she looks away. He kneels at her other side, pulling her hair over and tries to dry it. She doesn't notice. He can't blame her. The world must have become an endless nightmare.
"Yūsei," Martha's voice draws him from his thoughts. "You've done enough. Leave the ashes. This girl has been through enough. She has her whole life ahead of her. Don't make her look back. Don't make things worse for yourself. It won't do either of you any good."
He slows in his efforts. He considers the suggestion seriously, weighing up his knowledge and speculations. In the end he turns to Lì Qiū. The tears are still flowing but her eyes are almost closed. Her mouth hangs slightly agape. Her exhaustion is complete, but still she's fighting the urge to sleep just to be able to grieve for a moment more.
He shakes his head. "I can't,"
"Why not?" she demands: perturbed. "You arranged to cremate her friends and family as you were asked. You must have looked all over for them, too. You don't owe her anything else."
He responds immediately. "I don't owe Lì Qiū any more, you're right. I want to do this for her. I want to help her, and… I made a promise to someone. I'm going to take Lì Qiū to Neo Domino. I can't leave her with no one. No one should be this alone, Martha, don't you agree?"
She sighs in utter exasperation. "I can't change your mind, can I? Do what you think is right. Just promise me that you won't hurt yourself over this. She wouldn't want that either,"
He nods. "I promise,"
A dry towel is tossed in his direction. "Go and change in to something else and get to bed. I can take care of her,"
"Thanks,"
He gets up and walks over to the stairs without a backwards glance. His movements are perfectly fluid but there seems to be a strange reluctance about him. Martha sighs softly, turning back to Lì Qiū. She doesn't have the time to fuss over them both.
The tall walls of the palace stretch up to the edges of the sky. The tiles shimmer as a perfect reflection of the glowing sun. The lines of guards are clearly visible even miles away by their shields.
"Jack," he stiffens. "Why are you here?"
He turns around and salutes. "Saintess,"
Stephanie folds her arms and leans against the doorway. Her eyes drift over his shoulder to the palace in the distant. A clear hatred is prominent in the depths of her gaze. He resists the urge to shuffle his feet in her presence. She looks back at him.
"Answer me," she commands, impatient. "Do I have to repeat myself to a dog like you?"
He bows. "No, Saintess, please pardon my distraction. I was concerned for Carly,"
Stephanie pushes away from the door. "Listen to me, boy. I will not repeat myself to the likes of you. You are a street urchin who gained the pity of a general. You are lowly, and shall remain so, for the remainder of your years. My princess is not simply a woman of noble ancestry but you should know that. The simple truth is that of a priestess being too great a person for your concern. My princess is both. Leave this place at once,"
He stands his ground. "I was given direct orders to return Carly to the palace. I will not leave without her,"
She glares at him. "You may discard your orders. This place is beyond your powers,"
He shakes his head. "There is no place where the emperor is powerless in this land. Let me see her at least. She already gave me her word. It would reflect badly upon her if she were to change her mind,"
Stephanie looks him up and down. The casual disdain in her expression intensifies. She takes a single stride forward that causes a fierce hammering in Jack's chest to erupt. He almost winces but knows better than to reveal weakness to her.
Her fore finger jabs his throat. "I will take a blade to you, dog. I will cut you to tiny shreds. Now, go, before I become impatient,"
He forces himself to remain still. "Saintess, I was given instructions. I must remain here until Carly can accompany me and fulfil her word,"
She produces a blade from thin air. It lies between two of her fingers. A simple flick of her wrist could doom him.
"Saintess, what is this?" Stephanie jolts back, her arms to her sides. "What has this boy done to you to warrant such mercilessness?"
She bows. "My apologies, my Lady, I will leave this matter to you,"
She scurries from the room.
Jack bows. "Thank you for saving me. I am indebted to you,"
"No, you are not," the woman smiles. "I am indebted to you. You saved my daughter. There is no greater feat."
He lurches upright. "You're Carly's mother,"
"I am the empress of the White Lands," she glides towards him gently. "I understand that as a man of the emperor, a man of the Black Lands, you think badly of me."
He clenched his jaw. "Miss, you are mistaken. The White Lands are historic: they exist no longer. There is only the emperor,"
"My boy, there is much for you still to learn," she laughs lightly. "I implore you, now, to wait outside. This is not a place for men. I will ensure that my daughter accompanies you shortly. I will request for Mikage to meet you outside to ensure that you are comfortable. Until my daughter is in good health I can offer you no more."
She turns and glides away before he can respond. As she rounds a corner the sound of his retreating footfalls reaches her. She smiles once more, relieved. Her hand reaches out and gradually opens a door to her right.
"My daughter, are you well?" she slides it shut behind her. "Do you feel too ill?"
Carly looks up. Her face is pale and a layer of sweat covers her brow. She takes a shuddering breath. Her eyes struggle to focus.
"Mother…" she whispers with a parched throat. "Mother, I… I am… fine… Why are you… here?"
She sits down at the edge of the bed. "My dear, you are in ill health. What was I meant to do?"
She shakes her head weakly. "No…"
"Very well," she sighs, leaning closer and lowering her voice. "Tell me all that you know of your friend. I fear for her as I feared for my friend. You are a wise girl, Carly, very wise. Do not let her suffer the same fate as her mother. Do not allow what I allowed."
Author's Note: It seems that I'll be racing for the deadline once more. I suppose that I have little other choice. Even on my greatly reduced time table I have little freedom for my own purposes. My obsessions and eccentricities are of little help as well. However, I do think I will work better with the next chapter. My laptop soon will be visiting the laptop hospital. I must remain ahead by enough for that. I do suppose that it will be of little interest to you, but I will say so regardless, I have two blogs. The first is AncientSwordLegends and the second is China Sorrows. Both are on Wordpress. Please look to them if you have the time.
Thank you for reading my work.