** disclaimer: Digimon does not belong to me. Takeru Takaishi / Ishida, Hikari Kamiya, Yolei Inoue, Davis Motomiya, Ken Ichijouji, Cody Hida and Yamato Ishida don't belong to me. If they did, I'd be rich. The Taelidani, Khaydarin, Sai Auia, Razul and Locke do belong to me. So leave me alone you vultures!
Pilgrimage: Chapter Eight
By: TK Takaishi
The Gaean peoples were strong. Once upon a time.
The Aeon of Strife preceding the great Seihad was an age of great turmoil and conflict. A bloody series of overlapping wars lasted well over a hundred years, ravaged the land and rent the nations apart. But turmoil and conflict inevitably bred people who were strong. People who were not afraid to grab destiny by its horns, and shake it to bend to their will.
Then Adun came along and crafted the Age of Gods. And the past wars, with all its bitterness and strife, faded away to make way for a new era. The memory of war did not fade easily or quickly, generations of hate did not simply go away, and Adun did not live to see the true, complete peace he had dreamed of. But his followers, and the sons of his followers lived to see the peace kept. And for centuries, not a single kingdoms drew their swords, or strung their bows. There was no need to. This was Adun's vision, how Heaven's Land was truly meant to be.
At least, that had been the theory.
But peace also brought about complacency. At the turn of the Ato Seihad fifth century, a generation grew up fascinated with the Aeon of Strife. They were not content with the fake peace offered by the Age of Gods. They were labeled as radicals, or even blasphemers, but they were closer to the truth than any realized. They were the few wise enough to realize that the evil had not been destroyed. The evil still resided within each of them, in remission, eagerly awaiting the first opportunity to rise to the surface once again. This was not the perfect world the Tenken was supposed to usher into Gaea. A growing school of thought maintained that Adun was not the vaunted Tenken after all. Or even that the Tenken was never supposed to be. It was all a lie. A lie that had lasted so long because the peoples were afraid of the truth.
The truth that humankind had not, and never would, change.
And that generation realized that once again, people of strength were needed. People who were not afraid to flog destiny until it became their slave. People that realized the weak were unfit to share the world along with the strong. There would be no true peace until only one kingdom stood proud and strong on Gaea, with every other nation either ground into dust, or divided and conquered. The weak nature of humanity required it. There would be no war in the land, simply because there would be no one to wage war with.
Yamato Ishida was one of that generation. As a child, he was already wise enough to know that this world was desperately lacking in leaders. After all, if his parents told him the Age of Gods would be eternal, then why did it end? If God truly existed, why did he do nothing as Gaea crumbled into chaos around him?
As a youth, he rallied beneath the golden serpent, and dark banners of Khaydarin. He was constantly amazed by the stupidity of those around him. How could they not notice it? It was so obvious! So plain! Khaydarin knew the truth. It mattered not which nation would rule all the others in the end. But Khaydarin was the strongest. For them, it was within reach. Thus, it was their duty to make sure that vision became reality. And for that, what was required was someone who had the iron, unbending will to do what was necessary, and what was right to win.
Yamato had that will. And as the Age of Gods crumbled in one short decade, and the civil strife began again, he proved himself to the Emperor of Khaydarin. He was a leader. The blood of Emperors ran in his veins, and he was worthy. He began as a mere soldier. Then he became a Centurion. And finally, at the unbelievably young age of twenty, he became Praetor, one of the select commanders of Khaydarin, second only to the Emperor himself. And it was then that he was truly allowed to make Gaea understand the lesson it had to learn.
He started with his Emperor's orders. With his newfound powers, he wreaked havoc among the nations of Gaea, plunging it further into the new Aeon of Strife so that there was no hope of unity among them. First he destroyed small homes. Then he toppled villages, towns, cities. Entire nations went to war because of him. After all, he was Ishidan. Whatever he put his mind to, he could accomplish. For the first twenty years of his life, he had no equal, no rival.
At first, the killing of innocent people distressed him. They were not enlightened. They had merely committed the sin of buying into the collective lie Adun offered. The lie that peace was possible when the land was not truly united. Many a night, Yamato wept to himself as he slept, questioning his dream, questioning his vision. But as he continued, he began to see of their deaths as a necessary, cleansing fire. Everything of old must be torn down to make space for the new. Out of the ashes of their bodies would arise a new Gaea. It was a tasteless task, but someone had to do it.
And as he continued to follow Khaydarin's directives, his dream consumed him. Then it consumed the corner of Gaea he had been assigned to, the Novinha mountain ranges. In time, he was certain, the entire world would realize its folly, and follow the wisdom of his dream. Khaydarin would stand proud and tall upon Gaea. And as sure as day followed night, true peace would descend upon the land. Destiny would prove him right when he emerged victorious. He was certain of that.
At least, he had been certain until the moment Takeru's Shun Ten Satsu slammed into his ribs, wrenched his sword from his grasp, and left him lying utterly defeated on the ground.
And then, against all reason, Takeru had spared his life.
Yamato awoke with a start.
The blond man was a soldier, trained to be a killer since he was five. He needed no time to reorient, or gain his bearings. Instinctively, his hand went down to feel the reassuring weight of his sword propped up against his bed. But as he moved, he was immediately aware of a burning pain from his chest. A line of prickling fire stitched its way across his ribs.
Looking down, he realized that he someone had bandaged up his bare chest. A slim line of crimson red soaked through the fabric, but otherwise, there was no trace of the blood he had been covered with earlier. Gingerly, he probed the wound. A sharp pain rippled up his torso, and he winced. But thankfully, he noted that his ribs did not seem to be broken. Merely bruised.
"You're awake sir."
Yamato turned his head to see Locke peering concernedly at him from his seated position. The Centurion was clad in a fresh tunic, and his battle armour and mask was nowhere to be seen. There was no evidence of the dirt and blood of battle. All around them was the gray fabric of his Praetor's tent, lit only by a single lantern that hung from its stand.
"How long was I out?" he rasped quietly.
"About one week sir," Locke replied. "Praetor Karensky took command of his own corps, and went ahead. But we never clashed with the Ichijoujan army again."
"Casualties?"
Locke did not sound happy. "Four-score dead. Three-score injured. We will need time to lick our wounds after this one."
Yamato sighed. "Merde," he said flatly.
"It was a trade-off," Locke remarked off-handedly. "They also-" Then he stopped in alarm as Yamato sat up with a groan. "Sir, you really shouldn't be moving!"
Yamato silenced the Centurion with a short wave of his hand as he clutched at his chest, trying to control his pain-laboured breathing. His hand shaking, he brushed the blond hair out of his blue eyes, and vaguely wondered what had happened to his mask. Instinctively, he reached down again, and touched the sheathed sword resting against the side of his bed. When he finally felt like he could speak again, he whispered a simple question. "How about Sai Auia?" he asked.
Locke looked uncomfortable as he debated whether or not to press the issue of his superior moving against the healers' orders. In the end, he decided not to comment on it.
"Burned to the ground. But there was no one inside it. The city was deserted. The few hundred civilians we managed to find were in the outlying villages. The hunter-seekers got most of them before we did."
"They knew we were coming," Yamato said tiredly. "They abandoned their city." Then he looked around.
"We're still in the same canyon where we clashed with Ichijouji and the Taelidani sir," Locke said, following his superior's gaze. "We refused to move until you were recovered. Praetor Karensky…didn't agree, naturally. He and his corps went ahead to attack Sai Auia. We…stayed here because of you."
The Praetor drilled Locke with a sharp glance. It was not the answer he expected to hear out of his dutiful Centurion. His next question was only one syllable long.
"Ken?"
The Centurion looked away. "He got away," he said in a low voice. "The Fifth and the Sixth Imperial corps closed the gap, and he's probably back at Halidan by now. The mission was a failure. I imagine Praetor Karensky is livid."
Yamato closed his eyes, and leaned his head back wearily. The mission had been a failure. Ken had escaped. And as he escaped, the secret of the attackers of Maran and Sai Auia would be spreading through the kingdom, indeed across all of Gaea like wildfire even as they spoke. The whole project, which had taken a month to intricately plan out, had fallen through.
Strangely however, that thought did not burn as much as he had thought. It was almost as if he had been expecting that all along. He could not muster up much emotion anymore. It all seemed so petty in perspective of what had happened, like a candle overshadowed by a great bonfire.
"But Yamato, don't you understand? I never wanted to be your better…"
Locke gazed concernedly at his superior's face. The Praetor looked haunted. For the first time, the flicker of self-doubt crossed that usually supremely confident face. A glimmer of uncertainty gleamed in those normally serene blue eyes. It was not so much the physical. Something had happened to his superior in the last battle. And the rock of wisdom that had been Praetor Caylor was changing. Locke didn't like it one bit.
"Sir?" he said hesitantly. "The…the medics. When they treated your wound, they said they haven't seen anything like it. Neither have I, for that matter."
"Why? What did it look like?" Yamato said, his tone disinterested.
"Like a blunt instrument, heated until it was white-hot, then scored across your chest with a crushing impact. What…what manner of attack was it?"
Yamato smiled ironically. "Of course they haven't seen anything like it," he said softly. "Never in the history of Gaea has the Shun Ten Satsu been used with the dull side of the blade before. No-one has been quite that stupid…until now."
The Centurion sucked in a breath. "The Shun Ten Satsu?" he said in surprise. "I thought that technique was dead. We killed it."
"The Shun Ten Satsu is not only wielded by knights. It is also wielded by members of the Royal Family."
Locke's eyes widened as the implications hit him. "Crown Prince Takeru did this?"
Yamato looked away.
"But why did he use the dull side?" Locke continued in puzzlement, unaware of his master's inner turmoil. "Sir, if he had used the sharp side, you would have been…" He stopped as he realized what he was saying.
"I would have been killed," Yamato said bluntly. "I would have been cut in half." There was no point in hiding the truth. He should be dead by now. He should have died one week ago. Takeru had won the battle. Another fragment of half-remembered conversation floated up to his consciousness.
"May victory go to the person who is right."
He lay in his pallet, staring up at the tent ceiling as he tried to will the confusion away. All his life things had been ordered. Neat. Black and white. As a child, he prided himself on organizing things. Messy things annoyed him, so he filed them away into their own neat little compartments.
But now, the confusion frightened him. The messy things refused to go quietly into their neat compartments. Nothing he did could push away the questions…
"Sir?" Locke's voice seemed to come from far away. "Sir, are you all right?" With a great effort, Yamato warded away the storm of confusion inside him, and realized that there were twin tracks of moisture on his face. Hesitantly, he reached up and touched them, then gazed carefully at the crystal drops on his finger-tips.
Are these tears? he wondered.
A second later, he answered himself. I wouldn't know. I've never shed them before…
"Why?" he whispered to himself. "Why did he spare me? And why did he win?"
Locke could only shrug helplessly. "I don't know sir," he said honestly. Then he lapsed into an awkward silence. What do you say when your superior seems to be going to pieces right in front of your eyes? When the leader you had always looked to for guidance, the all-powerful, all-knowing God of war suddenly starts crying? What answers can you give him?
"Sir," he finally said, touching the Praetor on the elbow concernedly. "Are you all right? Are you in pain? Shall I call for a medic?"
Yamato took a deep breath. "Centurion," he said in a ragged voice. "I very much doubt that a medic can help me right now."
Then the Praetor seemed to pull himself together with a visible effort. His shoulders heaved with several deep breaths as Yamato carefully composed himself once again. His commander's mask dropped into place as his face blanked of all emotion. But he could not hide his eyes. His eyes still had that haunted look. The ever-present confusion that hinted at the raging turmoil inside.
"I suppose you're curious to know exactly what happened in that battle?" he said.
Locke opened his mouth to deny it, but one look at Yamato's blue eyes convinced him otherwise. "Yes," he said simply. "The whole corps is dying to know of the warrior skilled enough to…to…" he could not bring himself to say the final two words.
Defeat you.
Yamato stared blankly at some spot on the opposite tent wall. "It was a simple battle," he said in a flat monotone, "A simple battle he should not have won. No warrior with such foolish notions of justice restraining him should have been able to stand up against me. Yet he did. Somehow…"
Locke did not interrupt. Instead, he settled down quietly to listen. All these years of faithful serving, and the Praetor had never said anything like this. Never did Locke realize that Caylor might have such profound, and deeply rooted beliefs. The blue eyes trembled with violent emotion, although the face itself remained impassive.
"In that battle," Yamato continued, still in that emotionless voice. "We unleashed our succession techniques on each other. My Kyo Shaiyuku versus his Shun Ten Satsu. We put it all on the line, confident that destiny would choose the one that was right…as the victor."
"And Takeru won," Locke said quietly, finally understanding.
"More than that," and the Centurion was startled to hear the Praetor's voice crack with emotion that he was not quite able to suppress completely. "He spared my life afterwards. Destiny chose him as the victor, and he spat in its face." He sighed. "I…don't know what is true anymore…"
Locke stood up abruptly, his storm gray eyes wide. "Surely you can't doubt that what we are doing is right!"
"Can't I?" Yamato's eyes were suddenly blazing. "Fifteen years Locke. Fifteen years of bloodshed, with no end in sight. And paradise has not come. Instead, hell has entrenched itself firmly in this land. After a decade and a half, one begins to wonder..."
"The Emperor decreed it! It must be right!" Locke said desperately.
"Who says the Emperor is right?"
The Centurion's reply stuck in his throat. It was preposterous. The Praetor was blaspheming. The Khaydarin code had been considered sacred for hundreds of years. The Emperor was never wrong!
Or could he?
"And is Takeru right?" Locke said furiously. "To restrain oneself so? He believes that peace can be attained without having to conquer everyone. But is that not to believe, blindly and foolishly, that each person is inherently good? Adun tried that, and look what happened!"
"His dream," Yamato said wearily, "is an idealistic one. One doomed to failure, simply because man will never change. I am not so insane as to believe in his folly. But our collective dream, is it any better? The goal of Khaydarin. Is it really worth all this killing? Is the price too high?"
An awkward pause settled between the two as the question hung in the air. Locke's own thoughts were in turmoil. Vaguely, in some corner of his mind, he realized that the Praetor was talking treason. But he didn't care. This was far beyond that. What could he say to something like that? Nothing he could say could make this easier for either of them. So he remained silent. A small breeze drifted through the tent.
Finally, Yamato sighed and put down the sword. "Locke, what happens when something that a person has believed in all his life, has dreamed of all his life, is suddenly shattered like glass before his very eyes?"
Locke looked up, his eyes determined. "That person would be utterly lost. All people have a purpose. When that purpose is taken away, we become blind."
"Tell me, friend. Can that person then find his way again?"
Locke started. What did Praetor Caylor just call me?! He swallowed the lump of surprise in his throat, and answered the question honestly. "I…I don't know sir. I believe so. If he searches very hard for it, he will find it."
Yamato closed his eyes, and opened them again. When he did, the blue pupils seemed to be laced with uncertainty. "I believe," he said simply, "that I am lost."
To Locke, he did not have to think of his answer. It just seemed so obvious to him. No amount of logic could reason it out. No amount of thinking could make it easier. And he did not consider for a moment that he was talking to a superior officer. It just came down to the heart.
"Then I suppose," he said calmly, "that you'll have to look very hard to find your way again."
Then there was silence. Locke looked outside, and realized that it was pitch dark outside. The stars shone brightly, shedding their holy light on the cold earth below. How very peaceful it must be for them, he thought wistfully. Untroubled and unfettered by mortal concerns like right and wrong. They simply…exist. Touching nothing, and touched by nothing.
Carefully, he reached into his pocket and felt his fingers close around a flat, cold metal object. Drawing his hand out, he gazed upon the dark metal mask that was Praetor Caylor Ga'artred's trademark. Handing it to Yamato, he said awkwardly, "Here. Some of our men found it on the battlefield, and gave it to me. I thought you'd like it back."
Yamato gazed numbly at the object. Without a word, he took the mask, and put it down on the wooden bench beside his bed carefully. For a moment, he only stared at it, tracing his fingers across the smooth material.
Then in one swift movement, he lifted his sword, and smashed the base of the hilt down upon the finely planed metal.
The mask shattered into a million pieces, the bridge of the nose and a piece of glass from the left eye flying from the table altogether to skitter across the ground. Locke didn't say anything. He didn't even flinch as the earsplitting crack of the mask's demise rang through the air.
The two sat in shared silence as they gazed impassively at the broken remains of Praetor Caylor Ga'artred's mask. When Yamato spoke again, his voice was steady. There was no trace of confusion anymore. Only determination.
"Centurion Locke Dimak," he said formally. "I hereby promote you to the rank of Praetor, with all the privileges and honours entitled to you. You are assigned to command this Khaydarin corps, and lead this army on its continuing mission as best you can."
Locke was stunned speechless. He gestured helplessly as he floundered, unable to put his amazement into words. Yamato ignored his reaction as he carefully reached into his tunic, and withdrew a small badge from a secure pocket. The mark of Praetor. Carefully, he handed it to Locke. "Take good care of it, soldier," he said gently. "And take good care of these men. They are yours now. Use them as you see fit."
Locke finally found his voice. "Sir," he said in a hushed voice. "I am not ready…"
Yamato tilted his head. "No you are not," he conceded. "But you will learn. You will adapt. And you will become one of the greatest." There was absolutely no doubt in the man's expression. "In time," he murmured.
Locke stared at the badge in his hand reverently, his fingers carefully caressing the stainless steel. Each Praetor had a personalized emblem, with their name carved on it. The one that Yamato had given him was not the blond man's own badge. The one Locke held had the name "Locke Dimak" inscribed on it and bore the royal seal of Khaydarin, which meant Yamato must have been anticipating this moment for some time now. It took a considerable amount of time and effort to craft a Praetor's badge. The revelation overwhelmed him.
He was a Praetor. The power frightened him. He was not ready, and he could not imagine when he would ever be. But as the surreal moment passed, an even more pressing concern crowded its way into his mind. He looked up quickly as it hit him.
"And…and you sir?"
The blond man gazed back with something akin to determination in his eyes. There was a long moment of silence. And in that moment, Locke realized that there was really no need to ask. He knew it already. Had known all along, the moment Yamato had begun talking treason.
"Yes sir," Locke said in deference. "I understand." He sat beside his superior's bed for a few moments longer, trying to ignore the sudden ache in his chest. When he finally mustered up the courage, he stood up, turned on his heel and strode for the door of the tent.
But as he stepped through the doorway, he stopped. The small but insistent tugging at his heart suddenly turned into a yanking pull. Hesitantly, he turned around to look at his superior one more time. There was Yamato, still sitting up in his bed, his blue eyes gazing up curiously at Locke. Slowly, Locke brought his right hand up to his temple, and gave the Praetor one final salute.
"I just want you to know sir," Locke said hesitantly. "I…all of us…we didn't fight for Khaydarin. We fought for you. You'll…you'll always be our commander."
Yamato gazed back. And for a moment, the confusion left his eyes as his first, genuine smile touched his lips. In all his years of serving under him, Locke had never realized that the Praetor could smile like that. With such warmth.
"Acknowledged, soldier," the Praetor said quietly as he returned the salute.
Then Locke left. That was all two soldiers would show to each other. A simple "goodbye" would suffice. The newly promoted Praetor strode quickly across the sandy ground, trying to put as much distance from Yamato's tent as possible before his emotions overwhelmed him. His feet stirred up the dry sand, lifting it into blowing clouds that hugged the ground.
But it was useless. Even as he strode into his own dwelling, the lump in his throat was as large as ever. Sitting down on his bed, Locke buried his face in his hands and took a deep breath. He was a soldier. Soldiers did not cry.
He knew what he would find in the morning when he checked. The tent would be empty, the bed deserted. The Praetor's horse would be gone, the young man off on a quest to find the truth. The tracks would be untraceable, even to the most experienced tracker. Most of Yamato's belongings would still be in place, but the sword and cloak would be missing. The fragments of the metal mask would remain. He had always believed in travelling light.
Pull yourself together, Locke commanded himself sternly as he tugged off his shirt, and collapsed onto his bedroll. You're a Praetor now, you'd better start acting like one. But it was useless. The ache was there. Deep in his chest, and thick in his throat. He was not ready. He would only be a shadow of the man that was Caylor Ga'artred, a pale replacement at best.
Because no matter how Locke tried to convince himself otherwise, he had a horrible feeling that he would never see the enigmatic blond man known as Caylor Ga'artred again.
"Two men can live their lives on the same path and have completely different faiths and beliefs. And two men can spend ten years finding the truth about themselves. So I guess I'll find something to believe in after I've looked for ten years."
- Seta Soujiro, Rurouni Kenshin
**********
** two weeks later, port city of Halidan, capital of Ichijouji**
Hikari Kamiya adjusted the collar of the white shirt around her neck, and studied the effect in the large, gold-framed mirror of her room. The faint, silver patterns embroidered onto the breast and the arms of the fine cloth matched the colour of her stand perfectly. Ken, she thought in amusement. Of course, he'd give me a shirt like that…
Sighing, she reached to the chair beside her, and took the deep blue cloak hanging from it. Putting it on her shoulders, she fastened the golden broach at the front, turning as she looked at her own reflection. The loose black pants, fastened at the waist with a white sash were tucked into her soft, leather boots. All in all, these clothes were the plainest there were in Ken's palace, and they were easily the finest Kari had ever worn in her life. Well…except for the pants. She had steadfastly refused to wear a dress, which would be more of a hindrance than an aid where she usually traveled, and the smallest men's pants they could find were two sizes too large for her.
A knock on the door startled her out of her self-reflection. With a last glance in the mirror, she turned towards the door. "Come in. It's not locked."
Takeru opened the door and looked around hesitantly before he stepped in. "Hey Kari, have you seen Ke…" He trailed off as he stared at the girl. "Damn…," he muttered. "I never thought…"
Kari was staring at Takeru as well. The blonde boy's plain, brown rurouni cloak was nowhere in evidence. Instead, he was clad in a fine dark green shirt over brown pants. A cloak made of white silk hung off of his shoulders. His sword hung off a broad leather belt with a golden buckle at the front. Gold! "This…," she said, "Will take some getting used to."
"Yeah well," Takeru said as he walked all the way in. "We're among Royalty now. Might as well look like it. Still…." He shook his head. "Speaking of which, have you seen Ken?"
"No, I haven't." Kari raised her eyebrows. "Why?"
Takeru flinched with pain as he sat down on the edge of Kari's bed. His wound still wasn't completely healed. "He took my jade pendant yesterday, saying he was going to hand it over to his kingdom's scientists to have it studied."
"Well, he didn't tell me anything. And you really shouldn't be moving around," Kari quipped as she saw his expression. "The healers were pretty explicit about that."
Takeru shook his head. "Don't you start with this whole 'you've got to rest' spiel."
"Why not? Since you were obviously born lacking any sense of self-preservation, someone's got to do the job for you."
"I'm going crazy in bed Kari, doing nothing but stare out the window at Halidan all day. Another moment and I would've gone stark-raving mad. I'm injured, not a vegetable!"
The girl smiled at that. Holding up her hands, she backed off in surrender. "All right, have it your way." Turning, she gazed out the window. In a way, she sympathized.
Halidan was a huge city, bigger than anything Kari had ever seen. Sai Auia looked like it could have been swallowed within those great spires, towers and thatched roofs with hardly a ripple. Great high arches looking too delicate to support their own weight snaked their way in-between the high temple courtyards like threads in a spider-web. Up here, in their perch on the upper floors of the Royal palace, the people bustling about the broad, cobbled streets looked little larger than ants to Kari. Horse-drawn carriages, some carrying foodstuffs from the outer provinces, some bearing the sign of a House, cantered this way and that in the melee.
People wore an outrageous mix of clothing. To Kari's sharp eyes, a group wearing plain white shawls and cloaks, with everything veiled except the tips of their fingers and their eyes, would walk right next to a band of young people wearing bright colours, gaudy jewelry, and revealing more skin than she thought appropriate. Turbans were in evidence next to people who went bareheaded. It was Ken that had finally explained to her how Halidan, being a port city, was very much a melange of cultures from all across Gaea.
The pale gray walls were curved to fit the contours of the land in the small, rolling hills along the coast. And on the eastern side, the walls extended almost all the way down to the large, busy harbour. The large piers were made of solid wood and dressed stone, and extended almost a kilometer out into the sea, looking very much like large white fingers against the dark blue waters. The sun sparkled off the white sails of fat merchants' vessels, smaller sloops and schooners, and even two mighty four-masted battleships Sirius and Orion, the flagships of the Ichijoujan naval fleet, stood anchored in the deep bay.
All visible from the palace windows. No wonder Takeru was going stir-crazy.
"Did it ever occur to you," she murmured, "that we're probably the first two from Kurtal to ever see the ocean?"
Takeru shifted gingerly on the bed, trying to avoid jarring his wound. "I…guess. Except Richard of course. He probably saw the ocean at least once or twice in his life. I don't think anybody else did though…" He trailed off awkwardly, the thought unfinished.
And they never would.
"Y'know," Kari said, a hint of irony touching her voice. "When we were little, you and I were always dreaming about adventure. Must be those sea-pirate stories our parents told us to scare us into bed, remember?"
Takeru said nothing, so Kari kept on going. "Just like in the stories. Leaving home on some bold, reckless quest. Dashing princes rescuing swooning princesses, great monsters and epic battles. Scary villains and great sword fights. It all seemed like great fun."
Takeru laughed humourlessly. "It's not." His hand unconsciously touched his wound. He grimaced. "In fact, it hurts like hell."
Kari drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them, looking down at a point on the ornate rug in her room. "No, it's not," she agreed quietly. "The stories never mentioned starving for lack of food, or sleeping in the rain for days on end…"
She sighed. "We're so far from home Takeru," she whispered as she looked down. "It was so simple back then. So peaceful. So safe. And now, we don't even have a home. It's been a year. An entire year. I miss Kurtal. I miss my mother. When will it ever end?"
There was a soft rustling sound, then suddenly Takeru was beside her. She could feel his breath on her cheek as he gently put his arms around her, the soft, steady heartbeat in his chest. Closing her eyes, she leaned on him, gratefully allowing her cheek to rest against his shoulder. "Keep your eyes on the goal," Takeru said softly. "Remember, God's inheritance. What we'll gain at the end of this pilgrimage, will be far more than all the riches of this world put together…"
"It's hard," Kari whispered. She knew she had to put on a strong face to encourage others, people like Mara. But in front of Takeru, she could give in. "Every time you go out there Takeru, I…I'm afraid you won't come back. The…the stories never spoke of that either."
Takeru put a hand on the back of her head, touching her hair. They stood like that for a long time, rocking in each other's embrace in the middle of the room. Neither of them said anything as Takeru rested his head beside Kari's, content to feel her heart beat against his own, the warm pressure of her body against his own. Kari could feel the brush of Takeru's mouth on her neck, the shape of his nose against her cheek, the distinct, pine-fresh scent of the soap he had bathed in…
"When Ken got back," she said quietly into his chest, "I spent a lot of time comforting family after family. Parents who had lost their son. Sisters who had lost their siblings. Even…," and here her voice cracked, "wives who had lost their husband. And the whole time, do you know what I was thinking?
"I was being insanely, incredibly, tearfully grateful that you were still here, still alive! I don't to ever end up like them, to be…to be torn up like that. I know it's selfish of me, but that was all I could think of! I-"
Suddenly, Takeru put a finger on her lips, shushing her. When she tried to open her mouth in protest, Takeru only shook his head. "Don't say anymore," he said firmly. "Not a word. You won't end up like them. I will always come back. Always."
Kari's words died on her lips. Takeru's arms suddenly shifted, and gently but firmly turned her around. Her breath caught in her throat as she gazed into his blue eyes, which looked unusually bright, even for him. He swallowed hard and adjusted his suddenly sweaty palms.
Then time seemed to stop as he, very slowly and very carefully, lowered his head, drawing closer and closer until she could taste his breath on her lips…
The bedroom door creaked as someone opened it abruptly. A harried voice said, "Kari, I…" The sentence was cut short abruptly. And then…
"Oh! I…I'm sorry…," Ken's voice said, sounding more than a little flustered.
For a fleeting moment, Kari seriously considered summoning her stand and blasting Ken all the way down the fifty-foot corridor, Royal prince or not. Takeru exhaled loudly in what sounded like a shaky laugh. Pulling away from him, Kari turned and glared at Ken. "What do you want?"
"Speak of the devil," Takeru muttered under his breath.
It was a sign of his worry that Ken, normally so polite, had forgotten to knock. Indeed, it was also the first time Kari had ever seen the calm and composed prince blush. "I…I really should've knocked before I-"
"You should have," Kari said tartly. "But now that you're here…," she looked at Takeru. The blond boy seemed to have withdrawn. Sighing, she turned back. "What is it? How could I help you?"
Ken for his part, raised his eyebrows not at Kari, but at Takeru. "Aren't you supposed to be resting?"
"Don't you start!"
Kari shook her head. "Oh leave him alone, Ken," she said in mock-admonishment. "I bet you'd be going stir-crazy after two weeks in bed."
Ken opened his mouth to retort, then thought better of it. Instead, he took out Takeru's green pendant from his pocket, and tossed it to the Ishidan prince. "Here's your pendant." Takeru caught it deftly in midair. Then Ken pulled up a chair, and sat down with a tired sigh. "We know this much at least. Whatever that is, it's not jade, despite its appearance. It's far too hard. Aside from that, my people can't make heads or tails of it."
"You're telling me you didn't learn anything aside from that?" Takeru said, frowning as he looped it back around his neck.
Ken spread his hands out helplessly. "It's green."
Kari sighed, and Takeru looked nonplussed. But before either of them could say anything, Ken ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "No really, that's about all we learned, for all our prodding, probing and testing. It's not any stone we know of. Yet it doesn't seem to be anything but stone! And the best minds of my kingdom have yet to comprehend how it can be a key of any sort…"
"How about Khaydarin?" Kari cut in. "Where are they right now?"
"Yeah, that was what I was coming in to tell you." Ken leaned forward in his chair. "The Fifth and Sixth Corps have been tracking them ever since they found them. But as of yesterday, they completely disappeared. The entire legion. The Sixth is trying to pick up their trail again, but…" The Prince looked frustrated. "How the hell do you track something that can turn invisible at will?"
"Then they can be headed anywhere, to any kingdom," Takeru mused thoughtfully.
"Oh, I'm taking care of that," Ken said firmly. "The moment I got back to Halidan, I issued orders to have this entire country mobilized. All the corps are being prepared for full-scale war, and some new ones are being trained. It'll take months, perhaps even a year to prepare for a war of this magnitude, but when the Seihad comes, I intend to be ready."
He looked out the window. "Makes all these civil wars seem like child's play, doesn't it? Suddenly, it all seems so petty…"
"The others?" Kari asked. "How about the other kingdoms?"
A small smile tugged at Ken's lips. "I sent messengers to all of them. I hope that the white flag sign will keep them safe until they deliver their message at least." He rubbed his face tiredly. "Against all reason, and all the advice of my counsellors, I'm withdrawing all my troops from every battle-line Ichijouji is currently engaged in. Any conquered territory is being returned at once. Perhaps it'll be a precedent for others to follow. I can't guarantee peace, or unity. I'm no Adun. But before this summer is out, all of Gaea will have heard of what happened at Sai Auia."
"Let us hope they act on it as you have," Takeru said quietly. "Because…strange as it sounds, we do need another Adun."
Suddenly, Ken slammed his fist into his palm in frustration. "They have to see the way! They must! Divided as we are, we can't hope to stand against Khaydarin's armies when they roll out of Akeldama! We'll all fall, one by one, as we're cornered, surrounded, and slaughtered…"
His voice dropped to a whisper. "And we stand at the gateway. Ichijouji guards the eastern seacoast. If the kingdoms won't listen, for all their futile bickering…there is no possible way we can hold the entire coast on our own…"
"It's a start, Ken," Kari said firmly. "The thousand mile journey starts with the first step."
"But he's right." Takeru was frowning in thought. "The Seihad is coming, and it will wait for no man. Time is short, and growing shorter by the day. A year? Two years? And once the Last Battle starts, there will be no turning back…"
Nobody said anything as the grim words settled in the room. Then Takeru looked up, his eyes gleaming. "Ken, we leave in a week's time. We have waited long enough as it is. I must see this pilgrimage through to the end."
Ken's eyes narrowed. "But your wound…"
"I'll survive," Takeru said curtly. "If the last Seihad is coming, then a week or two of discomfort is a small price to pay. In a week." His words rang with finality. "Even if you're not ready Ken, I intend to forge ahead in a week's time."
Ken took a deep breath. "All right," he said as he let it out slowly. "I'll see about arranging an escort and mounts…"
Kari shook her head. "No, no escort," she said emphatically.
"If this is some foolish turn of pride, drop it. We have no time for-"
"Ken, the most your country can spare right now is several hundred men. And no, don't lie to me. I've seen and heard too much," she added as the Prince opened his mouth to argue. "A hundred soldiers won't make much difference if we're attacked. Better to be few, and try to travel unseen."
Takeru nodded. "A hundred is too little, therefore too much," he agreed. "Six can go where a thousand cannot. And we can go much faster as well."
Ken stared at both of them, then nodded decisively as he stood up to leave. "A weeks' time, and no escort. I'll have both of you fitted for winter cloaks and coats immediately. It's going to be cold up in Ishida, especially since it'll be winter by the time we get there."
**********
And a weeks' time it was. Micah protested vehemently, but in the end, Ken overruled him completely. No escort, no guards. All troops were to retreat immediately back to Ichijouji and placed on defense while the entire nation was to be readied for all-out war. It was the most contradictory and dangerous orders to ever descend from the Ichijoujan throne.
But then, the Seihad was coming. If there was ever a time to abandon old ways, and take risks, it was now.
So the six rode alone. The only thing they brought with them were their weapons, their provisions, and heavy, oiled cloaks. Mounted on six horses that Ken had provided, they made their way along the edge of the coastline, heading ever northwards.
The days rolled by, and the land began to change yet again. Where there was once flat grassland and rolling meadows, the terrain became more hilly. Sometimes they passed through stands of mighty forests where some of the trees were older than the Age of Gods itself, traveling in silence through the loamy earth, and through the shadows of the leaves, just beginning to colour with fiery reds and oranges as autumn approached. Sometimes they passed along low hill ridges after miles of high meadows, where they could see the land for miles around. The sea always sparkled to the east of them, and small villages and towns could be seen, the smoke from their chimneys spiraling into the sky. Whenever they passed through one of the villages to spend the night, or stock up on provisions, Ken invariably pulled up the hood on his cloak to veil his face, and allowed the others to do the talking. He was still a prince in his own land, and they needed no more attention than was necessary.
However, when they were on the path away from farms and villages, Ken lowered the hood and rode normally. As they traveled farther and farther north, the villages became sparser, the towns dotting the countryside beginning to fade out. Here, near the northern provinces, only a few farmers and shepherds lived. The party traveled steadily at a ground-eating pace, pushing on until the light was almost entirely gone. More often than not, they were up and in the saddle hours before the sun's first rays touched the earth. And even though they were still in Ichijoujan territory, at least one stand-master was awake at all times, with his or her weapon close at hand. Yolei's longbow was always in evidence, and Kari helped Cody fashion a rough staff out of a strange jointed plant, which Ken called "bamboo".
Takeru and Kari took the traveling in stride without blinking. They were accustomed to travel, especially the long supply hauls from Broli to Kurtal in the past. Ken led them on with the sure knowledge of one born and raised in the nation. But the Taelidani were not at all accustomed to the forested terrain.
Davis growled as he slapped at his neck. His horse whinnied beneath him and tossed its head. "Damned mosquitoes. That's the fifth time! Gotcha you bloodsucker!"
Yolei stifled a laugh at the comical sight of the Taelidani slapping at the buzzing insects as he rode through the thick foliage. Kari, on a slender gelding mare leading at the front of the party of six, glanced back curiously. "The mosquitoes seem to like you Davis."
"Maybe it's 'cause his blood is sweeter," Cody chipped in mischievously from behind. "Or maybe it's 'cause he's not fast enough to chase them away."
Davis glared around. "Shut up," he growled. Keeping his hands perfectly still on the reins, he gazed intently at a particularly large insect hovering insolently mere inches from his face. For a moment, he held his breath, daring the mosquito to come in closer. Closer...
Then a brief flicker of red slashed the front of his face. The mosquito dropped like a rock, cut into two pieces. Davis turned to look at Cody sweetly. "You were saying?"
"You mean to tell me you've never encountered mosquitoes before?" Takeru said as he brought his horse trotting up alongside Davis' own. His side was still bandaged up underneath his tunic, but he did not seem to be pained by the swaying and bouncing of the saddle. "Back home in Kurtal, they came out in hordes during the summer."
"There are no mosquitoes in the desert," Yolei explained. "Far too extreme for them. Too hot in the day, and too cold at night. And there's not enough water for them to breed anyway."
It was undeniable that the three Taelidani were not used to traveling through the forest. Yolei and Cody seemed to be adapting well, but Davis was hopeless. It was not only the mosquitoes. Twice now, he had ridden his horse straight into muddy puddles, or driven it straight through thorny bushes. The mixed forest of deciduous and coniferous trees cast a cool, mottled shade of blue, gray and green on the leaf-covered dirt path. Even the air was different. It was slightly scented with the aroma of pine needles, and the slightest tang of salt. Every once in awhile, when they topped a hill, Kari could see the gleaming blue of the far-off ocean.
She looked around as they rode. "Where's Ken?" she said as she looked around.
"Right here," Ken's muffled voice said as he emerged from the woods to the right of the path on foot, leading his horse by the reins. In his hands he held some assorted herbs, apparently picked from the ground.
Kari gazed curiously at them. She raised her eyebrows quizzically. "What are those for?"
Ken stuffed the plants in his pocket and quickly mounted and rode to catch up with them. Then he carefully picked out several large leaves. Folding them several times, he placed them flat against his palm, and crushed the leaves between his hands until the poultice was utterly flat. White sap oozed out from the veins in the plant. "Here," he said as he handed it to Davis. "Allanda leaves. Put it on your bites. It'll help reduce the swelling."
Davis took the makeshift poultice, and stared at it doubtfully. Then he put the crushed leaf on a large bite on his arm. Ken handed him his handkerchief, and Davis tied the poultice onto his arm. In wonder, he flexed his limb.
"Hey, this stuff actually works!" he said in relief. "It doesn't sting nearly as much now." Then he gave Ken a strange glance, as if seeing the Prince in a new light. "How did a Royal Prince ever know something like that? I thought you always stayed in your palace. Royal business you know."
Ken smiled as he started to prepare another leaf. Once it was done, he handed it to Yolei, who took it gratefully. "This is my domain you're walking through. I've went on several hunting expeditions in the past. Mosquitoes are a big nuisance around these parts. They'll eat you alive if you let them."
Takeru looked interested. "You've gone on hunting trips before?"
Ken waved a hand. "Until I become King, I'm really nothing but a political figurehead. The kingdom can run itself without me." He smiled wistfully. "Micah always told me to enjoy it while I could, being Prince. Once I became King, everything would be different."
"Is that why you're able to join us?" Kari said.
The Ichijoujan Prince shrugged. "Yes," he said truthfully. "But even if I had been King, I would have come anyway. I'm not missing out on this quest if my life depended on it."
"Well," Cody said quietly, his eyes downcast. "I'm glad you feel that way, because it just might."
They all sobered a little at that, and for the next few hours, the six trekked on without saying a word. The going was fairly easy, with a slight sea breeze waving across their faces. The sea grew closer and closer, but Ken pointed them along an alternate route that began to lead north-east. And as they went, Takeru began to notice that the route became more and more hilly. They were steadily beginning to climb upwards, and the path gradually became more and more rocky.
Then several hours later, Ken stopped in his tracks. "You see that mountain?" he said as he pointed to their left. "That's Mt. Taishukan. And over there," he said as he pointed to a large, up-thrust cliff on their right, "that's the Fortress. A local name for the Ishidan cliffs."
Davis paused to stare at the twin mountains. They were actually quite beautiful. The late afternoon sun shimmered off the green forest that grew about a quarter of the way up the slopes. Above the tree-line, mighty gray rock thrust upwards, leaping to touch the sky. Blindingly white snow capped the summits. Their path led right between the two in a narrow pass. "Very pretty Ken," he said dryly. "But why are you showing us this?"
Ken adjusted the straps of his pack. "Those two mountains mark the border of Ichijouji and what used to be Ishida," he said. "The moment we go through this pass, we leave Ichijouji, and enter into what used to be Ishida. And to be honest, that kingdom, is now nothing but a restless battlefield between feuding warlords. There is no law, no justice, no government. In short, it's no man's land out there. There will be no one to save us if we get ourselves into trouble."
Ken gave Takeru a worried glance. "Some of warlords were former Lords and Knights of the Ishidan Kingdom, before it fell. And some of them will follow you, Takeru, if you showed them your stand, and convinced them of who you are. They are those who truly believe they are the way, that their ideas will bring somehow bring Ishida back. But then, there are far more who are simply power-hungry, seizing this opportunity to grab as much land, and as much of a following as possible. And Takeru, if you ever showed yourself, they might even try to kill you."
A somber silence descended upon the travelers at Ken's announcement. Then Cody surprised them all by hitching up his pack, and taking the first step onto the pass. His jaunty voice seemed out of place.
"Well, we came this far. And woe betide any villains that try to take advantage of this party of travelers..."
**********
As dusk began to fall, Takeru opted to pitch camp in a small wooded clearing not far from the path. Ken and Kari approved. It was a good site, sheltered by the forest, and with a small, clear stream running through it. Nestled in a little hollow in the land, the light of any fire they set would be shielded by high banks of earth, undetectable by distant eyes. Cody volunteered to unsaddle and hobble the horses, while everyone else set about making camp. Davis didn't particularly care, as long as he had a place to rest and nurse the long scratches on his shins left by thorns he had been forced to push through. "You'll get used to it," Yolei had tried to comfort him uselessly. "I actually rather like it here…"
One burning glare from the T'rakul was enough to silence her.
Dinner was a simple affair, some preserved provisions from their packs and some water from the stream. Some edible mushrooms that Kari found made a welcome addition. And as they ate, the dusk faded to full night. The first stars began appearing in the sky, and Yolei looked up at them curiously.
"You know, I wonder what those things are made of?" she wondered out loud.
Davis shrugged. He was a practical soul, and such far-off things as stars did not concern him. "Don't know. Who cares?"
Ken cocked his head back as he looked up. "Some of my kingdom's scientists have used telescopes to look at them," he said helpfully. "They think they're really burning orbs of gases like our sun, except so much farther off that they're a lot smaller, and a lot dimmer."
Cody seemed fascinated. "Really? I never knew that."
Kari stoked the fire with a piece of firewood. Her crimson eyes reflected the dancing flames like twin mirrors of amethyst. "Some people," she said, "look at them and see…burning orbs of gas like the sun." She glanced pointedly at Ken. "Some look at them and see…landmarks. Guides to faraway lands. Some see them as little lanterns that light up the night sky.
"Some, like me, see pictures. See?" she said as she pointed up. "There's the big dipper. There's Leo. There's the Great Bear. There's Orion…. I can go on and on."
Davis sighed. If they insisted on talking about stars, he might as well join in. "What about you Takeru? What do you see?" he said as he nudged the taciturn boy beside him.
Takeru jerked out of his torpor. "Me?" he asked, pointing at himself.
Davis rolled his eyes. "No. The blond guy named 'Takeru' sitting next to you."
Takeru smiled at his friend's attempt at humour, but did not laugh. He was no longer the care-free, easy going mountain boy of one year ago. Not even the wanderer he had been a mere month ago. Ever since his brother's revelation, he had withdrawn into himself, becoming more taciturn and quiet. He supposed Davis was only trying to draw him out of his shell.
So he looked up obligingly. "Stars?" he said. "I see…a mystery. Fantasy. They're so far off, yet so beautiful. They promise so much, yet they're so quiet. Why did God put them up there? Why in that particular order? Is there any meaning to their arrangement?
"You know, it occured to me one night, just looking up at them, how very petty our struggles are here on earth. The ages come and go, wars and battles are waged a hundred times for the same reasons over and over again. Yet they are always there, shining down on us. Did it ever occur to you that Adun also saw the exact same stars, five hundred years ago? Compared to them, five hundred years suddenly seems so...short."
Yolei looked at Takeru strangely. "You know, I never pegged you as the fantasizing type."
Kari snorted and almost choked on the piece of bread she was chewing. "Why, back home, TK spent hours flat on his back every night. He'd just lie there and watch the stars, tracing them with his finger, trying to connect the dots."
Takeru looked insulted. "Well, you were connecting the dots right there beside me, so I wouldn't talk."
"Really?" Cody said. "Tell me, do you two believe in legends?"
Takeru and Kari looked at one another. "Legends?" Takeru said. "I suppose I'll have to now that Adun seems to have mapped out my life five hundred years before I was born…"
"I think what the kid means," Ken said gently, "is do you really believe it with your heart. We all intellectually acknowledge that there are things in this world you can't touch, can't feel, and can never fully understand. But do you really believe with your heart?"
Kari shrugged. "I guess I do," she said. "After all, if I'm fool enough to believe in God's inheritance, I'm fool enough to believe in legends."
Ken stared into the campfire. "Then do you believe in the legend of the 'Tenken'?"
A sober silence fell over the gathered travelers. But Cody stared around in confusion. "The 'Tenken'?"
Ken looked at him. "You might not be familiar with this one, or you might have a different name for it, seeing as you come from the desert. And you were born after that particular myth was exposed. So I guess it's only natural you wouldn't know. People try not to talk about it anymore."
Kari explained for Cody. "The 'Tenken' is an old, old legend, dating far back. Even beyond the Aeon of Strife. Literally translated in the old language, it means "Heaven's Sword". For as long as people can remember, it's always been passed down by word of mouth, and some obscure, holy scriptures. You see, the Tenken was supposed to be an event, be it natural or unnatural that would mark the end of the old world, and the start of the new. Some say it's God's promise to us that one day in the future, all the evil in this world would be purged. There would be no war, no fighting, no sadness and no tears…"
Cody scratched his head. "Sounds like wishful thinking to me."
Takeru took up the thread of conversation as he adjusted the cloak around his shoulder's. It was getting chilly. "A lot of people hailed Adun as the 'Tenken'," he remarked offhandedly. "After all, think about it. He was the one who ended generations of warfare, and ushered in an era of unparalleled peace. It was only natural."
The dark-haired Taelidani boy tilted his head. "And wasn't he?"
Davis shook his head in an amused manner. "No he wasn't. The peace ushered in by the Tenken was supposed to be eternal, Cody. Never-ending." His voice turned slightly bitter. "Well, it kind of became obvious that Adun was not the Tenken fifteen years ago, don't you think?"
Takeru sighed. "I don't pretend to know God's plan. Perhaps the coming Seihad is in some way related to the Tenken. Or it could be just the next in a series of wars, each more devastating than the last. Will we be like Adun, forging a temporary respite of peace before Gaea tears herself apart again? Who knows? But I know this. If God promised it, then it's going to happen. Either we'll make it happen, or someone else will, hundreds, perhaps thousands of years from now. For now, all I can do is follow, and trust."
Kari put a hand on his shoulder. "TK, you know what? We could use a little more of that faith nowadays."
A short silence fell over the travelers as the campfire began to fade. Ken looked around at his companions in the flickering light. "What's it like?" he asked. "To…to wander from place to place. Without roots. Without a home."
Yolei considered the question. "It's…free," she said at last. "I've been born a wanderer. I can't imagine ever staying in one place for any length of time. It's hard, yes. Dangerous, perhaps. But you see so much, do so much…"
"What about you?" Ken asked Takeru and Kari.
Kari shrugged. "Wandering is freedom," she agreed. "But it's a hard life Ken. You're lucky, being born into a Royal palace." Her gaze turned wistful. "I remember when I used to put down roots. To stay in one place until you feel as if you know it better than the back of your hand. If I had a choice," she looked at Takeru, and the boy nodded. "I would choose to put down roots again," she finished.
Ken smiled. "Perhaps you will have that choice. Sometime in the future, when your wandering days are over."
"If I ever get a choice," Kari said as she leaned back, his eyes staring off into space. "I'd…choose someplace in the mountains. Somewhere sheltered. Who knows? Maybe when this is all over, I'll go back to the Novinha mountain ranges. Not Kurtal. But maybe Broli."
Davis held up his hands. "No roots for me," he said. "I like my freedom, and I like my wandering, thank you."
Yolei laughed. "What about you Takeru?" she asked the boy. "What would you need to make it home?"
Takeru leaned back as he stared off into space. "Home?" he said. "I think I'll go with Kari. Someplace in the mountains, perhaps even in Ishida. And the first thing I'd do," he added. "Is plant a sakura tree."
Ken arched his eyebrow. "A sakura tree?"
The blond boy looked embarrassed as he shrugged. "Yes," he said. "There was one right outside my farm in Kurtal. A big huge one. Remember, Kari?" The girl nodded, and motioned for Takeru to continue. He did. "The old tree was probably burned down, but I…I still have a couple of the seeds in my cloak's pocket. Seeds from that same tree. Call me crazy, but I guess it won't be home until I plant those seeds."
A pensive silence descended after the blond boy's simple statement. Then Davis reached behind him and pulled out another log, which he tossed onto the blaze. The dry wood crackled as it was consumed. "Well," he announced, "I think I'm going to bed. We'll need the rest. Who'll take first watch?"
Takeru raised his hand. "I'll do it."
Ken and Kari raised their hands at the same time, but Ken beat the girl to it. "I'll do the second shift," he announced.
Kari gave him a mock glare as she lowered her hand. "Then I'll take third."
"Good." Davis rolled over in his cloak, not even bothering to take out the blanket Ken had given him before they left. "I'll do first shift tomorrow night. See you in the morning."
**********
Several hours later, when darkness had completely fallen, Cody wasn't quite sure what woke him up. Perhaps it was simply that he was unused to the forest noises. Every once in awhile, the faint hooting of an owl, or the chirping of a cricket or cicada sounded out through the darkness. Perhaps one of those had woken him up.
The little boy groaned as he sat up. The campfire had burned itself out into glowing embers, and all of his friends were asleep, scattered throughout the clearing. Cody ran a hand through his tousled dark hair as he looked around. Then he got to his feet, and staggered over to the stream. Perhaps some water would do him good.
The desert boy was still trying to get used to the novelty of having water washing out of the ground whenever he needed it. In the desert, oases were few and far between, and wells were hard to come by. But here, just inside the southern border of Ishida, the land was criss-crossed with freshwater streams and springs. He dipped his hands into the clean water, and splashed his face, trying to wake up fully. He knew he would never be able to fall asleep again. He didn't know. Maybe he'd offer to take the second shift for Ken when the Ichijoujan Prince woke up.
But as he turned his head back to look at the camp, he frowned. There was something missing. What was it? Carefully, he counted the people sleeping. Kari was there. So was Davis, Yolei and Ken. Counting himself, that made five.
Where was Takeru? Hadn't he offered to take first shift?
Cody dried his face off with his shirt, then walked softly back into the camp. He tread softly so as not to disturb the others, but his eyes never stopped roving. Where was Takeru? Cody tried to push the worry away as he kept looking. It was unlike the blond prince to wander off on watch.
Then a small whisper of wind caught his ear. Turning in that direction, he saw a few small flashes of silver flickering in the moonlight, farther upstream. Cody strained his eyes, but could see nothing through the darkness. Carefully, he picked up his bamboo staff and stole through the bushes to see what the movement was about. As he sliced his way soundlessly through the underbrush and knee-high grass, he reached the very edge of the clearing. And when he emerged from the vegetation, his breath caught in his throat.
In the small clearing, Takeru was undergoing a peculiar set of movements, his limbs moving with a fluid, dangerous grace. By the light of the moon, his light blond hair was dyed a gleaming white, his body a dark silhouette, dancing to some unheard rhythm. The blond boy's katana was held in his right hand, the steel blade gleaming with star-fire, moving slowly with precise rhythm and timing. The graceful arcs of liquid light mesmerized Cody with its strange patterns. Figure eights, crescents, circles, ovals…the blade inscribed all these and more into the still night air.
The slow but graceful movements, and the sinuous way the boy's body moved with his blade made the katana seem like a natural extension of Takeru's arm. The tempo seemed to be increasing and decreasing in a maddeningly complex rhythm. Sometimes, Takeru didn't seem to be moving at all, standing stock still for seconds on end. Sometimes, he launched himself into a series of vigorous slashes and thrusts, the sword-tip humming like a hornet through the air. No movement was wasted, each footfall sure and precise.
Cody forgot to breathe as he watched the sword-master dance. The waving blade hypnotized him until he couldn't tear his eyes away. Something about the smooth, sure way Takeru moved made him feel awkward, clumsy and hideously uncoordinated. He had never seen anything like it. Davis and Yolei at their best had never been able to do something like this. Never so gracefully, and certainly never so beautifully.
Suddenly, Takeru launched himself into a sideways leap, barrel-rolling through the air at a crazy angle, his head being lower than his feet. Still rolling sideways in mid-air, his sword-tip slashed out. And for a moment, a silver nimbus seemed to surrounded the prince's spinning body, catching the light of the moon and turning it into an aura of white fire. It was over in a heartbeat, and Takeru miraculously managed to land upright, dragging his feet to disperse the momentum. The tempo of the exercise slowed, until the sword tip danced lazily through the air, finally coming to rest pointing forward at an unseen enemy, the hilt held in both hands.
Abruptly, Takeru lowered his sword, digging the point into the dirt. His body seemed to slump as if from exhaustion as he leaned heavily on the hilt. In the moonlight, Cody could see a thin sheen of sweat across the blond boy's forehead.
"What is it, Cody?" Takeru said suddenly, still leaning on the sword and looking at the ground. "Did I wake you?"
Cody nearly leapt out of his skin. "I...You knew I was here?"
Takeru slowly pulled himself upright, and sheathed his sword. He did not fasten the sheath to his belt. "I would be a pretty useless guard if I couldn't sense someone less than twenty paces away, Cody."
Cody furrowed his forehead. He thought he had been pretty quiet. "I...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you. You didn't wake me, I just...couldn't sleep."
"I see."
The younger boy stared at the sheathed sword that Takeru was leaning on. The Ishidan crest was obscured by the scabbard now, but the moonlight still gleamed off the hilt. "What were you doing back there? It almost looked like a dance."
"Tai-Dan, twenty-sixth kata," Takeru said, raising an eyebrow. "A sword-master's exercise in Kenjitsu. This particular one has one hundred and thirty-eight movements."
"Tai-Dan?"
"Mastery of Tai-Dan, all one hundred katas, or around nine thousand movements, is one of the requirements for a sword-master to be named such. Theoretically, it's 'supposed to strengthen the bonds between one's body, and one's spirit'. It's a calming exercise." In the moonlight, Cody saw Takeru's teeth flash white in an amused smile. "Practically speaking? If nothing else, I think it's a damned good workout."
Cody shook his head. "T'rakul Davis never learned anything like that. Neither did Yolei. They learned from the older warriors, from word-of-mouth, or trial-and-error. We Taelidani don't have a formal martial arts, and we certainly don't invent katas."
"Pity," Takeru mused. "Davis and Yolei are exceptional to have mastered their weapons so well without the aid of standardized forms and katas. It makes it twice as difficult."
"Who did you learn from?"
In the dark, it was hard to tell, but it looked like Takeru's smile was tinged with sadness. "From Vargas, of course. A better swordsman than I can ever hope to be."
Cody fell silent, still staring at the sword. Then he glanced at his own staff. "Can...can you teach me?" he said quickly. He cursed himself for how very awkward he sounded, but he pushed on doggedly. "How to fight, that is. I want to learn..."
He trailed awkwardly off under Takeru's silent stare. The blond boy lifted his eyebrows as he looked at Cody carefully, his gaze seeming to all but penetrate the young boy. Unconsciously, Cody straightened up a little, the grip on his staff becoming tighter.
"You wish to be my apprentice?" Takeru said, his voice suddenly serious. There was no smile on his face anymore.
"I do."
"I know some things about fighting with a staff," Takeru said finally. "But why do you want to learn, Cody?"
Cody stared at the ground. "All of you are so far ahead of me. So much stronger, so much surer. You always seem to know what to do. If I'm a stand-master, I want to catch up. I want to pull my weight. Sometimes, I...I feel so useless..."
"Not good enough."
The younger boy dug the point of his staff into the ground as he pondered his next words. "Remember when you found me, Takeru?" he said carefully. "My entire caravan was killed by desert bandits, including my mother and my sister. I was not strong enough then, to protect them. And I still am not."
Cody swung a hand to indicate their surroundings. "But how is this world different? Are they not deserving of protection either? Am I to watch helplessly as Gaea is torn apart? I want to learn, Takeru, so I can have the strength to protect and defend what I love. So what happened that night will never happen again if I can help it."
"Someone once said to me," Takeru intoned, "that true strength does not come from mastery of a weapon. A weapon by itself only gives you the power to hurt, not to protect. Your stand has tremendous power, far more than anyone else can dream of. But that too will only give you the power to hurt if you do not master it."
"How will I become strong," Cody protested, "if I do not learn? How can I protect others, when I cannot protect myself?"
Takeru's eyes caught the moonlight, shining a strange silver-blue hue. His words were quiet and calm. "Cody, strength comes from within, and I cannot teach you to be strong. The weapon only comes alive when its master wields it. And as such, it is only as good, or as evil as its master. A sword can be used for great good, or for great evil."
Cody shook his head. "You speak in riddles, Takeru."
Takeru pondered his next words for a few moments in silence. When he spoke again, his voice was carefully neutral. "I can equip you, and make you one of the greatest warriors in Gaea. You have the potential. But with power, comes temptation to abuse it. Power is an addictive drug, Cody, and you may well find yourself becoming the very thing you wish to protect others against." Takeru tilted his head. "Do you think you're strong enough to resist it?"
"I only want to do my part," Cody said softly. "I am a stand-master, I have a role in the fate of this land. And Takeru, I want to be prepared. I do not want to kill, but I do not want to die either." He hefted his staff, and held it up for Takeru to see. "But I swear this. The day I get used to killing with this weapon, is the day I will throw it away. I will use it only for defense of the weak, and the unity of Gaea."
"I will hold you to that oath, with my sword if need be," Takeru said softly. "Do not think that because you are a stand-master, you are above such temptations."
Cody's returning gaze was firm. "May God Himself strike me down if I ever break it."
Takeru shook his head, a small smile on his lips. "Would that all people were as sure as you," he said wistfully. He glanced at Cody. "The oath you have just sworn, it is required of all Ishidan knights. Vargas made me swear it before I ever began training. And I in turn, made Kari swear it before I taught her anything. Interesting how you came up with it word for word by yourself, no?"
Cody's mouth suddenly felt dry. His heart skipped a beat. I did what?!
But Takeru only held out his hand.
"Come then, apprentice. I will teach you what you desire to learn."
"The stand-masters were powerful because they had stands. But the true strength of the Stand-Masters did not lie in the steel of their swords or the bite of their blades. Instead, it came in their courage, it grew with their compassion, and it was tempered by their wisdom. It was rooted in their steadfast hope for an Age of Peace and their unassailable belief in the Good of Men. That was their strength."
- unknown historian, cc. 200 AS. Chronicles of Gaea
**Author's notes:
First off, I'd like to give a big thank you to Dreamwalker. More so than usual. You see that quote up there, from the "unknown historian"? That came from him. Word for word. ^_^ Couldn't take all the credit.
Hope you enjoyed the Takari. I certainly had fun making Ken barge in on them at exactly the wrong moment. *grins sheepishly* I was reading a really good Harry Potter fic, "After the End" by Sugar Quill, and just suddenly got inspired to stick in some sap. 'Sides, Dreamwalker was urging me to. With the possible (but unlikely) exception of chapter nine, it will not get quite this sappy again for a LONG time. On that note, there probably won't be any other romances. No Kenyako, or Daiyako, etc. (if there is, it'll be just very minor hints). There MIGHT be some interesting friendship pairings though, like Kari and Cody. *shrugs* I've never seen it done before, come to think about it…
On another note, what's with everyone's sudden obsession with daisuke? Sure I like the guy, but I certainly did not purposely try to portray him to be incredible. Not any more incredible than everyone else, that is. But now everyone's commenting on how they love how I'm portraying him! *shrugs* Sure, if you want. Just struck me as kind of weird.