Disclaimer: Tenchi Muyo! And all its' characters belong to Pioneer. Note that this disclaimer accounts for all the chapters, all of them.
I was taken out of my true self.
I was a spirit and knew…
the secrets of nature,
bird flight,
star wanderings,
and the way the fish glide.
-Merlin, quoted in Geoffrey Monmouth's
Twelfth-century book VITA MERLINI-
The world from which the stories came
Lies still within the astral mists…
-W.B. Yeats-
He that made with his hond
Wynd and water, wode and lond;
Geve heom alle good endying
That wolon listne this talkying,
A y schal telle, yow byfore,
How Merlyn was geten and bore
And of his wisdoms also
And other happes mony mo
Sum whyle befeol in Engelonde.
-From the thirteenth-century ballad
OF ARTHOUR AND OF MERLIN-Author's Notes: Okay, I'm going to try very hard on editing properly, so the chapters may take a day longer to post than usual because I can't notice my mistakes until I read it again the next day. Also, the word 'Matron' is not stolen from FFVIII, yes the game helped me in coming by the word, but here are the definitions straight from the dictionary:
(1) A married woman or widow, esp. one who has a mature appearance and matter
(2) A woman superintendent or manager of the domestic arrangements of a hospital, prison, or other institution
(3) A woman attendant or guard in charge of women or children, as in an institution.
So you see? I'll be using the name 'Matron' for the abbey Washu goes to, but feel free to correct me if I'm wrong about the meaning, which I assume means a mother in an orphanage, right? Yet again, feel perfectly free to correct me in some categories. At the end of the story (which won't be for a really, long time, I'll be putting up acknowledgements and thank-you's to people who are helping me through the research or are just plain reading. Anyways, I'll be hoping that the people who aren't reviewing but are reading are enjoying the fiction, and I'm trying hard not to be a bore with it. I get the Greek Legends of Zeus and all from 'Daulaires' Book of Greek Myths' it's a very good book, and the drawings in it are superb, one of the best myth books I've seen yet.
-Chapter One- Stormy Skies
The storm was rapidly clearing, that much she could tell from her position by the window. Sun rays broke through the chains the cloudy sky had held them in for two weeks, casting a soft warm light on the woman's face. She lifted her hand and brushed the strands of black hair behind her ears, smiling a half-smile while wondering how long it had been since she felt the sun's warm gaze. "Too long," she muttered half-heartedly, standing up at a medium pace as to not have the blood rushing from her head. The room she was in was plain, a simple bed in the far corner, and a red carpet on the thinly carpeted floor. The woman stretched, her arms nearly reaching the ceiling had it not been for her weak leg. Nothing was wrong with it; she could lean on it and run if she wanted to, but too much weight on it for too long caused it to cramp up and be totally useless for hours. Closing the oak shudder, though opening the blinds so the sun could bathe the room with its' glow, she moved to the heavy door and walked through, leaving it half-open for easy passage later.
Servants were madly rushing everywhere, tending to small children crying over spilt milk or other. The hallways were nicely kept, round and simple with concrete, a few bulletin boards here and there for the children to post their arts of work. The girls were usually the ones posting their flower pictures; the boys just had blue scribbles that meant nothing to anyone but the person who drew it.
"Matron! Matron!" shouted one of the servants, rushing idly to her. Her brown hair was tousled; it looked like she had run the two hundred meter race five times in a row. "What is it, Ji?" the Matron asked back, worried at how much exertion was worth with the way Ji looked. "In…the village," she gasped, gulping in large gulps of air to continue her message, "A little girl…floating…she's so small, Matron…" the servant said, kneeling onto the ground and clutching her abs, "Go…see it…yourself…she's so small…" the abbey owner knelt down, careful not to put too much weight on her left leg, she patted Ji's back, "Thank you, I'll go right away."
"The storm…ripped apart…she flew through the clouds! The clouds…parted…for her passage…so small, so small…" the girl curled up into a ball, clutching her knees to her chest tightly, repeating how small she was many times.
Matron stood up and ran down the hallways, passing many children crying because the rain stopped, or the sun was scaring them. They were all orphans; all abandoned when they were babies, and didn't know much about the world except terror. She burst through the thick front door and rushed to the village.
It was small, just little shacks, shops, and privies; the townspeople couldn't afford much. They farmed; a windmill was nearby pumping water as she jogged. The paved streets cool touch reached the bottoms of her feet as her thin boots clapped against the stone. "Make way for Matron!" one of the people shouted, spotting her. The crowd was large; almost all of the villagers were surrounding a little girl levitating some ten feet off the ground, three little dots glowing frantically on her tiny forehead. Her purple robes seemed a size too big on her, but her brilliant red hair was long enough to make it look like it fitted her body just fine, it was so long. She was unconscious, or maybe just sleeping, nothing seemed to be wrong with her except that she was defying gravity.
Ji was right, she was small, even if she was only three years old; she, the little girl, was extremely small for her age. "Get her down! The storm may come back!" shouted an old feeble man, swinging his cane at the small toddler. "Be quiet old man! Matron has something to say!" hollered another woman. All eyes turned on the abbey's owner. Blinking a couple of times in frustration, she stated in a calm voice, "Get her down, and ask around to see if anyone's missing a child."
The crowd all hummed in disappointment, but one man lifted another and was able to pull the girl down with little resistance. "Bring her to me," she commanded, and watched as the young man laid the small girl in front of her. The three glowing dots on the girl's forehead were dulling into a soft buzz, but other than that there was no activity flowing through her. 'Poor girl…' Matron thought to herself, fingering the child's neck for a pulse. "She's alive…just not breathing well, I'll go take her to the doctor, you people keep looking for her parents,"
'If she has any…' she said behind their backs.
The man nodded and went into the abyss of people rushing around, asking friends who might know friends, and friends asking friends who know other friends. Matron knelt over and lifted the girl up carefully, trying not to disturb her peaceful slumber. The abbey owner looked around herself, searching for the healing center, probably the only rich and good-looking place in the village besides the orphanage itself. Cradling her, the girl weighed nothing in Matron's strong arms, her long red hair falling betwixt her left hand's fingers. Walking around slowly, as to not disturb her weaker leg, the woman made herself get used to the lopsided feeling of only truly putting her weight on one foot with a child in her arms. The villagers moved, giving her easy passage through the small crowd. The wind was nice, giving the owner a gentle breeze of cool air from the body-heat everyone was making by rushing around. Spotting the building, which were in itself about five stories high, Matron tried to ignore the cramps getting little by little worse with each step.
People still made way; after all, she was one of the most respected in the small town. The girl didn't flinch once when the woman stumbled slightly, some young man or woman catching her before she went totally off balance. Everyone knew of her legs' disability to go long distances, so one was almost always by her to catch the abbey owner. The pavement gradually turned into soft grass that tickled the bares of her feet when they tapped the ground. The building was made of brick, cement and mud mixed together to make a stiff walling, and it had been up for more than a century without even the slightest bit of damage. Of course, the people took shifts and all helped to clean up the village everyday. The orphans themselves, when they were of age and weren't so terrified, made themselves useful and gardened and watered the plants. They were rarely adopted, though few had long gone years ago by some would-be parents that wanted a child badly.
Shrugging it off, Matron pushed into the door and walked inside, making a quick bow of respect to the child guarding the door. The inside was very much like the out, the ground was made of dirt, flowers sprouting here and there and a soft layer of grass on the whole thing. They, the townspeople, thought that having nature grow inside a house was good luck or fortune, and so cat-claws crawled up the brick wall. The building would've been made of sticks and mud, but the people a century ago weren't that stupid, they needed a sturdy building and so they used the brick, but made sure that mud was used in the making.
"Yes?" a woman asked, facing her from sitting on an old stump in the corner, five chairs hand-carved lined each side of the room, each with a little leaf shape with intricate designs of veins in it, a sign of thanks to the dead tree. Matron leaned onto a wall and rested all her weight onto her right leg, giving her other weaker one a chance to recuperate. "May you check on this girl?" the abbey owner asked in a polite voice, sitting down in the oak chair. Noting the girl with little interest, the young woman nodded and called out for Grandfather, whom was the elder of the village and was highly respected, though not overly. Many of the people thought themselves as equals, and only thought one higher than another if they were wise, noble, and weren't afraid to lead their own life, not follow in another's footsteps for an easier way out.
An old man walked into the room, using an oak cane (of which also had a small leaf shape carved on it), and though the wrinkles of age shone, his body had denied the age and he was able to act as though he were a middle-aged man, not the feeble one he had grown to be. "What is it, Lan?" he asked in a raspy tone, as though he had used it too often. The woman sitting in the corner was startled by the question, jumping in her seat, though tried hard to conceal her mistake. "Matron would like you to look at that girl, Grandfather," Lan stated, composing herself cleverly and went back staring into space, meditating.
The old man looked back at the owner of the abbey and held out his hand for support, lifting the middle-aged woman and helping with the girl probably no older than three in her arms. "Come with me," he said in a serene voice, touching the girl's forehead with two fingers before walking into the room he was previously in, the soft dirt padding his footsteps. Matron followed, pausing every few moments to rest, 'Blast this leg…' she though to herself, finally making way into a slightly bigger room with a tree planted by a wooden bed (of which had a more intricate carving of a leaf on the corner) with leaves covering the whole top to serve as a mattress, a pillow weaved out of thin branches and stuffed with spongy leaves that were dead, but had the softness of being alive. "Sit," Grandfather said politely, motioning towards a stump by the bed. Inwardly thanking the heavens, Matron stepped over to the bed and set the little girl down, and then finally taking a seat herself.
The roof was made from vines, the villagers had planted cats claws vines over a century ago on all side, keeping a good account that it should not get in the way of the door, and so the building made of brick looked more like a building made entirely of vines. Sunlight broke through the so-called canopy and warmed the room gradually, which of course smelled like rain for it had sprinkled and poured for two weeks. The Grandfather was seated across from the abbey owner, eyeing both the girl and the woman with a growing interest. "So tell me the story," he stated cheerfully, leaning his chin onto his cane and staring at Matron with dark brown eyes.
The woman complied, and told him all her knew up to the present point, and the old man listened without intervening once. The girl on the bed did not fidget once, the three glowing spots on her forehead were gone except for the small circles that shown faintly, one would not notice then if they were just talking casually to her. Nothing was going on in her mind; her breathing was in short patterns and came not very often, her heartbeat reduced to reluctant beating, as if she had given up the will to live and her body was listening to her will. But if it weren't so painstakingly impossible to believe, that's what they would have assumed, but given the look of her age, they were both forced to admit that it couldn't be, such a small girl did not have a care in the world for life or death. In fact, she probably didn't even know what death was, being only a toddler at most.
"Is there anything you can do?" Matron asked, finally turning her head so she looked at the unconscious girl, watching her chest rise and fall faintly. Grandfather was silent for a few minutes, and then answered in the same calm voice, "I'll do what I can, I'll send for you if I make any progress, Ellen." Nodding, the woman stood up and made a bow to him, turning briskly around and walking into the room where Lan was meditating, though she held the position where she must've fallen asleep.
Waiting for Ellen to leave, and smiling when he heard the creaking of the door click as it hit the brick wall, the old man turned his attention to the small girl on the bed. He did not take pity on her, however. Kanemitsins tend to think that if you pity one who has ill fortune or died for no particular reason, is to pity the will of the goddess', and they though they would be severely punished for wanting to change their course of fate. Grandfather stood up, leaning onto his cane and stepping to the girl with vibrant red hair. Making his way so he was closer to the side, he stooped over and examined the girl's face closely, taking what information he could by looking at her features.
Standing erect once more, he muttered aloud, "Three years old. No parents; no past. So…she is a gift from the gods. She will do well if raised in the abbey," he knew every person in the town by heart, whether he only saw them once as a baby, he would recognize them if he saw them fifty years later, just by looking at their eyes. "My, my, my… Little one, you are going to have a rough life, I give you my blessing and prayers that you'll live long and peaceful."
***
Ellen made her way back to the orphanage, where children were now running around, playing, or finishing up their day's chores. When they saw her approach, almost all of them, especially the small ones, came running up to her and hugging her fiercely; some of them showing her a new trick. "Story!" cried one small boy, jumping up and down and trying to voice his favorite story title above the other kid's that were now begging for one. "Settle down, children," she stated calmly, and they all complied, eager eyes staring at her with a fiery hope. "Well, now," Matron said, smiling, "Zeus?"
Many of the boys nodded, a majority of the girls smiled and nodded, closing their eyes and pretending to be riding in Zeus's chariot, riding through the stars. "I'll take that as a yes, those who are still awake after, I will tell another,"
"Yaaayyy!" shouted several, quickly grabbing a water bottle and sitting down around a chair that was worn from several years of use. Ellen smiled as more children and even a couple of maids rushed out of the abbey to join the growing group.
"Shall I start with the birth of the planet?" Matron asked.
"Yes! Yes!" was the answer.
Grinning, the abbey owner began, and all was silent except for a few footsteps of some villagers who wanted to hear the story as well. "Once upon a time…"
A few hours later she finished the story, receiving hugs from children who were still awake, and quiet applause from the adults who chose to listen. Most of the adults had been raised in the abbey, and were fond of returning to hear the storytelling of the owner, though she had been the owner for many years, even before the adults great-grandfather might've been born. All of the smaller one's were sound asleep, leaning onto one another for warmth and pillowing, smiling in their sleep because they might be watching the story take shape in their dream. Many villagers helped by bringing the sleeping children blankets, and then sat down for the other story she had promised, all of them liked sleeping outside when Ellen told her stories and the weather was at peace with them.
"You choose, Mother," a young girl asked, looking no older than thirteen. A boy around fifteen nodded, pulling his blanket tighter around himself, warming up his cold limbs. A maid tended to twins that were shivering, both trying to share the blanket evenly, but ending up in pulling it too far one way or another. "Well…" Matron began, cupping her chin in deep thought, "How about Coronus?" many of them nodded, the few who did not were either half-asleep, or trying hard to stay up and listen. "All right, I will start with the birth of the Titans…"
Everyone was asleep before she was halfway through the story.
"Splendid," came a new voice, as soon as she had finished her tale, no matter what the consequence, she never left a story half-told or unfinished. "Thank you, Grandfather," she returned in response, rising to her feet and giving him a respectful bow. "No need for that, Ellen, I came to listen to your story, it calms my heart to hear them," he, the Grandfather, had raised her himself when he found her in the streets. Though that was so long ago both of them faintly remembered, but the old man remembered clearly what she had looked like that day. "Is she all right?" Ellen asked, no one but him called her that anymore. Nodding, he replied, laying down a blanket he had brought with him onto a young girl shivering in a ball, "Yes, she is all right. She's just unconscious, but there's no health problem whatsoever in her, she's never been sick. She's three years old; she has no parents…she just appeared. Those gems she has are just gems, there's nothing special that I can see in them, mentally nor physically.
"The eye color she has, it's an emerald green; I've never seen one to have such a bright pink hair color also. She's not awake yet, but if we wait for awhile, I'm sure the gods will let her experience the world, like us."
Matron smiled, "That's good, for a moment I thought she was going to be an unhealthy girl," she knelt down and patted a toddler's back, whom was clutching a bear he had been found with. "If no one in the village will adopt her, I'll be glad to take her in, Grandfather."
The old man leaned onto his cane and seemed to be in deep thought, and then added jokingly, "Lan was very embarrassed to find out she had fallen asleep while meditating. Ah, here she is," he said, and pointed his wooden cane to a woman sleeping soundly by a tree, smiling in her sleep. "It's been awhile since I had a crown this big…" Ellen muttered, looking around herself to see how many there were actually. "Fifty-six, to be exact, don't worry, I counted. It's been a while since you've told a story that the whole village has come to love," the Grandfather said, staring back at Matron.
"I know…" Ellen said sadly, looking at the old man once more. "My I see her in the morning? It's not in my mind to leave the children alone, so if you may, I am asking if I can see her,"
"You may, I doubt I could stop you anyway, " he added with a chuckle, grinning.
"Well, it is late, I'll be going to sleep now. Goodnight, Grandfather," she said, laying down on the ground, using her arm for a pillow.
"Let the gods allow you to have a restful slumber, Ellen," he added, turning around and walking to the healing house.
***
The girl still lay on the bed undisturbed, not moved an inch since Matron brought her there. A quiet breeze ruffled some stray spiky hair, swaying it in the wind. Her breathing was coming in more, her chest rising and falling more casually now. Still nothing was in her head, but now her eyes fidgeted behind her lids, as if searching for something. The dots on her head were gone now, and yet the three orbs in her pocket were a mystery still to the old man. So round and perfect, human hands couldn't have made it; it was too perfect for that. There was no flaw in the orb, and the red coloring was darker than any ruby he had ever seen. He then assumed that they must've been forged by the gods, he trusted their will; and did not question why they were there.
Her green eyes had startled him when he opened her lid to see them, so pretty; he'd seen green eyes before, but never this emerald shade. The one's he had seen were tinted with ember towards the pupil, and the shade was darker than the one this girl had. The Grandfather hadn't lied when he said she was perfectly healthy, or when she had never been sick. He had left her company, confident in knowing that no one could get into the room without his help, tying a knot in the ropes that held the door shut, and then locking it with a branch that only he could open.
The moonlight passed deftly through, shining the girl's face and making her face seem even more peaceful than it actually was. Her purple robes were wrapped tightly enough around her body to make sure they didn't fall off, but a sharp tug could snatch it off if one wanted to. Flower petals were sprinkled all around her, red in color, and one candle shining brightly a short distance away, far enough from vegetation to not cause a fire. These were meant to help her through the void of death, but not too much, if the gods chose that it was time for her to die, it was her time.
Days went by, and still no sign of her waking up. Ellen visited on a regular basis, wanting to be there when she woke up. Some villagers went to send her their prayers too, but not many. One day a mere child walked in and sat next to her for almost three hours, saying nothing, just watching her the entire time, no one intervened, for among their people it was exceedingly rude to enter in on another sitting with the sick or the wounded. The boy was only eight, but was only four mentally. His parents had abandoned him when an animal charged at them, he still had a scar where the animals' claws scratched his arm, and he was lucky to have some people roaming around find him in time. Shortly after he left, Matron entered once again.
"Any idea on when she'll wake up?" she asked, she always did, but the old man was polite and didn't tell her the same answer twice.
"By Tsunami I don't, the gods will decide," the answer was always in some form like that, not wanting to put down her spirits by saying the same thing over and over.
Her storytelling had been more depressing one's each night. One she had told the tale of Branwen, and one other tale that was so sad there was not one dry eye in the audience when she was finished. The incense he burned was filling the room with a smoky odor, but an odor that smelled nice to him and to the people who entered his room. "Today's the day, I know it. I had a dream last night that she awoke, an-oh my god."
Startled at her pause, the Grandfather turned around to see two emerald eyes from the girl. Ellen nearly fainted, but thanked the gods and walked over to the small toddler, whom had not moved but her eyes were staring upward, not taking notice of anything going on around her. "You are awake," the abbey owner said tearfully, smiling at the small girl, though she noticed that the toddler wasn't paying her any heed. The Grandfather walked over and stood next Matron, also smiling down at the girl.
"What should we name her?" Ellen asked, holding the girl's hand in a gentle grip.
"We? I think the village should name her; after all, she is a gift from above. Or maybe she knows what her name is, how about it?" Grandfather returned, starting to get immensely curious as to why the girl was not moving at all.
"Yes…you are right, as always," she said, giving the hand a soft squeeze to try and alert the girl's attention. Still she did nothing. "Perhaps she can't move yet?" Ellen asked, trying to figure it out also. "No…let me try something," the old man said quietly, and reached his hand over the toddler's head; and snapped. The girl blinked immediately, her breaths coming in more quickly, her hand suddenly gripping Ellen's tightly, so tight in fact that her small knuckles turned white. Cold sweat broke out on her face, and she whimpered softly.
"You scared her!" Matron cried, trying to comfort the panicking toddler.
"Jump start is the term I prefer to use, but yes, I scared her," Grandfather replied, his aged eyes asking forgiveness of the two of them.
Nodding briskly, Ellen used her other hand to brush the girls hand clutching onto her own as if for dear life. She tried hard not to gasp when the toddler turned her eyes toward her. The Grandfather was also surprised. Neither of them had ever seen a person, so, utterly, lost.
Author's Notes: Well, what do you think? I'm getting too many ideas for my own good on this story (which I know will wear out too soon) that boy that stayed with Washu, will make an appearance in the next chapter, he'll actually be her first friend! After, of course, she learns how to walk/talk/socialize, and other basics you need to survive. Still, the offer stands, email me or write in your review any complaint you may have, or even some tips! I really need them, well, I guess I could do without them…anyways; I'm looking for an editor that's up to editing! I don't really need one either, but if you want to, I'll let one person who offers to be an editor (IF THEY'RE UP TO IT) be warned, however, if you just want to be editor who just wants to screw up my story and post it for their own, I WILL ask the FF.net people to deal with you. So with that said, I hope you're enjoying the story!