By: TK Takaishi
** May 17th, A.S. 522. Two weeks later**
Takeru blinked as he looked out the tall, narrow window of his small study. The bright spring sunshine felt warm on his face, and the sweet songs of birds drifted up to him in his room. From his vantage point in the tower of the rough but sturdy fortress of Ardinberg, the fields of the Ishidan province of Saldea looked green and peaceful. The last remnants of winter's snow and ice had surrendered to the coming of spring long ago, and everywhere Takeru looked, he saw green grass and tender, beautiful blossoms covering the harsh mountain landscape. From above, it was as if someone had spread an immense, intricate tapestry over the previously rocky ground, a tapestry full of swirls and dashes of vibrant colours. Despite the war, Takeru allowed himself a small smile. There was life in the air. And where there was life, there was always hope.
Takeru closed his eyes and stretched his slim frame, trying not to smudge the neatly written notes and the piles of scrolls and old manuscripts on his desk. Sighing, he wiped his hands clean of ink with his handkerchief, and carefully set aside the eagle-feather quill he had been writing with. It was days like this that made everything seem to go away. All of his troubles, all of his fears, they all seemed to disappear in the face of the sunlight. He had learned to treasure these precious moments of peace like the jewels they were. Nowadays, such moments of peace were rare indeed.
Cunningly concealed within a narrow valley in the shadow of Mount Gaidan, on the south-western edge of the Ishidan mountain ranges, Ardinberg was a self-sufficient fortress that served as the headquarters for the Lord Marc of Saldea. It was certainly much easier to defend a secret castle deep in the wilds than to try and hold one of the dying Ishidan cities, as some of the other Lords had done. The deep pine forests on all sides effectively discouraged the casual traveler from wandering anywhere near the large fortress, and the twisting, winding fjords ensured that the not-so-casual traveler would be hopelessly lost without a guide. Even if someone did manage to find it, the tall stone walls defended the fortress from all but the most determined of sieges. The fields and farms within the walls ensured that Ardinberg could survive a siege indefinitely. It was a rough, hastily-built fortress that had been thrown up in less than ten years in utter secrecy, but it was sturdy. It was also the closest thing to civilization in all of Ishida.
As he stretched, Takeru caught sight of himself in the tall mirror set into the wall opposite his desk. Self-consciously, he dabbed at the spot of ink that had gotten on his sleeve. He was taller now, though not as tall as Ken. That was the only notable difference in his appearance. The same blond hair framed the same blue eyes. His smooth, unlined face often made him seem younger than his twenty-one years, an impression that was further reinforced by his relatively slim physique. Some Lords would have immediately taken him for a servant, if it were not for the clothes that he wore.
He wore a plain white shirt with a few threads of dark blue and gold sewn into the chest and cuffs for decoration, and his royal blue cloak was slung across the back of his chair. The sword Ichibou stood propped up against the side of his table. Unlike Ken, his blue eyes did not seem to pierce and probe whatever they looked upon. They were softer and kinder; eyes of a healer, not of a warrior. Some had taken those eyes as a sign of weakness, and all of them had lived to regret it.
Presently, Takeru rolled up his sleeve once more, and leafed through another page of the book in front of him. Dipping his quill into an inkwell, he carefully set the point down onto another scroll of clean paper, and began to write. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the dry scratching of a quill on paper and the occasional crackle of wrinkling parchment as Takeru turned the pages.
Finally, the young man looked up as faint, but even footsteps began to approach his room from the hall. The footsteps halted outside the door, and there was a polite knock. Takeru smiled as he leaned back in his chair. "Come in," he called out. "Is that you, Marc?"
The door opened, and a tall man walked in clutching a small scroll of paper in his hand. The streaks of silver in his dark hair and his carefully trimmed mustache made him appear to be in his fifties, although his face remained unlined, and his eyes were as bright as a child's. "Sire," he said in a slow, deep voice, "my apologies for disturbing you, but I have just received word. The last of my messengers have returned."
Takeru put down his quill, and carefully laid out his notes to dry. "And?"
"Good news, my Lord. They have all agreed to come, my Lord. Lady Isendre and Lord Corin are both on their way here. They have also instructed my messengers to tell us that they have already started the muster of their respective lands without bothering to wait for the outcome of the conference. They each hope to have ten thousand soldiers ready to march in two week's time."
"Even Lord Nyarc?" Takeru turned in his chair to look at Lord Marc. "Even those that are not knights? Are they coming?"
"They are coming, my Lord," Marc said as he nodded. "Nyarc, Anton, Falin…all of them. Though some has said that they will not come as part of the Ishidan nation, and they will not come here. They insist on being recognized as sovereign nations in themselves."
Takeru smiled in relief. "That's not a problem. We can humour them, if need be. This is good news indeed, my friend. This conference cannot afford to fail. We have no time left to start another one."
Marc ran a finger across his mustache as he leaned against Takeru's desk. "That it cannot," he agreed. "I think even the other Lords are realizing that this land is running out of time fast."
Takeru gave the older man a sideways glance. "You see? Perhaps the name of 'Lord Marc of Saldea' holds more sway than you give yourself credit for. At least some lingering memories of the Old Ishida remain."
"Not nearly as much sway as 'Emperor Takeru of all Ishida'," Marc retorted.
"Not enough to convince the other provinces to rejoin the Ishidan banner, apparently."
"You are the rightful heir to the Ishidan throne," Marc said firmly. "And no matter what happens, you will have the support of the provinces of Saldea, Corin and Isendre. We Ishidan Knights are a stubborn breed. When we take an oath to the throne, we will abide by it. Make no mistake, my Lord. If you raise the banner of Ishida again, people from all over Gaea will flock to it, whether their lords permit them or not."
Takeru stood up and looked out the window as a breeze ruffled the pages and scrolls on his desk. "I'm not doubting your allegiance, Marc," he said. "Nor your courage. It does not matter whether these countries rejoin Ishida anyway, as long as we have their support. That would be a matter to be sorted out after the Seihad is over. Even that though, is a doubtful matter."
"If anyone is going to get the peoples' support," Marc said with a smile. "it'll be you. I've seen you work with my own men. It's magic I'm telling you. If you had been anyone else, I'd be worried about my own throne right about now."
"Are all the preparations in Ardinberg complete?"
"My servants will have everything ready in time," Marc assured. "Don't worry. A month is more than enough time to prepare everything."
Takeru said nothing as he stood by the window biting on his lower lip. From this angle, he could see down into Marc's castle's courtyard, and into the nearby fields and vales. Columns upon columns of soldiers were being mustered there, with more streaming in from the nearby hills and dales as they spoke. Marc had estimated that the muster of the lands of Saldea was almost complete, but the army gathered below could not have numbered more than six or seven thousand. A small fraction of Ishida's armies in the days of its might during the Aeon of Strife. We cannot stand alone, he thought. If this is all that one Lord can muster, then we're all doomed if we fight apart. This conference must succeed. The Lord God bless me on that day. I must succeed…
"Any progress with Prophecies?" Marc said.
Takeru shook his head as he banished all thoughts of the conference from his mind. That was something to worry about when the day came. Instead, he sat down at his desk again, and leafed through his notes. "Not much," he admitted. "I've read and reread the entire thing over and over again. The first half, the history, is fascinating, yes, but not entirely relevant to our situation. The second half though, is frustrating me to no end. You would think that after years of studying the same text over and over again would gain me some insight into what it all means."
Marc pushed off from the desk, and circled around to peer over Takeru's shoulder at his neatly handwritten notes. "And why is that? If it's a language problem, I have interpreters that can help."
Takeru rubbed his forehead, and gave Marc a sideways smile. "Your interpreters have been a great help already, Marc. I very much doubt they can do anymore after translating the entire book into common Gaean. The problem is that some of these prophecies are so vague, they can be interpreted to mean just about anything if you're creative enough. Most of the time, I'm not even sure whether Adun is being literal or figurative."
"Not all of them are that vague, are they?"
"No," Takeru admitted. "Some are fairly specific. The prophecies about my pilgrimage, for example, were very specific indeed. But some of the others…well…there are times when I think Adun was trying to be vague."
"Have my scholars taken a look at this?"
"They have," Takeru said. "They have a copy that the translators have provided to them, and we consult regularly. In fact, all the stand-masters have a copy, and they are having the best minds all over Gaea working on this as we speak. Yet…I don't think it's not good enough to be told what it means. I want to see it for myself. Besides, I have some time before Lady Isendre and Lord Corin comes. Might as well put it to good use."
Rubbing his mustache thoughtfully, Marc took one of Takeru's notes and read it carefully. "Mind if I help?" he suggested after a bit. "I have a scholar's training, and I have worked with ancient texts before."
"Not at all," Takeru said with a wan smile. "In fact, I welcome it. Perhaps a fresh perspective can glean something new. A tired mind thinks in circles."
Marc pulled up a chair and sat down. He muttered to himself as his eyes scanned back and forth across the page. "Ana meyta shin kare liader wutani…"
"The translation," Takeru said dryly, "is right below the verse."
"Oh."
Takeru leaned back and put his hands behind his head. "I still remember that one. 'And the angel said, "For though the Tenken comes to bring peace, his appearance will herald war. Friends will tear at one another, brothers will kill in anger. Beware the Lord of lies, for his tools are many, but his signs are few. I tell you, have nothing to do with his evil devices.'"
Marc frowned. "Looks straightforward to me. It's a warning. And a lot of these predictions have happened already. Or, I should say, they are still happening around us."
"Look at the verse below that," Takeru said.
The Lord of Saldea looked down. "Lo!" he read out loud, "I saw a great gaping mouth. Painful to see, it was, blinding the eyes with an unholy black light. I cowered and hid my face in my hands, but the angel touched my shoulder and bid me watch. Streams of black issued forth from that rotten mouth like water might burst from a dammed river. I saw, and my heart despaired. 'Close the mouth!' I cried. 'Close the mouth, or I shall go mad with fear!'"
There was a moment of silence, broken by a small sigh from Takeru. "You see my problem?"
Marc read the verse over a second time, then put the scroll down. He leaned back and stared at the ceiling in thought. "A mouth," he mused out loud. "A real one? Is Adun being literal and describing the Khaydarin Emperor's mouth?"
"Perhaps," Takeru said. "Though why would he want to do that?"
"Look at this," Marc said as he pointed at the scroll. "There's obviously something wrong with the mouth. Something undesirable. Adun 'cowered' from it. 'Streams of black' issued from it, and caused Adun to despair. This is a warning, my Lord. Some weapon of Khaydarin perhaps."
"But what does 'streams of black' mean?" Takeru said. "An bolt of black fire? Poison?"
"Why would Adun use the adjective 'streams' for bolts of fire?" Marc said. "I think we can rule that out."
"Perhaps I'm being too literal?" Takeru went on. "Is Adun merely using an image to describe how Khaydarin's hosts will issue from Akeldama like water from a dammed river?"
"No," Marc said as he read the passage again. "I don't think even Adun knows the meanings of these images. He merely wrote down what he saw in the vision. What they mean, I don't think anyone in Gaea knows. The question is, what did the Lord mean when he gave these visions to Adun?"
Takeru looked at Marc strangely. "I never thought of that. In that case, I don't think that these images are being figurative. This is literally going to happen, in one way or another. What he means by 'streams of black' though, I still have no idea."
"I don't think we can speculate any closer to the meaning than we already have," Marc said slowly. "The important thing is to recognize the mouth when it opens. Then…I guess…we have to find some way to close it. That is, I believe, the main role of these prophecies. To give us signs to look for, and act on."
Takeru grunted as he sat up in his chair. "Then try this," he said as he got up and handed Marc another scroll, also covered in his handwriting.
Marc accepted the scroll, and frowned as he read it out loud. "Through the rain of fire, through the great heaving of the restless earth, through the red light of the blood-stained sky, I beheld the sight of this land's salvation. Angels dressed in liquid light stood at each corner of the Devil's Rune, and held back all the world with their mighty strength. No breath of wind, no drop of water, no spark of fire; no sword of man, no fang of beast, no arrow of demon will disturb the final Seihad. Ere two rode forth, only one returned, for the Tenken shall be wrought with the spilling of willing blood."
The Lord said nothing for awhile as he read it over again. Takeru had obviously spent a lot of time on this prophecy, since there were notes and annotations all over the margins of the page. There were underlines and circles around words and phrases, particularly the last sentences, which Takeru had outlined in red ink.
At last, Marc sighed. "My Lord, are there any earlier references to the appearance of the Devil's Rune? Any descriptions?"
Takeru shook his head. "No descriptions. Adun merely said that it would appear on the Day of Salvation, wrought with black fire."
"Hmmm…," Marc muttered. "Then we don't know how many corners there are to the Devil's Rune?"
"Does it matter?"
"It might." Marc said as he scratched his head. "Other than that, I really have no idea how to interpret this verse."
"And look at the last two sentences," Takeru said as he rubbed his eyes. "'Ere two shall ride forth, one shall return, for the Tenken will be wrought with the spilling of willing blood.' Am I to take that to mean an angel is going to die?"
"Do angels even bleed?" Marc said doubtfully. "I thought they were spirits, without flesh or form. Whose blood is Adun referring to?"
"I'm pretty sure that 'spilling blood' means death. We need not take everything so literally. Perhaps the Tenken will be wrought by the death of one who is willing? A sacrifice perhaps?" Takeru's face darkened. "Perhaps this is a prophecy predicting the death of one of us stand-masters."
There was a long moment of silence. Then Marc sighed. "Perhaps. Or it could be referring to an angel. Or some as yet unnamed soldier. There will be a lot of blood spilled before this is over. I would not be hasty to jump to conclusions, my Lord."
"Jumping to conclusions is about all I can do at this point," Takeru said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "What does this all mean? Am I going to die? Or am I going to have to order others to die? Or both? Or neither?"
Marc looked up from the scroll to frown at Takeru. "My Lord, worrying about it now won't help us. Let's look at the rest of the book. Perhaps knowing some context can help us understand this better. What is the root of the problem?"
"What Adun means by the word 'angel'," Takeru muttered in response. "And what exactly is the 'Devil's Rune'."
"Then let's look at how he uses the word 'angel', and how he describes the Devil's Rune," Marc said firmly. "Speculating won't help us if we have nothing to speculate on."
"I've looked through the entire book, Marc," Takeru said. "Several times over. If it's there, I would have seen it."
There was a short silence. Then Marc stirred again. "Perhaps," he suggested, "there might be references to these things in other ancient texts. Adun was not the only prophet that walked on Gaea. Perhaps he was drawing on the context of some other prophecies when he wrote about this."
Takeru looked down at his notes as he chewed on his lower lip in thought. "Perhaps," he said slowly. "But we have no access to the ancient texts. Ishida's greatest library of such texts and scrolls were in Palas, and they were burned more than twenty years ago."
"Perhaps some of my scholars may be able to find something in my personal library," Marc said. "The library is not here, but I can contact them by pigeon or by messenger to get them to start looking into the origin of the 'Devil's Rune'."
"I can even speak to the other stand-masters about it," Takeru said as he nodded. "Perhaps they have access to a more complete library than what we have here. I believe Yagami's Royal Library is still preserved in Maitzin."
"Yes," Marc said as he nodded. "I will send word by the end of today. In the meantime, is there anything else that perplexes you?"
Takeru smiled as he handed over another note. "Read this."
For the next few hours, the two Lords locked themselves in the small study, and waded deep into every chapter that Adun had ever written. They pored over his accounts of the last Seihad in minute detail, looking for clues to help them understand the present, and looked at every one of his prophecies, large and small in the second part of the book. Every now and then, Marc ordered his servants to bring them fresh scrolls and more ink as they made more and more notes. Lists of prophecies and important facts and statistics on the last Seihad began to occupy scroll after scroll of paper. When noon finally came, Marc had a servant bring their food to the library. They ate their noon-time meal while studying Adun's last battle with Khaydarin at the end of the Aeon of Strife.
Having been brought up in a farm, Takeru was not used to a scholar's work, but he found himself enjoying it. Looking through the scrolls that he could read, he passed the ones in Ancient Gaean to Marc to translate. It was tedious work, but then, he had always been good at concentrating on one thing, and one thing only, for hours, or even days, on end, and the texts provided an opportunity for him to immerse himself in mindless work and not think about the war for a few hours. Thus, the time seemed to slip by all too fast. He didn't even notice the passage of the hours as he read scroll after scroll of the small collection of records and lore that Ardinberg did possess. Chasing obscured threads of facts into the records of centuries past, the duo worked far into the afternoon.
Eventually, the bell of Marc's castle was struck. In the distance, a distant horn sounded as yet another army arrived in Marc's courtyard. Takeru looked up from his book. "What time is it?" he asked Marc.
Marc looked up as well. "I believe the bell just struck five," he said.
"Five o'clock!" Takeru said as he closed his book with a snap. "I didn't realize that time had passed so quickly. Marc, would you mind continuing the search without me for an hour? I have some business to attend to."
"Of course, my Lord," Marc said, with a knowing glint in his eye. "Are you going to speak with the others now?"
"Yes," Takeru said as he got up and brushed dust off of his cloak. "Please tell your servants not to disturb me for the next hour. I will be back."
"They know," Marc replied. "But I will remind them anyway."
"Thank you," Takeru said as he unlocked the door to the library. Then he strode off quickly through the narrow, sparsely furnished corridors of Ardinberg. Passing soldiers bowed to him as he passed through the gardens, the plain, long hallways, and the wide courtyards. \
"Good afternoon, my Lord," several of them said in greeting as they touched their fists to their hearts, the Ishidan salute. "Good afternoon," Takeru replied as he nodded to them politely. "The Lord always illumine your path."
Finally, he climbed up a wide set of stone stairs, and came at last to a long hallway. Here in the upper levels where Takeru stayed, Marc had made a small attempt at softening the bare stone walls with tapestries, paintings and odd suits of armour. The windows here were slightly larger as well, allowing more sunlight to flood in and light up the corridor. Walking to the end of the hall, Takeru came upon his room.
There were two guards standing on either side of his door, and both of them bowed in greeting. Then one of them turned and unlocked the door, pushing it open so that Takeru could walk in. Takeru did, feeling more than a little self-conscious. Even after having lived for almost a year in Marc's castle, he still did not feel quite at ease having a servant or a guard doing everything for him. Richard had been a father, a mentor, and a friend. He had certainly not been a servant. Takeru was no stranger to the menial chores of cleaning, laundering, cooking, or even mucking out a dirty barn.
But here, there were servants that prepared his meals, servants who served his meals, and servants who laundered and brushed his clothes. Takeru drew the line at servants that helped him bathe. There were some things a man should be entitled to, and a little privacy when bathing was one of them. He grimaced as he stepped into his bedchamber. Yes, his life now was certainly a far cry from his humble beginnings as a mountain-bred farmboy in Kurtal.
Inside his room, Takeru quickly strode across the floor to his window, pulled open the curtains and threw open the sash. Sunlight flooded into the room, filling the luxuriously furnished room in the fortress with a golden light. Takeru indulged in another brief look outside at the beautiful spring fields. Then he turned around.
Sitting down on the ground with his back to the window and letting the warm sunlight play on his back, Takeru wrapped his cloak about himself. Unfastening his sword and sheath from the belt by his side, he set the butt against the ground in front of him and let the side of the sheath rest against his shoulder. His forehead furrowed with concentration as he closed his eyes.
The Perenic plane, the thought-plane, was something that the stand-masters had discovered almost by accident. It was Takeru and Kari who had first found it by looking into some of the older records left by earlier stand-masters. It was also them that had first tried it, and discovered that they could communicate over distances much longer than they had previously dreamed. When they had told the others, it had taken some training to get them to be able to enter the Perenic plane.
Takeru felt the familiar tingling sensation all over his body as if the world seemed to be slipping away from his senses. In the darkness of his own mind, he began to be conscious of the quiet, ghostly flickers of other peoples' souls and thoughts in the castle all around him. He could feel Marc's thoughts, stronger and more ordered than the others, flaring brightly in the study on the other side of Ardinberg. He could see the flickers of the servants and the guards as they went about their business. The first time he had experienced it, Takeru had been absolutely fascinated by the way he could read other people's auras. But now, he was not here to read the mood of the fortress.
Firmly, he clamped an imaginary hand over his eyes and ears, and ventured further. Even the flickers began to fade away as he directed his mind deeper and deeper into himself. The tingling sensation began to fade and Takeru felt himself being lifted slowly into the air. Everything below seemed to matter less and less. His heartbeat began to slow down as his breathing fell into a deep, easy rhythm.
Finally, there was a great rushing sensation. The darkness all around him became streaked with light moving past at incredible speeds. He seemed to be rocketing upwards through a tunnel of light with no end, and he felt disoriented for a moment as the last sensations of the flesh receded from his mind. Then he was there.
Takeru looked around. He was no longer in Lord Marc's castle. Instead, he seemed to be floating in a black space, with nothing above, below, or around him. The blackness was so absolute he could see nothing beyond it. The black absence of thought filled the void and hemmed in on Takeru's senses. There were no stars, no moon and no sun. Takeru extended his hand in front of him and spread out his fingers.
Yet light must be coming from somewhere, because he could see his hand just fine.
It was a puzzle that they had never really been able to solve. It was certainly not one he would be able to solve now. Twisting his head and body, he looked all around him. He seemed to be the first one here. Looking down, he saw that he appeared to be clad in the same dress as his physical body was. His sword was buckled back onto his belt. Even the small ink-stain on the cuff of his left sleeve was still there. Takeru shook his head in wonder. It never failed to astonish him, how things on the thought-plane could seem so lifelike, solid and real.
Then Takeru shook his head, and tried to control a rising nausea. This was too much. He couldn't think floating about in the middle of a black void. Shivering, he wrapped his cloak around himself again, and stretched out his feet. He arbitrarily picked a direction to be "down", just as he had done many times before.
He saw the picture.
Formed the world.
And made it real.
Immediately, he felt his feet coming into contact with a smooth and solid stone ground. Takeru took a deep breath as he rocked back and forth, regaining his balance. Then he looked about him, and thought again.
The "ground" began to stretch off into infinity, so that the black space was divided into a flat floor and the fathomless black sky. Takeru thought some more. The sky above turned blue, and fleecy white-lined clouds appeared. Then Takeru paused as he considered his next move. What should he make this time?
Then his lips curled into a smile. He saw the picture. Made it real.
The "ground" became slanted, as if he were standing on an incline. In the distance, they began to shape themselves into jagged mountains. Majestic peaks thrust themselves into the sky, and deep U-shaped valleys filled with gargantuan glaciers plunged into the depths. Long green grass shimmered and began to appear in patches on the ground, along with jagged boulders and scattered, glacier-worn stones. In the distance, the white of snow-capped summits flashed in the sunlight. He paused again. Perhaps the sunlight was too hot. He looked up, and immediately a shade fell over his face as a great sakura tree appeared behind him, and spread its lush, flowering branches over his head. Down in the valley, a small village appeared, and small columns of smoke spiraled into the sky from the cook-fires of the good housewives. A slight breeze ran through his hair. Then, Takeru turned around, and looked once more.
He had created a lush, green mountain valley in late spring. The snow had just receded, and the streams of melt-water were still coursing their way down the rocky slopes in their search for the sea. The cold, fresh breeze that brushed past his face smelled slightly of pine cones. Satisfied, he pulled a long grass stalk out of the ground and put it in his mouth. Then he lay down on the soft grass under the sakura tree, and waited.
How frighteningly real I can make this world, Takeru thought to himself as he chewed the grass stalk. But it's all an illusion, isn't it? Then he closed his eyes and allowed the shifting shadows of the sakura tree's waving branches play across his face. It's not real, no matter how much I wish it was. Though I do wish life was this simple…
Presently, there was a slight shift in the thought-plane. Takeru felt a brief tug on one side, as if the ground had abruptly sloped that way, then leveled off again. He smiled with his eyes closed. There was a small gasp.
"Takeru!" a laughing voice said. "I know it's you! No-one else could make such a detailed image of Kurtal!"
Takeru rolled over and sat up. Kari was grinning at him through the long grass. Takeru brushed his hair back sheepishly and took out his grass stalk. "I thought you might like it."
"Whatever possessed you to make something like this? What's wrong with our usual room, table and chairs?"
"What's wrong with a change of scenery?" Takeru said in return. "You know, I spent all day indoors looking up old scrolls and texts. I need to get outside, even if it's all in my mind."
Kari waded hurriedly through the long grass, and threw her arms around Takeru's neck. In response, Takeru effortlessly lifted her straight off the ground and spun her around in the air a few times. Then they both collapsed laughing on the sunlit grass slope like small children. For a brief moment, all their worries and fears seemed to evaporate and float up into the endless blue sky. For a brief moment, the two laughed and pretended that everything was all right.
Neither of them said anything for a few moments while they savoured the brief island of peace. Then Kari looked up. "Complete with the sakura tree," she said, grinning. "You got all the important details right."
"Of course," Takeru said, looking insulted. "It's not home without a sakura tree."
"You still carry those stupid seeds in your pocket, don't you."
"I do." Takeru shrugged as he lay on the ground. "They're so small and light, I don't really notice them anymore. I just remind the servants not to wash them away when they launder my clothes."
"But you keep them?" Kari said as her left hand sought out Takeru's right one, and grasped it.
"I couldn't bring myself to throw them away," Takeru said as his voice grew softer. In his palm, Kari's hand felt as soft, light and warm as a feather. "I'm going to plant them when this is all over. Just you watch."
"Of course," Kari repeated. "Just as soon as we get a chance to settle down."
The two stayed like that for another long moment. They didn't say anything, and merely lied on the ground holding hands as they let Takeru's imaginary breeze blow past their faces and tousle their hair. Eventually, Kari sat up, and put her hands on Takeru's shoulders. Leaning close to his face, she peered intently into his eyes. Takeru stared back as he lay flat on his back.
"What's wrong?"
"You've been studying a lot, haven't you?"
"How'd you know?"
"There are bags under your eyes, idiot," Kari said as she touched his face. "If they show up in the Perenic plane, then they must be really bad in real-life. Get some rest."
Takeru grinned. "Yes, ma'am. Just remember to get some rest yourself. I can see some grey in your hair already. And you're what? Twenty-one?"
"What?" Kari looked up, and a mirror appeared before her face. She stared into it concernedly. A moment later, she punched Takeru lightly on the shoulder as she allowed the mirror to dissolve. "Liar. I don't see anything."
"Of course not," Takeru said, still grinning. "This is a thought-plane. You probably made the mirror reflect what you wanted to see."
Kari punched him again and they laughed together. Then Kari paused. Brushing a stray strand of chestnut-brown hair behind her ear, she stared again into Takeru's eyes. Takeru stopped as well, staring back again with a perplexed expression on his face. Slowly, Kari closed her eyes and leaned even closer until she could taste Takeru's light breath on the tip of her nose. Takeru felt his heartbeat quicken as the faint smell of the rosewater Kari had used in her hair enveloped him. Before he could react or say anything, their lips met in a thrilling kiss.
Time seemed to stop.
For a second that lasted an eternity, Takeru couldn't feel anything except Kari's soft lips on his mouth. His whole body was tingling again. His eyes widened in surprise, then closed as he surrendered. Reaching up, he pulled Kari even closer to his chest, holding her as if he would never let her go. He couldn't breathe, and he didn't care. He could feel Kari's hands running through his hair and along his neck, leaving fiery trails of sensations on his skin…
There was an embarrassed cough. "Ahem…," another voice said. "Oh my…, perhaps I should turn away…"
Kari broke off the kiss in a hurry, and all but jumped off Takeru in her alarm. Takeru remained on the ground with his eyes closed as he tried to lock away the timeless moment forever in his memory. Silently, he cursed whoever it was a thousand times, so that he wouldn't be tempted to do it out loud. Then, sighing, he raised his head to see who had interrupted them.
Ken seemed very interested in the ground as he stood less than three meter away. In fact, he seemed very interested in everything but Takeru's eyes. His expression was carefully neutral, but his face was flushed scarlet. "Good afternoon," he muttered. "Nice spot you made for the meeting."
Takeru and Kari both groaned as they flopped back into the grass. "Ken," Takeru said tiredly. "You've got to stop doing this."
"Agreed," Ken said, still staring at his boots.
"To be fair," Davis's cheerful voice said behind him, "you should have been expecting us just about now."
"Besides," Cody's slightly raspy voice said in a mildly disapproving tone, "this is time for business. Not fun. You two can do that on your own time."
Kari sat up, shaking grass from her hair. "Don't tell me you all saw that," she said as she looked in dismay at Davis, Cody and Ken who were standing in a row before them.
Ken looked away again in embarrassment. Davis gave her a wide, toothy grin and a "victory" sign with his fingers. Cody only stared at her disapprovingly. "If you're talking about the kiss," Cody said in his usual stern voice, "yes, we did."
"I looked away," Ken said hurriedly. "I only saw the first bit."
"Well, I saw all of it," Davis said without a hint of embarrassment as he sat down. He gave Kari a double thumbs-up sign. "I must say, very passionate," he teased. "Kisses like that should come with a replay button."
"Did someone say something about a kiss?" Yolei's voice suddenly broke in. "Who kissed who?"
Takeru groaned, and covered his eyes with his arm. Merde, he thought gloomily. I'll never hear the end of this…
Yolei appeared, and glared furiously around at everyone. "What did I miss? Someone had better tell me."
She looked at Ken, but Ken only looked away. It was Davis that finally answered her. "Kari kissed Takeru," Davis said cheerfully. "You should've seen it, Yolei. Oh my…so steamy…"
"That's enough," Takeru said, blushing furiously. "Perhaps…perhaps we should get back to business. I have things to do in the real world."
Yolei walked right up to Takeru, and thrust a finger in his face. "Takeru Ishida, don't try to change the subject. Let the expert in love counsel you in these matters. It's all right to kiss, even in times like this. Don't ever be embarrassed about your feelings, or else…"
"Or else," Davis interjected mischieviously, "I'll steal her away from you before you can blink."
"Oh I don't know," Takeru said solemnly. "I can blink pretty-"
"Actually," Ken cut in, "Takeru, we should get back to business. I have something rather alarming to report."
The atmosphere of fun evaporated instantly. Yolei turned around, her face suddenly serious. Davis' grin faltered as he looked up from where he sat. Takeru's eyes narrowed as he bit off his joke. Ken paused for a moment. When he was certain that he had everyone's attention, he cleared his throat.
"There have been a string of disasters in the past two weeks," Ken said. "Since this war started, I have lost well over a third of my army already. It's only a matter of time before Ichijouji falls."
Davis hissed. Cody started in alarm. "Why didn't you tell us?" the young stand-master said. "I had no idea it was that bad before. We might have been able to help!"
"It wasn't that bad until two weeks ago," Ken answered calmly. "Just after the last meeting. The Seventh Company was ambushed, and I lost fifty and two hundreds men and a Lord-Captain. I was counting on that Company backing me up on the southern front, so when I lost it, the southern front was overrun almost immediately. I lost another ten hundreds there. That's sixty and two hundreds good men and riders in less than two weeks. I can't take losses like that and expect to survive."
Takeru leaned forward, frowning. "That much? Perhaps Khaydarin is planning something?"
"Oh, they've definitely stepped up their attack," Ken agreed as he sat down, and leaned against the sakura tree's trunk. "I'm retreating on almost all fronts. Never before has their attack been quite so fierce. I haven't told my men yet, as it would kill their morale, but the truth is, it's only a matter of time before they take Halidan. I estimate around three weeks, and Micah agrees with me."
"Three weeks?" Davis burst out. "The conference is five weeks away!"
"I agree with Davis," Cody said in his raspy voice. "The conference must proceed without interruption. Ken, perhaps after the conference, you can expect to have help within a week. If the conference succeeds."
"That's six weeks," Ken said as he shook his head. "Almost a month and a half. Even if you do manage to bring help, I fear that all you'll find is the ashes of Halidan."
"Maybe some of us can bring help now?" Yolei ventured. "As soon as we get back to the real world?"
"How much will your Kings and Queens spare?" Ken said fiercely. "Five hundreds? Three hundreds? Save your men's lives. That little won't make much of a difference."
"Perhaps if you drew your men in, and defended only the inner kingdom…," Kari suggested.
"They'd burn every single field we have outside the battlelines," Ken said gloomily, "and my army would starve within a week. That's an even faster way to get defeated."
Silence fell over the assembled stand-masters like a smothering veil. Nobody stirred or said anything as they digested this grim news. Finally, Takeru shook his head. "You'll have to hold, Ken," Takeru finally said. "You must hold the coast for at least another five weeks, until the conference is over."
"Takeru, you don't know what you're asking," Ken said as his eyes flashed.
"And what am I asking?"
"The impossible," Ken said flatly. "I'm losing ground fastest on the southern and the western front. Before long, Takeru, I may have to tell my people to hide in the forests of Ishida up north. But to not retreat, and hold on for five weeks, it may mean sacrificing thousands of my people."
"It may well come to that," Takeru said evenly.
There was a stunned silence. Then Ken stood up, his face furious. "Takeru Ishida, we have been friends, indeed brothers, for six years, but I will not take orders from you. Especially not orders that ask me to sacrifice my kingdom! I am the Emperor of Ichijouji, and I must first think of my people!"
"Every logical military argument dictates that Ichijouji must hold until the conference is over." Takeru said. The unexpectedly soft tone of his voice softened the blow of the cruel words. "After all, I would do that if I were the Emperor. You, Ken, are thinking of Ichijouji."
"Of course I am," Ken snapped.
"But that's not enough," Takeru said. "You're not only the steward of Ichijouji. You're the steward of Gaea along with the rest of us. And you, the best strategist among us, must realize that it is sometimes acceptable to sacrifice troops if it means the gaining of something more important."
"An inordinately high price," Yolei said quietly. "And the gain is also doubtful."
"To be sure," Kari said suddenly. "But then, we weren't put here to look after our respective kingdoms, were we? We were put here so that we could govern the whole land. Ken, that includes Yagami, Ishida, Sheid, Jakt, Fan-Tzu, Novinha, and every other nation on the map. They're as much your people as Ichijoujans!"
Ken sat back and stared up at the made-up sky. "Five weeks," he muttered to himself. "Is it possible? Perhaps if we held on a little longer at each wall, send teams behind them to target their supply lines…." Then he shook his head. "You're asking a lot."
"Yet, we ask anyway," Takeru replied.
Ken didn't say anything for a long moment. Then he released the breath he was holding. "If it was anyone but you Takeru…anyone else…," he growled as he glared at the Ishidan Emperor, "this wouldn't be happening."
"So you'll do it?"
Ken sighed. "Yes," he whispered. "If I am able."
Everyone heaved a huge sigh of relief. Takeru got up and embraced Ken. "Thank you, old friend," he said in his ear. "You will not stand alone. The instant I get back, I'll tell Lord Marc to send as many soldiers as he can spare to Halidan immediately. You can expect at least a thousand men to arrive within a week. Use them wisely."
"King Bjorn of Sheid will also send troops," Cody spoke up suddenly. "I'm not sure how many, but I believe he is willing to listen to me. Perhaps five hundred. More if I can manage it."
"The Taelidani will send more fighters," Davis said with a dangerous smile from where he lay on the ground. "Our best men. Seven hundred of them."
"There are already three thousand Taelidani fighters in my care," Ken said with a slight smile. "They're the best hunters and stalkers my Lord-Captains have ever seen. They can't seem to stop talking about them. Are you sure?"
"A doomed kingdom? A battle against overwhelming odds?" Davis' grin was definitely bordering on the insane side. "Most of my soldiers won't be able to resist. It seems that you, my friend, hasn't quite understood the Taelidani psyche yet."
"All told, that's more than two thousand men," Kari said in wonder. "Use them wisely, Ken."
"Two thousand men," Ken said softly. "I should warn you, some of them will not be coming back."
Takeru nodded. "Use them as you see fit."
"I am going to willfully sacrifice my kingdom," Ken growled, "I can't believe I'm doing this. Here we are, sitting and plotting about the deaths of tens of hundreds of people…"
"To save millions more," Kari said gently. "The people that will die know that, and they go into battle willingly. We grieve for them certainly. And when this is all over, they will be honoured. But war is a time of grief."
"All the same," Yolei said, "something good had better come out of this. How are preparations for the conference coming along?"
Cody cleared his throat, and looked meaningfully at Kari. "The time and place was set a long time ago, as you all know. June 21st, 522 A.D. will be the date. As for the place…," Cody trailed off as he shot Takeru a quick glance. "Is Ardinberg ready to receive us?"
"Lord Marc assures me that it will be ready," Takeru said as he nodded. "And the Lords Marc, Corin and Isendre have already mustered armies to protect the monarchs once they arrive. If necessary that is. I truly doubt that Khaydarin even knows Ardinberg exists, let alone where it is."
"That's why we chose it, after all," Yolei said with a shrug. "Secret. Heavily fortified. Probably no safer place in Gaea. And Ishida's neutral." She smiled ironically. "The only stand-nation that hasn't engaged in a war with any other stand-nation."
"Even if it's only because it was too devastated to fight," Davis reminded her.
"Cody and I have been working for a long time with King Bjorn of Sheid to have this conference set up," Kari continued for Cody. "King Bjorn is a wise man, one of the few able to see past the petty differences between Gaea's nations. He will not betray us, and he will certainly come."
"How about King Aidan of Yagami?" Yolei said.
Kari and Cody exchanged glances. "Tomorrow," Kari said, "Cody and I will be setting out from Sheid as diplomats to go speak to King Aidan. We'll be going by longboat to the city of Maitzin, capital of Yagami. Pray for us, especially. We will need all the help we can get to get him to listen."
"You're Yagami's stand-master!" Davis said as he frowned. "Don't they have to listen to you?"
"It's not quite that simple, Davis," Kari explained patiently. "Technically, yes, I am the ruler of Yagami. But if history has taught us anything, it is that the letter of the law often gets obscured around issues of power. If Aidan doesn't cooperate, it'll be difficult to get the support of his people. It'll certainly take more time than we can afford to lose."
"But do you think he'll cooperate?" Davis said.
"Perhaps," Kari said pensively. "We shall see. At the very least, I think he might honour us with a diplomatic envoy, even if he doesn't come himself."
"That's not good enough, Kari," Takeru said. "The other monarchs will take it as an insult."
"I know, I know," she said, wringing her hands in frustration. "I'll do my best."
Davis suddenly broke into a wide grin. "Hikari Kamiya, Honeytongue the soothsayer."
They all laughed together as Kari blushed scarlet. Then they all quieted down again. There was a moment of silence. Cody grunted. "It would certainly be nice if we could see each other face-to-face again. Not like this. It gets…lonely."
"At least you get to see Kari in person," Takeru said enviously. "She's probably sitting next to you in real life right now. I've been out here in Ishida for three years, by myself. I'd trade places with you any day."
"Defending a kingdom by yourself is lonely work," Ken added. "And Davis and Yolei are out there, goodness knows where…"
"Jakt and Fan-Tzu, south and west of your own borders," Yolei said frostily. "And I'll thank you to remember it."
"Which reminds me," Takeru said, turning to Davis and Yolei, "is Jakt and Fan-Tzu coming?"
"Oh, they're coming," Davis said as he rolled over in the grass and sat up. "They couldn't withstand my boyish charm."
Everyone snickered. Davis looked hurt. "Hey! I got the job done, didn't I? They'll definitely be coming. Both of them seem eager for it, in fact."
"The problem is," Yolei said in a more sober voice, "it's going to be difficult to get them there. To get to Ardinberg, we must first cross the bamboo forests of northern Jakt, and then the Saera desert. There are cloaked Khaydarin armies all over that area, simply because no kingdom has managed to spare the troops to patrol it regularly. Travel is all but impossible. It's going to be tough to get them across safely."
"If the King of Fan-Tzu and the Queen of Jakt die on the way," Takeru said in alarm, "that's the end of the conference right then and there! They're only coming because they trust in us stand-masters to protect and lead them! If we can't do that, we might as well give up right now."
"They'll get across safely," Davis said lazily. The dangerous glint in his eye belied his sleepy tone. "Don't worry about it."
And that was it. They would get across because Davis said so. The matter was considered closed, and they turned their attention to other things.
"How about Ishida," Kari asked Takeru.
"We'll be there," Takeru said slowly. "Though not as a unified nation. Marc, Isendre and Corin have pledged alliance with me, so that'll be Ishida. There'll come at least four other self-proclaimed Lords who insist on being recognized as sovereign nations. Everyone, remember to humour them. They're rather touchy about the issue of sovereignty at the moment."
"Of course," Kari said as she nodded. "We'll remember."
"So the only kingdom which has not yet decided to come is Yagami," Ken summed up. "Good. Perhaps things aren't going as badly as they seem."
"Where there's life, there's hope," Takeru said evenly. "In the meantime, are there any other matters that need our joint attention?"
Nobody spoke up. Takeru looked around for a moment, then shrugged. "Then we should begin turning our minds to preparing for the conference in the real world. We all have work to do, and I trust that all of you know what it is?"
Everyone nodded. Takeru smiled as he spread his hands. "Good. Then don't let me keep you ladies and gentlemen. Time is against us. We shall meet again in one week."
Ken disappeared immediately. His body shimmered then faded away like smoke borne away on the brisk mountain breeze. Davis and Yolei waved at Takeru, then turned and disappeared back to the real world as well. Cody looked questioningly at Kari.
"Go first," Kari said with a faint smile. "I will be with you shortly."
Cody nodded as understanding flooded his face. Then he too was gone.
Takeru and Kari stood alone in the thought-plane, looking at the peaceful village of Kurtal from the mountain. Then Kari turned, gave Takeru a brief peck on the cheek and embraced him tightly. "I love you," she whispered into his chest.
"I love you too," Takeru murmured into her soft hair. "What say we finish our kiss when we see each other again in a month?"
"I'll hold you to that," Kari teased as she laid her cheek against his shoulder.
"Promise," Takeru said sincerely. "And you know what I'm like with promises."
Kari laughed. Then, after another brief kiss, she stepped away. "In a months," she said as she faded away.
Takeru watched as her thought-shape disappeared like smoke. Then, casting one last wistful glance at the village below him, he closed his eyes and prepared to leave. Like he said, he had work to do.
There was a long moment. Then Takeru frowned. He opened his eyes again, and looked around. He was still on the grassy plain, underneath the sakura tree. The breeze he had created still whistled through his hair. He closed his eyes again, and concentrated.
Nothing happened. A minute later, he opened them again, and felt his body. It was as solid as ever, and he was still standing before Kurtal. He looked around, his frown deepening. This was worrying. Why couldn't he leave? He had done it a thousand times before. It was almost second-nature by now, as natural as taking a step through a door, and not once had it failed him like this. He took a deep breath. Something was happening, and he didn't know what. Perhaps if he calmed down a little…
Then he paused. His nose wrinkled as he smelt something unpleasant in the air. Something he had not created. Whatever it was, it raised the hackles on the back of his neck. It took him a moment to place the scent of burning wood and crops. He looked down the mountain-side.
And gasped.
Kurtal was on fire. No, it had been on fire. There was nothing left to burn anymore. The fields of crops had become charred wastes of glowing black ash. The village itself was burnt to the ground, and there were corpses littered all over the streets. The village square had been desecrated, and the black skeleton of the mayor's house still seemed to be smouldering. Takeru staggered slightly in disbelief. This couldn't be happening. Not again. Khaydarin couldn't have come again!
Of their own accord, his feet began to move. Slowly at first, then faster and faster. Soon, Takeru was running down towards the village as fast as he could. He hadn't done that! Perhaps one of the others…just before they left…. But why would they do such a thing? Why destroy Kurtal? What was going on? His boots pounded the rocky earth as he sprinted down the slope towards his home village, his cloak flying behind him. As he ran, his right hand unsheathed the sword strapped to his side, and a golden glimmer began to surround his body.
He halted at the entrance of the village. It was exactly as he remembered it. Everything. The corpses were all there. His house was just in sight around the corner. He recognized the rustic cottage, just as he recognized Kari's house right beside it. He remembered the sickening odour of burnt flesh in the air, and the way the wind picked up the ashes on the ground until the very wind seemed to be black. He half-expected two dirty children to dart from his house to Kari's house in search of Kari's mother. He half-expected Richard to hurtle out of his house wielding a sword to protect his Emperor. Takeru's breath caught in his throat and his fists clenched as he fought back a surge of nausea.
Who had done this to his thought-shape?
"This is no good, Takeru," someone said reproachfully behind his back. "You've failed the test with flying colours. You can't dwell on the past like that."
Takeru whirled around.
Yamato was standing there, leaning against the charred remnants of a pillar with his arms crossed. The blond hair was slightly longer than Takeru remembered it. Instead of being cut short in its usual military style, the long hair was now tied in the back in a short ponytail that covered the nape of his neck. But the narrow, almond-shaped blue eyes and the thin lips were exactly as he remembered it. The fair, delicate face hinted at a regal, yet cold elegance that was accentuated by his relaxed, confident stance. An overwhelming feeling of deja-vu swept over him as he again had the surreal feeling of staring at a warped and distorted mirror. The dark brown traveler' robe Yamato wore caught Takeru's eye as it flapped in the wind. Why isn't he wearing black Khaydarin uniform like last time? he wondered briefly as he automatically raised his sword.
And what is he doing here?! In my thought-shape?!
Yamato ignored him, as he looked around. "Relax, onee-chan," he said as he held up his hands. "I'm not armed. See? Not even with a dagger. Just these traveler's robes, that's all."
Takeru was not fooled. It was the thought-plane after all. Yamato could call up a sword whenever he wanted. "How long have you been spying on me?" he said hoarsely.
"Long enough," Yamato's said with a thin smile. "Since the very beginning, Takeru. In fact, I got here before you did. I was very amused at your choice of setting."
"Did you do this? And are you stopping me from leaving?"
"Of course," Yamato said. "Why do you think the others had no trouble leaving, but you did?"
Takeru took one hand off of his sword, and wiped away the sweat on his tunic. He suddenly felt very cold indeed. "You heard everything…," he muttered in shock. "Everything about the conference, about Ken…"
"Don't underestimate me, ototo-chan," Yamato said icily. "The Perenic plane has been my playground when you were still just beginning to discover your abilities! If you think you know everything about this place, trust me, I know more."
"Yamato," Takeru said desperately. "Listen to me. You can't tell the Emperor what you just heard. You just can't. It'll…"
"Looks like you're out of the loop, aren't you?" Yamato said as he shook his head. "Don't you know I'm no longer with Khaydarin?"
Takeru almost dropped his sword with shock. His heart began to beat faster with hope. "You're…not?"
"I left six years ago, Takeru," Yamato said carefully, every word dripping with reluctance. "After…after you defeated me."
Takeru felt dizzy with joy. His heart felt like it would burst. "Then…then will you join us?"
Yamato took a step back. "No," he said, smiling as he held up his hands again. "Not quite so fast, my young naïve brother. I may have seen the error of my ways, but I have yet to see how your ways are any better than mine. Don't be hasty."
"No, don't leave yet," Takeru said, reaching out a hand as he lowered his sword. "Onii-chan, listen to-"
Yamato seemed to slide sideways as he rippled into a blur. Takeru wasted a precious instant blinking and readjusting his eyes as Yamato phased into a series of rippling images. By the time he had gotten over it, it was too late.
Quick as a flash, Yamato was right in front of Takeru. Before Takeru could blink, a savage uppercut to the jaw lifted hin off his feet and sent him flying backwards. For a moment, Takeru could see nothing but exploding stars of colour. As he went sailing through the air, Yamato leaped after him. One boot knocked Takeru's sword away from his grasp. The other smashed into his temple, and drove him into the ground.
Dazedly, Takeru looked up out of a haze of pain, then froze. Yamato was holding Ichibou's razor-sharp point a centimeter from Takeru's throat. A single thought leapt into dominance in his mind: wounds on the thought-plane were carried over into real life. "You let down your guard," Yamato said coldly. "You are too trusting. That's something you'll have to work on."
Takeru could feel blood welling up inside his mouth from a cut inside his cheek. He spat it out, as he stared back at Yamato. "Onii-chan…."
"For example," Yamato went on, as if he were holding normal conversation. "Yes, I may not tell your little secrets to the Emperor, but he will find out eventually. He may not be able to find you in the thought-plane. Only I could do that because I know you. But he has ways of finding out, TK. He has spies everywhere. He will learn about your conference, one way or another."
"We took precautions," Takeru wheezed as he lay on the ground. "Nobody knows the place except the monarchs, and even they will need a guide to get through the deep mountain forests around Ardinberg. The time was a little harder to guard, but still, only a trusted inner circle within each kingdom knows."
Yamato raised his eyebrows. "Perhaps not so naïve, then."
"I learned that from you!" Takeru snapped. "If I can't trust my own brother, then who can I trust? You betrayed Gaea to satisfy your selfish desire for power."
Yamato slowly lowered the point of Takeru's sword until it rested against Takeru's breastbone. Then he began to apply pressure on it. Slowly and slowly, the point began to pierce the layers of his clothing until the cold point began to cut into the skin underneath. Yamato's blue eyes were fierce, the first emotion they had shown since the beginning of their meeting.
"Never," Yamato said slowly, "say that I betrayed Gaea. I have wept for Gaea. I have fought countless times for Gaea, and I have suffered myself to be scarred in body and spirit for Gaea. You would do well, ototo-chan, to not speak of matters you know nothing about!"
The two brothers froze like statues for a long moment, neither willing to break off their glare. Then Takeru lifted his chin. "What is it you want, brother?" Takeru said softly.
Yamato said nothing, so Takeru went on. "It can't be to kill me, because I would be dead already. You've made your point with my sword already. I've learned my lesson about keeping my guard up. It can't be to eavesdrop on our conversation, because you wouldn't have shown yourself, and you aren't with Khaydarin anymore. You've already said that you're not here to join me.
"So why are you here?"
Yamato still said nothing. He only soundlessly took away Takeru's sword away from his chest. "You fascinate me, TK," he said bluntly. "You really do. It is a marvel to me how a weakling like you can gather the following that you have. It is a wonder to me that you intend to defy the might of Khaydarin, and that you might actually have a chance. And it amazes me that you managed to defeat me. A small man with no particular talents, yet you've somehow managed to become the very axis of history."
"We can talk," Takeru said as he got up, rubbing his chest. "I can tell you, brother, if only you would listen."
Yamato shook his head. "You've already tried. You can't make people like me understand through words. I've been in the trade of war too long. I can't make sense of what you're saying, or what you're feeling."
Then the older brother squatted down onto his haunches, and stared into Takeru's eyes. "Show it to me, TK," Yamato said slowly. "I challenge you, warrior to warrior, to the greatest challenge of your life. Meet me in Palas, two weeks from today. Alone, with nothing but your sword. Show me the source of your strength and your peace.
"I've searched for the past six years, ototo-chan, looking for that elusive quality that you have, and I don't. I've trekked across every land and nation, through every city, mountain, vale, village and palace. Six years may not seem much to say, but it was an eternity of uncertain torture for me. And a man can only walk on the razor's edge for so long."
Yamato's eyes were positively burning now. "But one way or another," he said with quiet, burning conviction, "that is going to end two weeks from now. I am tired of searching, Takeru.
"I. Want. It. Too."
Takeru stared back. Despite the situation, he couldn't stop himself from smiling with undisguised joy. "In Palas," he repeated. "Two weeks from today. I will certainly be there, onii-chan."
Yamato smiled, and for an instant, Takeru caught a glimpse of a terrible anguish on his brother's face, as if he was a tortured beggar, craving for a purpose and meaning in life. A warrior without a cause to fight for. The years seemed to melt away from his face until he was once more a confused, five-year-old boy standing in shackles before the Emperor Tichon. Takeru's heart ached for his brother, and he almost reached out to hold him. If only he would listen…
Then the instant was over. Yamato stood up, and dropped Ichibou before Takeru. "Then farewell until then, TK," he said. "I will be waiting…" And he was gone just like the others.
**********
In the secluded forests in the depths of Sheid, Yamato opened his eyes. Readjusting his own cloak, he leaned back against the trunk of the tree he had taken shelter under and sighed. His brother hadn't changed at all. The ever noble Takeru was still as innocent and naïve as ever; he was so idealistic that sometimes Yamato wanted to slap him. If only to put a dent in that aura of arrogance and…and insufferable self-righteousness. That smile, that outstretched hand. Yamato squeezed his eyes shut again as a wave of cold anger swept over him. His mouth tightened as he struggled to overcome the storm of emotions that that simple three minute conversation had stirred up in him.
Beside him his horse whinnied, and Yamato put out a hand to stroke his horse's muzzle as it bent down to graze. He sighed.
"It's almost over, Yerid," he murmured, speaking for his own benefit than for the horse's. "It'll be over in two weeks. Just a little further.
"After all, in two weeks, one of us is going to be dead."
**********
Back in the Perenic thought-plane, Takeru grabbed his sword and sheathed it. Then he staggered upright. Around him, the ruins of Kurtal continued to smoulder. He shook his head to clear it. So, his brother had left Khaydarin. In fact, he had left Khaydarin six years ago. There was hope yet. There was hope. With a slight smile, he closed his eyes and stepped out of the thought-plane.
When he opened his eyes again, he was back in his room in Ardinberg, hunched over in front of the window. Wearily, he straightened up again. As he did so, he noticed a trickle of blood dripping unheeded from the corner of his mouth. Looking down, he saw a spreading red stain on his chest. Pulling out a kerchief from his pocket, he carefully wiped away the stream of blood from his mouth.
"I love you too, onii-chan," he said softly. Then he got up, and walked out of the room. He had work to do.
**Author's notes: Gee, even I'm a little surprised at how quickly I got this chapter up. ^_^
I've got some things to address first.:
First off. (IMPORTANT. READ THIS IF NOTHING ELSE) I was talking to a friend from church the other day, and he reminded me that the validity of some of the Christian things in this fic may be doubtful. So I am going to make this clear once and for all. This is not a Christian fic in the exact meaning of the word. That is, it is not the same genre as books like "Left Behind". This embodies many Christian values that I believe in, and values that can be found in the Bible. The God in this universe merely parallels the God in our universe. So, fellow Christians, do not flame me for blaspheming, or rewriting the gospel, because I AM NOT. I am merely trying to present Christian values in the context of an action / adventure story. Think of "Lord of the Rings", and how there were some hidden Christian values and themes buried in the work, even though it's not overtly Christian.
If anyone wants to talk to me about Christianity, please do not hesitate to contact me by email, or even on MSN.
Second. Don't expect more Takari for a long time yet. The kisses were for Lord Orion, who asked for it. (And my editor, who loved it to bits) ^_^ Reason being? Takeru and Kari don't even meet until at least chapter eight, if not later. Oh, there will be scenes featuring them both of course. In fact, there's a rather prominent scene featuring Kari next chapter. Just…not together. Yet. This is not a romance fic.
Third. Betsy, you're right. Matt is going to become one of the "mains". A very prominent "main". ^_^
Fourth. Please review! See how I respond to them? You never know, you just might change the course of the story. Ideas from interesting ways to craft fight scenes, or creative things stand-masters can do with their stands, or values and themes you think I should incorporate (aside from romance. I've heard enough about romance), or technical stuff like pace (always a big one), mood, setting, description (too flowery? Too short?) etc. etc. Anything is welcome.^_-