UD
First of all, I would like to thank everyone for their feedback.
Of course I know Hotohori ends up with Houki – that was explained quite well in Eikouden.
The big question everyone wants to know right now is why Hotohori's symbol was glowing?
Well, isn't it obvious in such a symbolic series as Fushigi Yuugi?
The most prevalent symbol is the phoenix, Suzaku. Despite all the hardships they endure, they rise once again – just like the phoenix resurrects itself.
I'm simply showing that Suzaku was not entirely sealed away – after all, they did get their powers back. It's a simple case of foreshadowing. Or you can prefer to think that Hotohori is so strong and determined, he is able to make his symbol glow even without the power of Suzaku. This attests to the strength of his noble character and will.
I know I wrote this as an H/M pairing, however, the time frame I've chosen is perilously close to Hotohori's fatal encounter with Nakago. Thus, there will not be much time for romance to develop. In this way I am staying true to Miaka and Tamahome's relationship. This is not angst, I simply want to write about the noble cause Hotohori fought and died for – peace in Miaka's world.
"I will not let you interfere with those two ever again!"
This begins my tribute to the great emperor Saiheitei Hotohori on the day he went out himself and battled for the welfare of Konan, his friends and most of all ...
For Miaka's happiness.
You Are My Universe
Scroll IV – Inner Flame
The sun rose, spilling its glorious light across the world, tearing the black night sky into shades of purple. The light, at the speed of it's namesake, crossed across the land, rolling back the darkness and uncloaking the beauty of the lands that had been shrouded upon nightfall. The dawn turned the grass into a field of emeralds, the tan wheat fields into golden oases, and the red roofs of the Konan Empire into sparking rubies. The sun itself, was a brilliant yellow topaz as it climbed slowly above the horizon, turning the sky from dark blue to purple, and then to soft pinks, reds, and oranges, and finally, as the stars faded and light filled the changing sky, the dark blue diamond shroud of night was exchanged for the brilliant sapphire blue dress of day.
The Emperor of the Konan Empire, Saiheitei Hotohori, watched this beautiful dawn and sighed in resigned longing. He had come to grips with his feelings for Miaka last night, and had decided that although he would always, and could not stop ever loving her, she would forever love only Tamahome. Even though he had longed for her ever since he was a small boy just beginning to understand the duties of an emperor, he had wanted her to surely love him like no other, and see the real him behind the mantle of emperor he wore. Well, she had seen him, he reflected. And yet, she had fallen in love with another. Even.. when he was brainwashed and had come back to kill her, her love for him was so strong she would rather have welcomed death then be without him.
"If it ends your suffering, I won't mind being killed by you. Just please don't ever leave me again."
Her tears, and those profound words were so powerful, not even the ancient curse of Kodoku could withstand it. And against a love that strong, they were truly meant to be together. He wondered if his love for Houki would be as strong someday. His eyes darkened in remembrance.
(Flashback)
"Please, my lord, come with me. Do not fight this war and lose both me and our child. You ... don't have your powers anymore, and the Celestial Warriors of Seiryuu could easily destroy you."
"All of that has previously been advised to me. But I cannot and will not take that advice! His voice rose an octave. "I cannot run or hide in the palace. The people must be defended. I will not let my friends face this peril alone. Do you know that even Miaka is going? She doesn't know what she could possibly do to assist us, but she doesn't care!"
"Is all this still about her?"
"No, Houki. I will not lie. You know I truly did love her. I still love her. But she cannot love me, and I will no longer interfere. I must reconcile myself to friendship, and she is one of the most wonderful friends anyone, let alone an emperor, could have. I swore I would find a way to get her to love me, but it was too late. If I wasn't so blinded by my own love I would have seen it sooner. To answer your question, no, this is not about her. Though it is the Celestial Warrior's duty to die for her, you couldn't say we are Celestial Warriors anymore. But through all our incredible journeys together, we have become stronger. We are a force to be reckoned with. The bonds we share go deeper than friendship, or love. As the Suzaku Seven, our very souls are linked to one another. That is why the most terrible experience any of us had was when Nuriko was slain by Ashitare. That is why each of us is going. Because we don't want that to happen again, and we don't want Konan ravaged by war."
He paused, breathing quietly. Houki regarded him in respectful silence.
"Still, though all those reasons are present, there is still my personal one. I would never live with myself if I didn't go out to defend my home. If I didn't try to stop Kutou at all, that would be much worse. So I will go out, and fight and even die if I have to, to make sure Konan remains peaceful. So our child can grow up knowing peace. So he can grow up at all."
Tears coalesced in Houki's eyes as the full meaning of his strong words reached her. He loved her. She had his child, and he would die to protect them both. Just as he would die for his friends, the Suzaku Seven. It was the same commitment, the same love. It had overwhelmed her. So he truly loved her. He wasn't going to leave her with the child alone ... unless he died in the war. That all encroaching fear had numbed her and forced her to try and persuade him against going out.
But if her fear had been able to hold him back, he would not be Emperor Hotohori, the man she loved for his courage, wisdom and honor.
"I, I just fear for you," she whispered. "I won't ask for promises you may not be able to keep. So I will always be grateful to have been loved by you."
"As I you," he said tenderly.
(Flashback Ends)
Suddenly his door burst open, revealing the fiery orange haired bandit of Mt. Reikaku, the diamond fan wielding Tasuki. His face was flushed red, and he was breathing hard as if he had run a long way.
"Whatever is the matter, Tasuki?" Hotohori asked.
"Mi – Mi – and Ta – Ta –..." Tasuki stuttered, attempting to get coherent words out of his choked throat.
"Slow down, my friend," Hotohori cajoled.
But before Tasuki could get his thoughts in order a hand whipped across his mouth and pulled him from the room. Replaced in the door was the beautiful brown haired goddess of his recent dreams. Much more beautiful in real life, she was illuminated by the just rising sun, setting sparkling crimson highlights through her hair. She was wearing a cream colored nightgown, and the sunlight made it glow gossamer white, like angel's wings. His breath left him, taking in the way the early dawn light shined upon her.
"Mi – aka?" He choked out.
"So sorry about that, Hotohori," she said in her sweet lilting angelic voice. It had lost all traces of the dark stone that had so cowed Hotohori's advisors yesterday. "We couldn't let Tasuki give it away so quickly."
As she said this, her words were punctuated by a distant splashing.
"What is going on, Miaka?" Hotohori asked, genuinely confused.
"Oh, nothing, just playing a game with Tasuki there, she giggled lightly. "Sorry to disturb you."
Before he could protest that she could never disturb him, she was gone.
Sighing over her beauty once more, he walked over to gaze at the beautiful morning vista again.
"GLUB OK! GLUB! I GLUB! BELIE- GLUB! YOU!"
Tamahome took his hands off Tasuki's soaked orange hair and looked with amusement upon his waterlogged friend.
"Honestly, Tasuki, do you really think I would have done THAT?!
Tasuki paused to hack up a ball of water and brushed some damp orange strands out of his eyes.
"Well, it certainly looked –
"I KNOW what it looked like Tasuki, but she was scared. She didn't want to be alone. So I slept with her, but I did not sleep with her!"
Tasuki cleared another ball of water and laughed.
"THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT!" Tamahome roared. He reached out and dunked the bandit again.
"GLUB! ALRIGHT! GLUB! –
Both were interrupted by the soft sound of giggling.
"Gee, Tamahome, don't you think he is clean enough?"
Tamahome, laughed, releasing Tasuki and letting him reemerge. "I suppose so."
"She's right you know. There will be enough time for these shenanigans after we win the battle with Kutou, you know?"
"Chichiri!" Miaka squealed happily, glomping on to the talented monk.
"Greetings to you to, Priestess but Hotohori asked me to gather you all for breakfast – so get dressed already you know?"
"I was dressed..." Tasuki grumbled to himself unhappily as he stalked off to his room.
"We'll be right there." Tamahome told him.
Left alone, Chichiri shook his head in wonder.
"How those two were ever born Suzaku Warriors is beyond me, you know."
They all gathered around the table in Konan's Great Hall for breakfast.
Tasuki was once again presentable. And all the others were eating calmly in thought. The servings were more than they were used to (well, except Miaka) but they would need the energy to fight.
Despite the absolutely glorious day, this was the day of confrontation with the superior Kutou forces.
The land was smaller, but protected naturally by the elements. To reach Konan and army would have to cross treacherous mountain passes and craggy paths. A superior force could be held there easily and worn down – if said superior force did not have the power of Seiryuu on their side. So none of Konan's troops were sent to seal the passes. It would have been futile. The army of Kutou would come, inexorable, powered by the energy of their revived beast deity.
And so the armies of Konan prepared, watchful, waiting for the command to march out and defend their country. There was no doubt in their minds that they would not be led by the great emperor Hotohori, a pillar of strength and conviction for his people. They would not be wrong in that belief.
After breakfast and serene discussion, each went their own way, to do what they had to do to prepare for battle – without the aid of the powers blessed on them by Suzaku.
Hotohori walked into a private courtyard and limbered up, before slipping into the smooth, supple motions of a well practiced kata. His hands and legs flashed in rhythms to confuse and dissuade an imaginary opponent while causing maximum damage to them. Then, in a lightning quick motion, the holy sword given him by Taitsukuun appeared in his hands and flashed in a glowing silver arc of death in the rising sun.
The motion was so smooth and balanced, that the customary ringing of a drawn sword from its sheath had not even been heard.
The sword whirled around him like a living thing. Thrust, riposte, stab, parry, or slash, all merged into a seamless blur of glowing silver.
His kata picked up speed and he moved deftly around the small courtyard, yet his feet made no sound. The only noise was the barely perceptible whoosh of air; a strangled cry of pain as it was cut to ribbons by a silver hurricane of steel.
He stopped near a sturdy oak tree growing beside the path. He whirled to a stop, the holy sword back in it's sheath without a click. Time seemed frozen for a split second, then the tree slowly crashed to the ground, it's thick trunk split in two.
With nary a backwards glance to the devastated tree, he left to saddle and armor his horse.
Chichiri was in the Great Hall where they had eaten earlier. But instead of sumptuous food, the table was now covered with maps and charts showing Konan, its villages and surrounding territories on every scale.
Although Chichiri and Hotohori had pored over maps and discussed tactics and strategy many times, this time Hotohori was preparing to lead the armies of Konan against Kutou personally. He would implement tactics in the field, but because he would be at the forefront of the offensive, he would not be able to see the whole picture as the battle played out. Thus that responsibility squarely fell on Chichiri's shoulders, and bereft of his powers of Suzaku, he would have to do it the old general's way.
Thus, he was looking at the maps, and trying to formulate what Kutou would do.
But despite the armies of Kutou and their three to one odds, Chichiri was aware of a much greater problem that he had chosen not to expound upon for obvious reasons.
Miaka's friend, Yui Hongo, now the Priestess of Seiryuu for Kutou. She still possessed two wishes, and they could be anything save one. Thus, if she simply wished for Konan to fall, it would. With Suzaku unable to interfere, there would be nothing that could stop them. Except perhaps, a desperate hope, or miracle...
"Let's just hope Yui wishes for something else, you know," Chichiri intoned under his breath.
He went back to the maps, fervently hoping any plans would not be futile in the wake of Seiryuu's power.
Tasuki was also practicing his combat moves, but was continuously getting annoyed. He knew the reason he moved slower – his Suzaku blessed speed was gone, as well as the fire from his diamond fan. He would have to fight at normal speed and rely on his other natural gifts to defeat the enemy. He was strong as well as fast, and that is why he felt like he was moving in slow motion. Without his gifted speed, his ungifted strength was overcompensating in control for his body. He turned back to the weapons lying on the walls, looking for something that would help him overcome this unbalancing.
He eyes scanned through the arsenal. The finally stopped upon a small belt of throwing knives. He pulled one out, admiring the small ruby that winked in its hilt. He weighed it carefully, and was pleased to discover they were perfectly balanced. He whirled quickly and threw the tiny blade. It hummed through the air like an angry bee and embedded itself in the head of a straw dummy with a resounding thock.
Thock. Thock. Thock. Thock.
Tasuki smiled and pried loose the thin blades from where they had pulverized the dummy, striking through straw and rubber to pin the dummy's flesh securely to the wood wall behind it. He stepped back and bolted the belt around him, slipping each of the five perfect blades into place.
He thought back to the time that he had chosen this ranged weapon, instead of the bow. Actually he was dismal as an archer. Nothing like the master arrow shot his best friend Koji had turned out to be. However the small quick thrown blades were easy to master, and he soon developed a reputation with being dead on with them. They would have become his primary weapons if his interests in magic had not manifested later.
He laughed richly, bringing him back to the present. His magic was shadow and illusion, and an army of phantom wolves would do little to repel the impending invasion. However, they would be a distraction as he pinned the enemy to his death from behind. He laughed again. He had found a way past his speed versus strength conflict.
The walls of the arsenal, a storage place for the weapons of war to rest after fulfilling their duties of spilling blood and taking life, echoed with the raucous sound of joyous laughter a few moments after the bandit had departed. The lifeless shapes of steel and wood were deaf to the irony of the sound. They abided in the racks as they always had, waiting to be pressed into service once again.
Mitsukake had withdrawn after breakfast to one of the temples that had been converted into a makeshift field hospital. He had realized the need for such when he discovered he was deprived of the powers granted to him. Though of sturdy frame and large composure, Mitsukake was not a warrior in the physical sense. The power granted to him by Suzaku was the ability to heal almost anyone to near perfect condition. He himself had brought the mortally wounded Tamahome back from the brink of death, although Miaka was responsible for the spiritual healing, he had been responsible for the physical aspects of the wound.
A terrible wound it had been, as the blade had gone right through his stomach and out his back, missing his heart and spinal cord by inches. Normally such an injury would require surgery and stitches, and probably would leave a memorable scar. But Mitsukake, blessed with the renewing powers of the phoenix beast deity, could easily regenerate even the most serious physical injuries and restore the body's condition. However, he could only do this once a day, so it's not like he could work miracles on the battlefield and revive an army to fighting trim. His role was support, as important in it's own way as the pure offensive roles of the other Celestial Warriors and the army was in theirs. Both sides combined to form a powerful strategic whole.
But sadly, Suzaku's powers had been sealed away, and just as the others were adjusting to living without their powers, so he too had to resort to more mundane ways of healing the sick and injured that would always result from a war. Thus, the reason for converting this temple. It had been a perfect location in the center of the city, far enough away from the walls and on the main thoroughfare that led to the palace. He had stocked its shelves with medicine and set up cots in the main chamber.
Of course, even when he had had his power he had been bitterly aware of its glaring limitations – most notably, the inability to restore life to the fallen Nuriko. And later, he had been helpless as Chiriko had told him his healing would only revive the evil Miboshi, the bodiless Seiryuu Celestial Warrior that could possess and control anyone, but he had made a fatal mistake in choosing the seemingly naïve and innocent Chiriko.
"You will die with me!"
And so they had, and Mitsukake and all his healing skills could account for nothing.
Mitsukake frowned. "I won't let that happen again," Mitsukake vowed. I will find someway to save the next one, even without the powers of Suzaku. Even when I had them I failed to heal Shoka. I had thought I would have had enough time. If I had known my absence and Shoka's longing would have turned her into the Shikkonki Demon, I would have healed her then. But she hadn't contracted a fever when I last checked before leaving. I thought I could come back and tend her after saving the other. I should have never have left her, and won't repeat the same mistake again.
Now he brooded over the medicines, sorting them for ease of finding them when they were most needed. He had no illusions about the grave crisis of the coming invasion. With such overwhelming numbers added to the power of the Seiryuu Celestial Warriors and their misguided Priestess Yui, the toll exacted on the erstwhile defenders would be horrendous. Mulling over his thoughts, he reached up to pet the furry bundle of brown and white feline perched on his shoulder.
"Let's hope these beds don't fill too quickly today, Tama."
"Meow," the cat voiced in acquiescence as it stretched then curled back into a tight ball perched on the healer's shoulder.
Mitsukake smiled at his furry companion, then went back to examining the many medicines and herbs spread out before him.
Tamahome was not practicing. He was a bare handed, bare bones open style fighter, so there was no weapon skill for him to hone to a fine edge. He had been mildly surprised when his powers manifested themselves in a ball of superheated plasma that burned a chunk right out of Nakago's shoulder. If he wasn't so angry at the time, he would have preferred burning the perpetual smug look of the blonde general into a charred skull caricature, but alas, Nakago had sensed the danger and whirled to face it head on. Tamahome took some satisfaction in seeing the look of surprise on Nakago's face. So even the leader of the Seiryuu Seven could be surprised.
However, no surprises would save him this time. Suzaku was sealed, and with it, all the powers granted to its Celestial Warriors. The army of Kutou was marching towards his homeland, intent on conquering it and utterly claiming the lands it had coveted for so long. His lips turned up in a bitter smile. Perhaps if Kutou itself was not such a war torn land with disputes for supremacy, power, and favor with it's cruel, uncaring emperor, then it would not seek the other prosperous countries' lands so desperately.
He stared deeply into the water running under the bridge, near the same place where he had cared for Miaka's wounded leg. Such a long time ago that had been. So much had happened to them all ... and Nuriko was ... gone.
A single unbidden tear quickly dropped into the smooth water of the river, joining it on its journey to the ocean. The sunlight sparked off the ripples in the current, and Tamahome took a deep breath and steadied himself. 'Nuriko would hate this' he thought wryly. The situation of not having his renowned strength to beat in Tasuki when he erred in tact or to help out around the palace. That hadn't happened however, because Nuriko had ... died.
Nuriko had already given his all, lifting that impossibly huge boulder blocking the entrance to Mt. Black's Shinzaho cave. 'After beating that wolf demon Ashitare', Tamahome soberly thought. 'If he hadn't moved it, then maybe he would have lived. Maybe he would still be with us now. If I hadn't fought with Miaka he wouldn't have told us to leave so he could go off and get the relic alone.' Tamahome sighed. "Too many ifs." What had happened had happened, and Nuriko had fulfilled his destiny and died for his priestess.
Miaka was playfully sneaking up behind Tamahome, but could read from his body language – the slightly slouched posture, his aimless gaze into the water – that he was deep in thought. So she instead quietly laid a hand on his shoulder to bring him gently out of his preoccupation.
Tamahome felt a light, feather soft touch on his shoulder and turned from the water to meet the sparkling emeralds of his beloved Miaka. Miaka frowned as she saw his troubled expression.
"What's wrong, Tamahome?"
"I was ... thinking. About Nuriko. I was thinking if we hadn't argued about what Yui had told me, then he wouldn't have left on his own. And then ... he would still be here with us, all together."
"But ... he is with us, Tamahome. Can't you feel it, here?"
Miaka laid a hand over her heart.
Tamahome smiled. She was awkward, a terrible cook, but she could always say something to lift him out of his mood. It was surprising. When Nuriko died she had shut herself off and was humming to herself. Tamahome had had to drag her back and force her to face the reality of what had happened. Surprising himself too, because he hadn't wanted to acknowledge the horrible truth either. Even with the pain that felt as if a piece of his soul had been ripped right out of him, he hadn't wanted to realize it. No one had.
"You're right Miaka. He is with all of us, in our hearts."
Miaka smiled. To him, it was a radiance that rivaled the brilliant sun overhead.
He wanted to stay here, with her, in this glorious day, and forget about everything else. But such was not to be.
"At last, you know!"
The couple turned to see Chichiri calling across the water from another bridge parallel to theirs.
"What's going on, Chichiri?" Tamahome shouted back.
"Trouble! Our scouts have just sighted the enemy heading this way! The way the runner's message sounded, it seems they didn't leave a single soldier at home you know!"
"We'll be right there!"
Chichiri nodded in acknowledgement then dashed off.
Miaka shook her head, watching him leave on feet.
"Something wrong, Miaka?"
"Oh it's just that I'm not used to seeing Chichiri walk anywhere," she giggled, feeling a bit foolish.
That was alleviated as she saw Tamahome beam at her.
"I don't think he is either."
Despite the urgency, they both laughed as they hurried on.
SN: I was going to make this a huge epic scroll and end it, but there is simply too much to write to flesh out what happened during (Anime) Volume 14, The Fading Light. I hope you have enjoyed my attempts thus far. The reasons why this update has taken two of your human years is that I have changed locations and taken up new duties. The new holdings I am defending don't pay as well, but my strategy is invaluable as they are in a very exposed position. Once their enemies are so many piles of twisted bone and rubble, I'll inevitably move on again. It won't take long. It never does. (Dragon Grin – glittering sharp fangs, maw and all.)
As for the other Champions, their selection has suffered from my absence. Rest assured the legendary ones will be found, and the full power of Suzaku unlocked to ensure Seiryuu's Doom! (the REAL Seiryuu not your friendly dragon author)
Be at peace and enjoy life, for it is what you make it out to be.
Seiryuu's Doom
First of all, I would like to thank everyone for their feedback.
Of course I know Hotohori ends up with Houki – that was explained quite well in Eikouden.
The big question everyone wants to know right now is why Hotohori's symbol was glowing?
Well, isn't it obvious in such a symbolic series as Fushigi Yuugi?
The most prevalent symbol is the phoenix, Suzaku. Despite all the hardships they endure, they rise once again – just like the phoenix resurrects itself.
I'm simply showing that Suzaku was not entirely sealed away – after all, they did get their powers back. It's a simple case of foreshadowing. Or you can prefer to think that Hotohori is so strong and determined, he is able to make his symbol glow even without the power of Suzaku. This attests to the strength of his noble character and will.
I know I wrote this as an H/M pairing, however, the time frame I've chosen is perilously close to Hotohori's fatal encounter with Nakago. Thus, there will not be much time for romance to develop. In this way I am staying true to Miaka and Tamahome's relationship. This is not angst, I simply want to write about the noble cause Hotohori fought and died for – peace in Miaka's world.
"I will not let you interfere with those two ever again!"
This begins my tribute to the great emperor Saiheitei Hotohori on the day he went out himself and battled for the welfare of Konan, his friends and most of all ...
For Miaka's happiness.
You Are My Universe
Scroll IV – Inner Flame
The sun rose, spilling its glorious light across the world, tearing the black night sky into shades of purple. The light, at the speed of it's namesake, crossed across the land, rolling back the darkness and uncloaking the beauty of the lands that had been shrouded upon nightfall. The dawn turned the grass into a field of emeralds, the tan wheat fields into golden oases, and the red roofs of the Konan Empire into sparking rubies. The sun itself, was a brilliant yellow topaz as it climbed slowly above the horizon, turning the sky from dark blue to purple, and then to soft pinks, reds, and oranges, and finally, as the stars faded and light filled the changing sky, the dark blue diamond shroud of night was exchanged for the brilliant sapphire blue dress of day.
The Emperor of the Konan Empire, Saiheitei Hotohori, watched this beautiful dawn and sighed in resigned longing. He had come to grips with his feelings for Miaka last night, and had decided that although he would always, and could not stop ever loving her, she would forever love only Tamahome. Even though he had longed for her ever since he was a small boy just beginning to understand the duties of an emperor, he had wanted her to surely love him like no other, and see the real him behind the mantle of emperor he wore. Well, she had seen him, he reflected. And yet, she had fallen in love with another. Even.. when he was brainwashed and had come back to kill her, her love for him was so strong she would rather have welcomed death then be without him.
"If it ends your suffering, I won't mind being killed by you. Just please don't ever leave me again."
Her tears, and those profound words were so powerful, not even the ancient curse of Kodoku could withstand it. And against a love that strong, they were truly meant to be together. He wondered if his love for Houki would be as strong someday. His eyes darkened in remembrance.
(Flashback)
"Please, my lord, come with me. Do not fight this war and lose both me and our child. You ... don't have your powers anymore, and the Celestial Warriors of Seiryuu could easily destroy you."
"All of that has previously been advised to me. But I cannot and will not take that advice! His voice rose an octave. "I cannot run or hide in the palace. The people must be defended. I will not let my friends face this peril alone. Do you know that even Miaka is going? She doesn't know what she could possibly do to assist us, but she doesn't care!"
"Is all this still about her?"
"No, Houki. I will not lie. You know I truly did love her. I still love her. But she cannot love me, and I will no longer interfere. I must reconcile myself to friendship, and she is one of the most wonderful friends anyone, let alone an emperor, could have. I swore I would find a way to get her to love me, but it was too late. If I wasn't so blinded by my own love I would have seen it sooner. To answer your question, no, this is not about her. Though it is the Celestial Warrior's duty to die for her, you couldn't say we are Celestial Warriors anymore. But through all our incredible journeys together, we have become stronger. We are a force to be reckoned with. The bonds we share go deeper than friendship, or love. As the Suzaku Seven, our very souls are linked to one another. That is why the most terrible experience any of us had was when Nuriko was slain by Ashitare. That is why each of us is going. Because we don't want that to happen again, and we don't want Konan ravaged by war."
He paused, breathing quietly. Houki regarded him in respectful silence.
"Still, though all those reasons are present, there is still my personal one. I would never live with myself if I didn't go out to defend my home. If I didn't try to stop Kutou at all, that would be much worse. So I will go out, and fight and even die if I have to, to make sure Konan remains peaceful. So our child can grow up knowing peace. So he can grow up at all."
Tears coalesced in Houki's eyes as the full meaning of his strong words reached her. He loved her. She had his child, and he would die to protect them both. Just as he would die for his friends, the Suzaku Seven. It was the same commitment, the same love. It had overwhelmed her. So he truly loved her. He wasn't going to leave her with the child alone ... unless he died in the war. That all encroaching fear had numbed her and forced her to try and persuade him against going out.
But if her fear had been able to hold him back, he would not be Emperor Hotohori, the man she loved for his courage, wisdom and honor.
"I, I just fear for you," she whispered. "I won't ask for promises you may not be able to keep. So I will always be grateful to have been loved by you."
"As I you," he said tenderly.
(Flashback Ends)
Suddenly his door burst open, revealing the fiery orange haired bandit of Mt. Reikaku, the diamond fan wielding Tasuki. His face was flushed red, and he was breathing hard as if he had run a long way.
"Whatever is the matter, Tasuki?" Hotohori asked.
"Mi – Mi – and Ta – Ta –..." Tasuki stuttered, attempting to get coherent words out of his choked throat.
"Slow down, my friend," Hotohori cajoled.
But before Tasuki could get his thoughts in order a hand whipped across his mouth and pulled him from the room. Replaced in the door was the beautiful brown haired goddess of his recent dreams. Much more beautiful in real life, she was illuminated by the just rising sun, setting sparkling crimson highlights through her hair. She was wearing a cream colored nightgown, and the sunlight made it glow gossamer white, like angel's wings. His breath left him, taking in the way the early dawn light shined upon her.
"Mi – aka?" He choked out.
"So sorry about that, Hotohori," she said in her sweet lilting angelic voice. It had lost all traces of the dark stone that had so cowed Hotohori's advisors yesterday. "We couldn't let Tasuki give it away so quickly."
As she said this, her words were punctuated by a distant splashing.
"What is going on, Miaka?" Hotohori asked, genuinely confused.
"Oh, nothing, just playing a game with Tasuki there, she giggled lightly. "Sorry to disturb you."
Before he could protest that she could never disturb him, she was gone.
Sighing over her beauty once more, he walked over to gaze at the beautiful morning vista again.
"GLUB OK! GLUB! I GLUB! BELIE- GLUB! YOU!"
Tamahome took his hands off Tasuki's soaked orange hair and looked with amusement upon his waterlogged friend.
"Honestly, Tasuki, do you really think I would have done THAT?!
Tasuki paused to hack up a ball of water and brushed some damp orange strands out of his eyes.
"Well, it certainly looked –
"I KNOW what it looked like Tasuki, but she was scared. She didn't want to be alone. So I slept with her, but I did not sleep with her!"
Tasuki cleared another ball of water and laughed.
"THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT!" Tamahome roared. He reached out and dunked the bandit again.
"GLUB! ALRIGHT! GLUB! –
Both were interrupted by the soft sound of giggling.
"Gee, Tamahome, don't you think he is clean enough?"
Tamahome, laughed, releasing Tasuki and letting him reemerge. "I suppose so."
"She's right you know. There will be enough time for these shenanigans after we win the battle with Kutou, you know?"
"Chichiri!" Miaka squealed happily, glomping on to the talented monk.
"Greetings to you to, Priestess but Hotohori asked me to gather you all for breakfast – so get dressed already you know?"
"I was dressed..." Tasuki grumbled to himself unhappily as he stalked off to his room.
"We'll be right there." Tamahome told him.
Left alone, Chichiri shook his head in wonder.
"How those two were ever born Suzaku Warriors is beyond me, you know."
They all gathered around the table in Konan's Great Hall for breakfast.
Tasuki was once again presentable. And all the others were eating calmly in thought. The servings were more than they were used to (well, except Miaka) but they would need the energy to fight.
Despite the absolutely glorious day, this was the day of confrontation with the superior Kutou forces.
The land was smaller, but protected naturally by the elements. To reach Konan and army would have to cross treacherous mountain passes and craggy paths. A superior force could be held there easily and worn down – if said superior force did not have the power of Seiryuu on their side. So none of Konan's troops were sent to seal the passes. It would have been futile. The army of Kutou would come, inexorable, powered by the energy of their revived beast deity.
And so the armies of Konan prepared, watchful, waiting for the command to march out and defend their country. There was no doubt in their minds that they would not be led by the great emperor Hotohori, a pillar of strength and conviction for his people. They would not be wrong in that belief.
After breakfast and serene discussion, each went their own way, to do what they had to do to prepare for battle – without the aid of the powers blessed on them by Suzaku.
Hotohori walked into a private courtyard and limbered up, before slipping into the smooth, supple motions of a well practiced kata. His hands and legs flashed in rhythms to confuse and dissuade an imaginary opponent while causing maximum damage to them. Then, in a lightning quick motion, the holy sword given him by Taitsukuun appeared in his hands and flashed in a glowing silver arc of death in the rising sun.
The motion was so smooth and balanced, that the customary ringing of a drawn sword from its sheath had not even been heard.
The sword whirled around him like a living thing. Thrust, riposte, stab, parry, or slash, all merged into a seamless blur of glowing silver.
His kata picked up speed and he moved deftly around the small courtyard, yet his feet made no sound. The only noise was the barely perceptible whoosh of air; a strangled cry of pain as it was cut to ribbons by a silver hurricane of steel.
He stopped near a sturdy oak tree growing beside the path. He whirled to a stop, the holy sword back in it's sheath without a click. Time seemed frozen for a split second, then the tree slowly crashed to the ground, it's thick trunk split in two.
With nary a backwards glance to the devastated tree, he left to saddle and armor his horse.
Chichiri was in the Great Hall where they had eaten earlier. But instead of sumptuous food, the table was now covered with maps and charts showing Konan, its villages and surrounding territories on every scale.
Although Chichiri and Hotohori had pored over maps and discussed tactics and strategy many times, this time Hotohori was preparing to lead the armies of Konan against Kutou personally. He would implement tactics in the field, but because he would be at the forefront of the offensive, he would not be able to see the whole picture as the battle played out. Thus that responsibility squarely fell on Chichiri's shoulders, and bereft of his powers of Suzaku, he would have to do it the old general's way.
Thus, he was looking at the maps, and trying to formulate what Kutou would do.
But despite the armies of Kutou and their three to one odds, Chichiri was aware of a much greater problem that he had chosen not to expound upon for obvious reasons.
Miaka's friend, Yui Hongo, now the Priestess of Seiryuu for Kutou. She still possessed two wishes, and they could be anything save one. Thus, if she simply wished for Konan to fall, it would. With Suzaku unable to interfere, there would be nothing that could stop them. Except perhaps, a desperate hope, or miracle...
"Let's just hope Yui wishes for something else, you know," Chichiri intoned under his breath.
He went back to the maps, fervently hoping any plans would not be futile in the wake of Seiryuu's power.
Tasuki was also practicing his combat moves, but was continuously getting annoyed. He knew the reason he moved slower – his Suzaku blessed speed was gone, as well as the fire from his diamond fan. He would have to fight at normal speed and rely on his other natural gifts to defeat the enemy. He was strong as well as fast, and that is why he felt like he was moving in slow motion. Without his gifted speed, his ungifted strength was overcompensating in control for his body. He turned back to the weapons lying on the walls, looking for something that would help him overcome this unbalancing.
He eyes scanned through the arsenal. The finally stopped upon a small belt of throwing knives. He pulled one out, admiring the small ruby that winked in its hilt. He weighed it carefully, and was pleased to discover they were perfectly balanced. He whirled quickly and threw the tiny blade. It hummed through the air like an angry bee and embedded itself in the head of a straw dummy with a resounding thock.
Thock. Thock. Thock. Thock.
Tasuki smiled and pried loose the thin blades from where they had pulverized the dummy, striking through straw and rubber to pin the dummy's flesh securely to the wood wall behind it. He stepped back and bolted the belt around him, slipping each of the five perfect blades into place.
He thought back to the time that he had chosen this ranged weapon, instead of the bow. Actually he was dismal as an archer. Nothing like the master arrow shot his best friend Koji had turned out to be. However the small quick thrown blades were easy to master, and he soon developed a reputation with being dead on with them. They would have become his primary weapons if his interests in magic had not manifested later.
He laughed richly, bringing him back to the present. His magic was shadow and illusion, and an army of phantom wolves would do little to repel the impending invasion. However, they would be a distraction as he pinned the enemy to his death from behind. He laughed again. He had found a way past his speed versus strength conflict.
The walls of the arsenal, a storage place for the weapons of war to rest after fulfilling their duties of spilling blood and taking life, echoed with the raucous sound of joyous laughter a few moments after the bandit had departed. The lifeless shapes of steel and wood were deaf to the irony of the sound. They abided in the racks as they always had, waiting to be pressed into service once again.
Mitsukake had withdrawn after breakfast to one of the temples that had been converted into a makeshift field hospital. He had realized the need for such when he discovered he was deprived of the powers granted to him. Though of sturdy frame and large composure, Mitsukake was not a warrior in the physical sense. The power granted to him by Suzaku was the ability to heal almost anyone to near perfect condition. He himself had brought the mortally wounded Tamahome back from the brink of death, although Miaka was responsible for the spiritual healing, he had been responsible for the physical aspects of the wound.
A terrible wound it had been, as the blade had gone right through his stomach and out his back, missing his heart and spinal cord by inches. Normally such an injury would require surgery and stitches, and probably would leave a memorable scar. But Mitsukake, blessed with the renewing powers of the phoenix beast deity, could easily regenerate even the most serious physical injuries and restore the body's condition. However, he could only do this once a day, so it's not like he could work miracles on the battlefield and revive an army to fighting trim. His role was support, as important in it's own way as the pure offensive roles of the other Celestial Warriors and the army was in theirs. Both sides combined to form a powerful strategic whole.
But sadly, Suzaku's powers had been sealed away, and just as the others were adjusting to living without their powers, so he too had to resort to more mundane ways of healing the sick and injured that would always result from a war. Thus, the reason for converting this temple. It had been a perfect location in the center of the city, far enough away from the walls and on the main thoroughfare that led to the palace. He had stocked its shelves with medicine and set up cots in the main chamber.
Of course, even when he had had his power he had been bitterly aware of its glaring limitations – most notably, the inability to restore life to the fallen Nuriko. And later, he had been helpless as Chiriko had told him his healing would only revive the evil Miboshi, the bodiless Seiryuu Celestial Warrior that could possess and control anyone, but he had made a fatal mistake in choosing the seemingly naïve and innocent Chiriko.
"You will die with me!"
And so they had, and Mitsukake and all his healing skills could account for nothing.
Mitsukake frowned. "I won't let that happen again," Mitsukake vowed. I will find someway to save the next one, even without the powers of Suzaku. Even when I had them I failed to heal Shoka. I had thought I would have had enough time. If I had known my absence and Shoka's longing would have turned her into the Shikkonki Demon, I would have healed her then. But she hadn't contracted a fever when I last checked before leaving. I thought I could come back and tend her after saving the other. I should have never have left her, and won't repeat the same mistake again.
Now he brooded over the medicines, sorting them for ease of finding them when they were most needed. He had no illusions about the grave crisis of the coming invasion. With such overwhelming numbers added to the power of the Seiryuu Celestial Warriors and their misguided Priestess Yui, the toll exacted on the erstwhile defenders would be horrendous. Mulling over his thoughts, he reached up to pet the furry bundle of brown and white feline perched on his shoulder.
"Let's hope these beds don't fill too quickly today, Tama."
"Meow," the cat voiced in acquiescence as it stretched then curled back into a tight ball perched on the healer's shoulder.
Mitsukake smiled at his furry companion, then went back to examining the many medicines and herbs spread out before him.
Tamahome was not practicing. He was a bare handed, bare bones open style fighter, so there was no weapon skill for him to hone to a fine edge. He had been mildly surprised when his powers manifested themselves in a ball of superheated plasma that burned a chunk right out of Nakago's shoulder. If he wasn't so angry at the time, he would have preferred burning the perpetual smug look of the blonde general into a charred skull caricature, but alas, Nakago had sensed the danger and whirled to face it head on. Tamahome took some satisfaction in seeing the look of surprise on Nakago's face. So even the leader of the Seiryuu Seven could be surprised.
However, no surprises would save him this time. Suzaku was sealed, and with it, all the powers granted to its Celestial Warriors. The army of Kutou was marching towards his homeland, intent on conquering it and utterly claiming the lands it had coveted for so long. His lips turned up in a bitter smile. Perhaps if Kutou itself was not such a war torn land with disputes for supremacy, power, and favor with it's cruel, uncaring emperor, then it would not seek the other prosperous countries' lands so desperately.
He stared deeply into the water running under the bridge, near the same place where he had cared for Miaka's wounded leg. Such a long time ago that had been. So much had happened to them all ... and Nuriko was ... gone.
A single unbidden tear quickly dropped into the smooth water of the river, joining it on its journey to the ocean. The sunlight sparked off the ripples in the current, and Tamahome took a deep breath and steadied himself. 'Nuriko would hate this' he thought wryly. The situation of not having his renowned strength to beat in Tasuki when he erred in tact or to help out around the palace. That hadn't happened however, because Nuriko had ... died.
Nuriko had already given his all, lifting that impossibly huge boulder blocking the entrance to Mt. Black's Shinzaho cave. 'After beating that wolf demon Ashitare', Tamahome soberly thought. 'If he hadn't moved it, then maybe he would have lived. Maybe he would still be with us now. If I hadn't fought with Miaka he wouldn't have told us to leave so he could go off and get the relic alone.' Tamahome sighed. "Too many ifs." What had happened had happened, and Nuriko had fulfilled his destiny and died for his priestess.
Miaka was playfully sneaking up behind Tamahome, but could read from his body language – the slightly slouched posture, his aimless gaze into the water – that he was deep in thought. So she instead quietly laid a hand on his shoulder to bring him gently out of his preoccupation.
Tamahome felt a light, feather soft touch on his shoulder and turned from the water to meet the sparkling emeralds of his beloved Miaka. Miaka frowned as she saw his troubled expression.
"What's wrong, Tamahome?"
"I was ... thinking. About Nuriko. I was thinking if we hadn't argued about what Yui had told me, then he wouldn't have left on his own. And then ... he would still be here with us, all together."
"But ... he is with us, Tamahome. Can't you feel it, here?"
Miaka laid a hand over her heart.
Tamahome smiled. She was awkward, a terrible cook, but she could always say something to lift him out of his mood. It was surprising. When Nuriko died she had shut herself off and was humming to herself. Tamahome had had to drag her back and force her to face the reality of what had happened. Surprising himself too, because he hadn't wanted to acknowledge the horrible truth either. Even with the pain that felt as if a piece of his soul had been ripped right out of him, he hadn't wanted to realize it. No one had.
"You're right Miaka. He is with all of us, in our hearts."
Miaka smiled. To him, it was a radiance that rivaled the brilliant sun overhead.
He wanted to stay here, with her, in this glorious day, and forget about everything else. But such was not to be.
"At last, you know!"
The couple turned to see Chichiri calling across the water from another bridge parallel to theirs.
"What's going on, Chichiri?" Tamahome shouted back.
"Trouble! Our scouts have just sighted the enemy heading this way! The way the runner's message sounded, it seems they didn't leave a single soldier at home you know!"
"We'll be right there!"
Chichiri nodded in acknowledgement then dashed off.
Miaka shook her head, watching him leave on feet.
"Something wrong, Miaka?"
"Oh it's just that I'm not used to seeing Chichiri walk anywhere," she giggled, feeling a bit foolish.
That was alleviated as she saw Tamahome beam at her.
"I don't think he is either."
Despite the urgency, they both laughed as they hurried on.
SN: I was going to make this a huge epic scroll and end it, but there is simply too much to write to flesh out what happened during (Anime) Volume 14, The Fading Light. I hope you have enjoyed my attempts thus far. The reasons why this update has taken two of your human years is that I have changed locations and taken up new duties. The new holdings I am defending don't pay as well, but my strategy is invaluable as they are in a very exposed position. Once their enemies are so many piles of twisted bone and rubble, I'll inevitably move on again. It won't take long. It never does. (Dragon Grin – glittering sharp fangs, maw and all.)
As for the other Champions, their selection has suffered from my absence. Rest assured the legendary ones will be found, and the full power of Suzaku unlocked to ensure Seiryuu's Doom! (the REAL Seiryuu not your friendly dragon author)
Be at peace and enjoy life, for it is what you make it out to be.
Seiryuu's Doom