Chapter 1: Denials of Reality

I woke up to a brisk morning, where the rays of an early sunrise shone warmly on my face, flushing my cheeks with a natural blush, and the light breeze of dawn chased away the lingering images of dreams that were playing behind my closed eyelids. I felt a gentle hand, with skin as soft as the pedals of ivory that grew in the Shrine of Leviathan, smoothing away the locks of serrated bangs that lay limp against my forehead. I felt the thin silk fabric of my garbs tugged at the sleeve just above my wrist, and a melodic voice, as harmonious as the song birds that chirp in the Shrine of Quezocotle, urging me to open my eyes and welcome the new day. I felt myself stirring about beneath my quilted sheets until the sleep from my eyes surrendered to the ever persuasive voice that was determined to get me out of bed.

I felt myself opening my eyes. Blind sighted from the sun that was already glaring harshly through the gold-trimmed velvet curtains, I discovered she had pulled them open enough to partially reveal the doorway to my private balcony. I gave her an annoyed look for waking me up at the crack of dawn, and she gave me a stern look for my lack of discipline. I giggled at her attempt to keep a straight face before she exploded into her dignified laughter, one of such poise and grace of a true Huong.

I sat up to wrap my arms around her thin figure to bid her good morning before she dragged me to my bath where the water was warm and salted with iris fragrances whose scent reminded me always of the Garden's floral maze. I felt her rinsing my ragged hair and lathering my skin with a bar of soap that included a special blend of organic ginger and juice of cucumber to keep its complexion clear. I watched her take my silver comb through each lock of my tangled hair with such care that after thousands of strokes, my dark brown hair was straight and appeared glossy in the light. Afterward, she wrapped me in my silk robes before taking me to the stables where a carriage waited to take me to my homemaking lessons at the Convent in the eastern province of the village.

I saw her stand at the gateway as two stallions pulled the carriage bumpily down the road. I leaned out the open window and waved graciously at her, and watched her wave back with a smile on her face. I leaned back on the cushioned seat and looked down the road my stallions were taking me through. I sighed gently. This was just another day.

I slowly peeled my eyes open half expecting for the blazing sun to blind me, but for some reason, the curtains were closed. "Huh?" I said in confusion. I propped myself onto my elbows and felt my eyes wandering around my chambers. I was sleeping in the same bed in the same room, but something was different…something was missing. Suddenly, the woman's face flashed in my mind. "Mother?" I called out. I crawled out from under my sheets and shuffled to the bathroom. Pushing open the door, I expected to see my warm bath and my nose filling with the scent of salted iris, but the granite tub was empty and dry. My eyes squinted in confusion. "It can't be…" I whispered. I felt my legs soar like eagles' wings and took me out from my chambers and down the red decorative rug that muffled my steps on the hardwood floors. I stumbled down the spiral steps with my small hands gripping the rail as I kept praying that I do not find what I seek. I sprinted into the grand hall and decided to take the corridors of the East Wing to get out. Before I could turn the corner, a dark figure towered over me, and I was unable to stop myself from crashing into it.

"Mina!" a deep voice boomed from the top of the spiral steps. I knew that voice. Stretching my neck, I looked up and saw my father, Lord Huong, leaning over the banister in displeasure. He seemed to have woken up fairly recently for his sleeping garbs still drape the limbs of his built body beneath his gold trimmed robe. He banged his fist against the handrail. "Must I send you back to the Convent? Behave yourself!"

I flinched at his harsh tone and at the threat of going back to the Convent. If there was something I ever disliked, it was those cursed classes at the Convents I detested with all of my being. Then, two strong arms reached down to pull my tiny frame back onto my feet. They were muscular and sun soaked arms. I knew those arms. Craning my neck, I saw that it was Mitsurugi, the General of the Dynasty's combat men and the Master of the Huong Dojo. I knew he had to have been up hours ahead of my awakening because he was already armored and usually has his morning duties to tend to.

"Rambunctious as always," Mitsurugi sighed with discontent. He bent down to my level. "Young one, you should be more careful from now on. It is unladylike to race through the halls like that."

I let out a heavy sigh of impatience. "Father, I did not see mother in my chambers this morning. Where is she?" I ignored Mitsurugi. I saw my father's body stiffen. No, it can't be…I denied. "Answer me! Why won't you answer me?" I glared at him through my teary eyes.

Regaining his composure, my father glared right back. "You dare give orders to your father? To raise your voice! Have you forgotten your place?"

"Young one, please do not upset Lord Huong," Mitsurugi interrupted quietly.

I turned away from my father and looked up at Mitsurugi. "Then answer me!" I demanded again, yet even he turned away and refused to tell me. "Is it because I am a child? You honor every code my father bids you and you honor the sword that never deserts your side, yet you are incapable of treating me as I wish to be treated!"

"Mina…" he began.

I did not wait for his answer and ran off towards the East Wing corridors. Mitsurugi looked up questioningly at Lord Huong, and he nodded in approval to follow me. I heard the man call my name, but I refused to look back at him. I felt my legs carrying me through a direction that felt terribly familiar…too familiar. After winding my way through the Eastern Garden's maze, I soon found myself in the Shrine of Leviathan, where my mother planted the most beautiful flowers in the Dynasty, her favorite being white ivory and purple iris. The strong scent that my nose has come to know so well stung in my eyes as they welled up in tears. I was up earlier than usual, as I finally realized that the sun had not risen yet. It was still quite lit in the garden though, with a soft glowing light that told me sunrise was just a heartbeat away.

Wiping the streaming tears from my cheeks, I slowly made my way through the Shrine's stone walk. Upon the site of a beautiful fountain, I knew that I had finally reached the heart of the Shrine. At the center of it stood the great statue of Leviathan, who in legend was told to be the Guardian of Water that nurtured and protected Mother Nature. My mother always liked this masterpiece above all else within our Dynasty's walls, for she had a connection with nature. "Mother?" I called out. "Mother, are you here? Please answer me…" I forced myself to walk around the fountain and through a quiet passageway that led up stone steps into a clearing. When I climbed my final step, I nearly fainted at the sight of my mother's grave.

"Oh!" I sobbed. "Oh, mother!" I fell down on my knees and put my palms together as I bent down and bowed with respect to the epitaph with my mother's name engraved into it. In the corners, carvings of her favorite flowers decorated the gray stone. I felt my fingers tracing the calligraphy as more tears spilled from my eyes. "Mother, why… why did you leave me?"

Suddenly, the tip of her gravestone was lit up in an orange glow. I turned and saw the sun rise behind Mitsurugi's figure. He stood there for a moment before making his way to my mother's grave and bowed just as I had. "Lady Huong…" he sighed sadly.

I sniffed and wiped my tears with the back of my hand as I watched the sun come up. "We sat right here, right on these steps, mother and I. We'd come here early mornings when I didn't have to attend my classes at the Convent. She once told me that if she were ever to pass away, she wanted her grave to be right here, so that her spirit may watch the sun rise over the horizon," I paused. Standing up, I walked over to a wooden pole that supported the roof that protected my mother's gravesite and leaned on it. "She used to open my curtains every morning, to wake the sleep from my eyes. Crazy lady, did she wish to blind me?" I gave a small laugh. "But she told me, that when… if… she left, she wanted me to keep my curtains open, so that when the sun shines through my windows, it'll be her, waking me up."

I stopped then and felt myself sink to the ground hugging the large pole as I sobbed in my own misery. I heard Mitsurugi stir from behind me, and soon I found him seated to my left with a heavy hand on my shoulder. "Mina, this isn't the first morning you've woken without Lady Huong at your side. What is it child?"

"Stop calling me a child!" I shrieked. "Young this, child that… I'm sick of it! I have no mother, and all father does is care for Killik because he's a boy! I am left to fend for myself, so why, Rugi, why do you insist on calling me a child!"

He sighed. Rugi was a nickname I called him since I was too young to remember. His name wasn't quite rolling off my tongue right, so he allowed that I be the only one to degrade his character by calling him by such a name. "Mina, I understand your grief for Lady Huong's passing, but—

"No! You don't understand how I feel at all!" I shouted.

"But I do!" he retorted. "Have you forgotten my reason being here?"

I suddenly remembered and mentally slapped myself for not remembering sooner. Mitsurugi came a long way from the time he first arrived at my father's doorstep. He was young and inexperienced, as shown in his frail body and virgin eyes. His only family had been slain without mercy by the Shinma, and he was bloodthirsty for revenge. Somehow, my father saw potential in this young man, and took him under his wing. My father enrolled him into the special training facilities that were operated within the walls of our Dynasty, where Mitsurugi gained his amazing flexibility and endurance. The training advanced and soon he built a body that possessed incredible body mass and muscles strong enough to resist the pull of our stallions when handling them became difficult. And as Mitsurugi's training was going on to higher levels, my father had taught him how to fight with his mind and body, as well as how to wield the sword he now carries in its sheath at this very moment.

Seasons blurred into each other and soon years had passed. Mitsurugi's desire for retribution began to dissipate with each strike of his broadsword, as my father taught him the ways of humanity and of the destruction that he is capable of bringing to himself with poisonous emotions such as hatred and anger. My father taught him the implication of forgiveness and the significance of the honor of a true warrior. And with that, Mitsurugi has become not only our Dynasty's General, but a Master in the Dojo that passes on my father's teachings to those that carry such emotions and burdens that he once carried himself as a young man.

He was a man of position and importance in our Dynasty that I suspected to be fierce in battle and fearless towards his enemy, but here he stands before me, and I can recognize the gentleness of humanity in his eyes still, and I can only pray that my brother will follow in Mitsurugi's steps and resist whatever darkness becoming a warrior may bring to him. Towering over me, Mitsurugi bent down on one knee and shoved away a stray strand of his ravenous black hair from his eyes as he put his sword down.

"I'm sorry Rugi, I was out of line."

"It's all right, Mina," he told me. "I do understand how you feel. But you need to learn to let go, or else you will never move on with your life, and you will never find peace within your own spirit. Your father taught me about the destruction my own fiery would bring to my soul, and I know that he does not wish that of you."

"But how do you know?" I asked. "He's so busy preparing Killik to be our next Lord that he forgotten all about me!"

"I know, Mina," he said. "But I've known your father much longer than you've been in this world, and believe me. He cares about you and your well-being."

"Then why doesn't he show it?" I whispered bitterly.

"Because he has faith in you," Mitsurugi told me. "You ask not to be treated as a child, and he is giving you that treatment. You question your own strength whereas he does not. He feels he shouldn't baby you and that you should be raised to take care of yourself and your own emotions."

"But that's not fair!" I cried. "How can he expect me to take care of myself if I'm—

"If you're only a child," he finished.

I looked up at him through my bloodshot eyes and my tearstained skin. I didn't know whether to slap him or to hold onto his reassuring hand. Taking a deep breath, I said, "I guess I am then."