Whew…this is taking more out of me than I'd expected, ya know? I'm not used to trying to keep pace with several stories… Still, it's fun. I just have to remember not to let them get too far behind. If I do, I apologize. Being in college, I have a lot of work to do.
Okay. I read through that last chapter, and realized my style shifted partway through. Again, I apologize – it takes me a little while to get set in a style with a particular story. Bear with me! I'm getting into it with this chapter. (kay… I wrote this intro nearly a year ago, so this chapter will probably be different from what I intended. And as for the style... who knows? )
Disclaimer: Fushigi Yugi is not mine. Never was, never will be. sobs
MegamiNoTsuki: Thanks bunches. You'll have to let me know if I manage to keep it feeling like a real setting. Since I wrote that last chapter, my writing has changed a great deal.
Sesshomaruslover18: Thanks! Here 'tis. (I'd actually updated before you reviewed, but it hadn't shown up on yet. :laughs: Oh, gotta love the time delay…)
Chapter 2: The Priest of Suzaku?!
A young man wandered into a village some distance inside the Hong-Nan border just as the morning rays of the sun started to slant through the bright spring growth on the trees. He stopped and looked around, as if uncertain it was actually real. The smell of food caught his attention, and he noticed a stall not too far off selling – hot food, he hoped. He started towards it, digging into his pack for some coins. The man at the stall regarded the boy with curiosity. From the look of him, he was obviously a stranger to the country, and had traveled a long way. The visitor was too intent on filling his empty stomach to notice the odd looks he received.
When he was finished, he returned the bowl to the vendor with a nod of thanks. "Could you tell me," he asked, then, "if there is any place in this village where I might buy a bow and some arrows?"
The man shook his head. "Not here, lad. None of any quality, anyways. We're too small and out of the way to warrant any real craftsmen. Next town, though, on down the road a few days, is a bit larger, and might have what you're after."
Again the youth thanked him. Turning to start on his way, something caught his attention. He paused, looking around, trying to figure out what it was. At first he thought it was something he'd heard or seen, but nothing presented itself. After a few moments, he realized with some surprise that the distraction had been something he had felt, or sensed, and was still there. Having never experienced any such thing before, and being completely unaware that he could, this was quite a discovery.
"You alright, lad?" The food vender asked.
He nodded. "Yes. Fine, thanks…" And with a somewhat distant air he started out of the village. Glancing back as he left, he noticed a boy, who looked to be about his own age, watching him intently. Though he felt somewhat silly, as soon as he was out of sight of the village he left the road, walking through the woods a stone's throw away instead. For some reason, he was strangely unnerved, and highly suspicious.
The odd feeling faded a little but didn't leave, and it didn't take him long to realize he was being followed.
Annoyed, he stopped, crept back to the road and climbed into a tree, careful to keep himself concealed, but still able to see the road. The strange feeling grew, and it wasn't long before someone came into view.
It was the boy who had been watching him in town.
Why on earth would he be following me? This prompted the thought that maybe he wasn't – maybe he just happened to be going the same direction.
The boy passed the tree, continued a few paces, and then stopped, frowning. He looked around, appearing completely at a loss.
From his vantage point, the stranger scowled, trying to cover fright with anger. The boy could apparently sense him, too. What was going on? As soundlessly as possible, he dropped from the tree, and stepped out onto the road behind the boy. "You followed me. Why?"
The boy whirled, wide-eyed. "What?"
"If you're looking for easy pickings, someone to rob, you'd better look elsewhere." It was a bluff, but he doubted this boy realized that.
That seemed to relive some of the boy's surprise. "I'm not after your money."
"Then what do you want?" The traveler spoke sharply, hoping the boy would give up whatever he was after.
"A moment of your time. To talk. That's all."
"Oh." What could he say to that? It was certainly unexpected. "Where are you heading?"
"Well, as you so astutely pointed out, I was following you." He paused and frowned at the stranger. He had a pleasant, cheerful face, and the thoughtful frown seemed out of place. "I suppose I am heading toward the capitol."
"Then we'd best talk and walk." He started along the road once more, and the boy fell easily in step beside him. The boy was taller, though younger than the stranger had first thought.
Despite the boy wanting to talk, they walked in silence for some minutes. The only sounds were their footfalls, and birds and the wind in the trees.
What does he want? The stranger broke the silence first, more politely that he had originally planned. "What is your name?"
"Ji-Shin. Yours?"
"I'm called Houshun." There was another long pause. "What did you want to say?" He looked sidelong at Ji-Shin, who seemed to struggle with his answer. "It had best be good. I was not anticipating – or even really wanting – company on this journey."
The boy nodded. "You will not believe it, I imagine."
"That's beside the point."
Ji-Shin glanced at Houshun, then peered up at the trees. "Is it?"
Houshun snorted. "We won't know until you tell me, now will we?"
"Perhaps not." Again, there was silence, but this time Houshun recognized that the boy was going to speak this time. "Do you know of the Four Gods?"
"Doesn't everyone?" he replied dryly.
"Generally, yes. But not always those who come here from…other places."
Houshun kept his expression carefully neutral. "How do you mean? What sort of places?"
The boy bit his lip, and Houshun surreptitiously studied his profile. Ji-Shin's dark green eyes were large and wide-set, making him look incredibly innocent, and his brown hair was pulled into a long tail at the crown of his head, rather than tied into the bun that seemed more common on males. It's very possible, Houshun thought, that boy is slightly older than he looks. Not quite my age – he doesn't even look more than a tall twelve. He might be as old as fourteen, but those eyes make him look like child…
"Places you cannot reach over land," he answered at last.
"Ah, but I came here from Qu-Dong. What does that do to your theory?"
Ji-Shin snorted. "You may have come to this country from Qu-Dong, but you aren't actually from there." He looked at Houshun. "Or even from the small country beyond Qu-Dong, where people have blonde hair and blue eyes, even as you do."
Houshun frowned. "You're assuming quite a lot. How do you know I didn't come from there?"
"Your accent is strange to me." The boy spoke frankly, with no hint of boast in his voice. "I know the speech patterns of every area in this part of the world, from the northernmost tribe of Bei-Jia to the nomads who roam the Western desert, to the pirates who prowl the coasts. You I cannot place." He smiled. "No, I believe you have come here from elsewhere."
"Where else is there?" He was astonished. How could the youth know so much?
"There are other worlds that brush against this one. From time to time a stranger will fall out of their own land into this one. And vice versa."
Houshun could think of nothing to say. Once more they walked in silence. The sun was high and hot on their necks before he could bring himself to speak again.
"Say you were right, and I was from such a place. What would that mean?"
Ji-Shin slowly shook his head. "Truth, I do not know… But I would travel to the capitol with you, if you so permit. Perhaps there we can both find out what it means. Or perhaps the answer will come to us along the way."
Houshun didn't answer right away. He had not anticipated this. It could not possibly bode well for the journey that his plans were unraveling already. But at least I am in Hong-Nan. There is some measure of comfort in having made it this far.
"Well. I suppose it can't hurt. And like you said, I'm a stranger here. You know the county. How could I refuse a native guide?"
"You couldn't, of course. Not sensibly anyway." Ji-Shin laughed, and seemed even more child-like that before.
The question was out of his mouth before Houshun could think. "How old are you anyway?" It sounded almost like an accusation.
Fortunately his companion took no offense. "Fifteen. You?"
"I'm ni—" Houshun made a face, as if concentrating. "Not quite seventeen. Late next season."
The youth – Houshun couldn't even think 'boy' now – stared at him. "Hmm. You don't seem that old."
"Funny. I was thinking the same about you."
Houshun was amazed at how easily conversation flowed between them, and how unoppressive silence could be. When they ran out of things to say for a time, they just walked, and enjoyed the journey. There was no strain, no pressure to think of something to fill the quiet. Houshun thought that perhaps it had something to do with his companion's maturity. He had never met a so composed a fifteen year old.
They walked all day, stopping only briefly for meals, both of those cold, for the weather was warm and there was no need of a fire. It was dark by the time Ji-Shin finally called a halt.
"You might be able to walk all day and all night," he said, laughing, "but I need sleep!"
Houshun grinned, but said nothing. In truth, he could have stopped long before, but didn't want to be the first to admit to being tired.
Neither youth had a bedroll, though both decided then and there that they would have to purchase one in the next town. Houshun shoved his pack under his head and arranged it as comfortably as possible, and Ji-Shin made a pillow out of a large tussock of grass. Though Houshun couldn't imagine having blades of grass poking him in the ears while he slept, he had to believe that there was no way it could be lumpier than the pack. The light snores that soon drifted from Ji-Shin's direction seemed to confirm that thought.
Riana lay awake for a long time, listening to Ji-Shin breathe, wondering how she could possibly maintain her disguise traveling with so astute a companion. What would she do when she needed to bathe…? Relieving herself wasn't too much of a problem; it just took longer than one might expect. And her breasts ached from being wrapped so tightly for so long. She only very rarely slept in a bra, and that was bad enough. Her original plan had been to take all the wrappings off – those on her ankles as well – when she bedded down for the night. That was out of the question now. Fortunately her clothes were relatively clean, so there would be no need to change in the morning.
But what on earth would she do when she needed to bathe?
It took two days for the youths to reach the next village. It was appreciably larger than the other, and Houshun left Ji-Shin to purchase their bedrolls while he went in search of someplace to buy a bow. It didn't take long. There was a good sized shop on the main street selling all sorts of hunting equipment, from knives to ropes to bows to fishing lures. He knew buying the archery equipment would probably take most of his money, but he didn't mind. The only weapon he had was a hunting knife, and if anyone attacked him, he really didn't want to let them get close enough to be able to use it. And, if he had the bow, he wouldn't have to buy food – hopefully. He'd never actually hunted before, but with some practice, he should be able to hit…something.
He wandered around the shop for some time, hoping to seem more curious than intent on a purchase. He hoped to be able to draw the shopkeeper into lowering prices to encourage him to buy something. The quality of the weapons also worried him. Some of the knives were absolutely beautiful, but the moment he picked them up, he could feel that the balance was completely wrong. On the other hand, some of the less-flashy ones seemed to be very high quality. He almost laughed at that thought – as if he had the expertise to judge the craftsmanship of anything! Still, he was afraid these bows might not be worth much. Letting his eyes wander across the wall where the bows were hung, he tried to see if any caught his attention.
Never had he seen so many different types of bows in one place. There were longbows, recurves, take-downs of both types – Funny, I would have thought those were a more modern invention – composite recurves for horsemen, and even a few crossbows. Bows tipped with horn or enamel, made of more types of wood than he could name, strung with gut or twine or silk cord, with grips of horn or leather. There were even rudimentary sights.
"Can I help you, lad?"
Houshun turned and smiled at the shopkeeper, an elderly man, lean, and still unbent by time. "Just admiring your merchandise, sir."
"Oh, aye?" He looked around the shop with a slightly amused expression, as if trying to see it from his customer's point of view. "They're quite something, aren't they?" He nodded his iron-grey head toward the bows.
Houshun glanced at the old man's hands, and noticed the calluses on his bow fingers. "Well, mostly I would say they are."
The shopkeeper eyed him sharply. "What do you mean 'mostly,' boy?"
"I mean no offense, sir," he answered hastily, "but a few of those bows I wouldn't give my leftover dinner for."
Rather than getting angry, as Houshun half expected, the old man merely looked at the bows. "Which?"
Startled, Houshun scanned the wall for the ones that had stood out as particularly poor. "That one there. The third longbow from the end, you see? It's warped. The wood is twisted slightly. And this composite…" He stepped up to the bow in question and ran a finger along the upper limb. "The horn is fraying, here. If that's not fixed, it's going to break, eventually."
The shopkeeper frowned and peered over Houshun's shoulder. "Eh, you're right. I missed that one." He took the bow down and went into the back of the shop for a minute, returning without the bow. "I try to keep an eye out for the ones that need attention, but I'm afraid my eyes aren't what they used to be."
"And the longbow?"
He shrugged. "That one'll stay. It's no fine piece, but will do well enough for a beginner. Which you obviously aren't."
Houshun squirmed inwardly under the man's scrutiny, and tried not to fidget. "I have some experience with archery."
The old man grinned. "Well then. You can pick out the bad ones, but what about the good? Show me, lad. If you could take any bow up there, which would you choose?"
Brief panic surged through Houshun. "Which would I choose for myself, or which is the highest quality?"
That gave the shopkeeper pause. He rubbed a forefinger along his stubbled jaw. "They wouldn't be one and the same, then? Wouldn't you take the best quality you could get?"
"Not if the best was a composite bow, or a take-down. Or a crossbow."
He gave a short bark of laughter. "Fair enough! So you'd be wanting a longbow then? Or a recurve?"
Houshun thought a moment. Longbows were fine for hunting, but he wanted something a little more powerful… "Recurve, probably."
The shopkeeper motioned to the wall, and Houshun stepped forward to examine the recurves. One longbow kept distracting him, and he finally took a moment to admire it – an elegant construction of layered yew with a horn grip and tips. But he wasn't here for a longbow, so he quickly turned his attention back to the recurve bows. There were three that seemed to be particularly high quality. One was very plain, with a simple leather grip and enameled tips. The riser appeared to be made of oak, layered with yew that continued into the limbs. The other two were a bit more elaborate. The one Houshun most liked the look of was made of ash with a tooled leather grip and horn tips. The other, yew again, had an ornately carved horn grip, and embossed carvings all the way along the limbs. It was very beautiful, but would be way out of his price range.
"That one." He pointed to the ash bow. "If I could choose any here, it would be that one." Grinning, he added, "Though I doubt I could afford it."
The old man looked at him thoughtfully. "You had some trouble choosing, eh?"
"A little." He pointed out the others he was looking at and explained why he had quickly discarded the third from his list. "And this one…" He ran a finger admiringly along the upper limb and sighed. "It's beautifully constructed, but…"
"Vanity, lad? Picked the fancier one?"
Another customer wandered into the shop and stood looking at the knives. The shopkeeper watched him out of the corner of his eye, but kept most of his attention on Houshun.
"A little." He chuckled sheepishly. "But I'm also trying to think of what I could afford. That looks to be a masterwork, for all its simplicity. I don't need anything quite that good."
"Not as good, but maybe a little stronger, eh?" He picked up the ash bow. "This is probably the second best recurve I have. It's more powerful than that one, and the draw weight's a bit higher."
Houshun blinked. He'd forgotten all about draw weights. He could only pull about thirty pounds, comfortably. Forty, if he wasn't shooting many ends.
"Of course," the man continued, oblivious, "it's also a bit shorter." He looked at Houshun, who only stood about five foot four. "Which is probably a good thing, in your case."
"Huh. We're talking like I can afford this – how much would you be asking for it?"
"We'll get to that in a bit, lad. Now, you'll need arrows. And a quiver I imagine. And a string. Do you intend to fish with it?"
"Fish?" Houshun stared at him. "What do you mean?"
"Have you never fished with a bow before?"
"No – I didn't know people did!"
He grinned. "You'll have to try it, then, eh? It's no easier than usual fishing – harder, probably – but better for the impatient types." He picked up a reel of fine cord. "This lashes here, just above the grip on the bow face. See? Tie the string through a hole in the end of the arrow," and he picked up one of the fishing arrows to demonstrate, "and there you are!"
"Sounds worth trying…" But Houshun was getting even more concerned about cost. "What's the draw weight on that bow?"
"About three stone. Maybe just a shade more."
Stone…shit. What's the conversion for stone to pounds? "Okay." Houshun racked his brains for a few minutes, only half listening to the shopkeeper, trying to remember. He knew he'd read it somewhere, but stone was a pretty archaic weight measure, and didn't turn up very often in the US.
"So, arrows. We'll stick to ash, so they match the bow. Hold out your arms, boy."
He put his arms straight out in front of him, palms close together, and the old man held an arrow between them, so the knock just touched Hoshun's chest. The point – a wicked looking hunting tip – was about six inches beyond his fingertips. The man arched an eyebrow. "Too long." The next arrow was a good length, and he picked up nine more of the same – ash with two black fletching and one white striped with black – and put them in a shoulder quiver made of tooled leather and wood. "Now, let me see your draw hand."
Houshun held out his right hand, and the shopkeeper fitted him with an archer's glove of supple leather that covered his first three fingers, but left the thumb and little finger bare.
"Fourteen!" he said, suddenly.
The shopkeeper stared at him. "Eh, lad?"
"Sorry, thinking out loud." There were fourteen pounds in a stone. So the draw weight of the bow was about forty-five pounds. This was going to be interesting. He looked at the glove as the man removed it. "That's quite clever."
"Isn't it? Designed 'em myself." He put the fishing reel and the cord to lash it in place in a pocket inside the quiver. He scanned the arm guards a moment, picked one up and held it against the youth's arm. Grunting in satisfaction, he put it with the glove. "Now, a bowstring. Gut, twine or, silk?"
"There I'm out of my depth. What do you recommend?"
"Gut and twine are strongest, but twine'll fray, and gut needs constant upkeep. Silk has the smoothest release, and all you really need to keep it in condition is a block of wax, but it tends to stretch if strung too long."
"Is there a way around that?"
The shopkeeper nodded and picked up one of the silk cords. "The twine and gut are one bunch of strands. These are two, twisted together, see? The more you twist it the shorter it gets, which counteracts the stretching. That and don't leave the bow strung when you aren't using it. Got a color preference?"
Houshun blinked. "What?"
The man chuckled. "I can't seem to find just plain silk cord. People don't usually dye twine or gut, but they insist on pretty colors for the silk." He motioned to the strings, letting Houshun take his pick.
A striking forest green cord twisted with black caught his attention. "That'll work."
"Alright then. Now, stand straight." The shopkeeper put looped the ends of the string over the tips of the bow, keeping one loop in the grooves and letting the other slide down the limb. He then placed the bow on a box stringer and slid the free loop into the grooves on the other tip. He held it up. "Eh, not quite tight enough." He then held it up beside Hoshun, testing the bow's length compared to his height. "Bow'll be a nice length for you though." He then unstrung it, twisted the cord a little tighter, strung it again, and looked at it. "That's better. See, here." He held an arrow up to the bow as if it was a ruler. "The string should be this far from the riser." He marked the arrow at the right length. He then took a bow square and placed a silver bead on the string, just above where the knock of the arrow should go. "There. All set but for your color code."
"My what?"
"The color bands on your arrows, so you don't loose 'em, or mix them up with anyone else's. Now, at the points, we'll start with black and green, to match your string." He got a tray of bright paints and a book from behind the counter, and started to page through the book. "Black with green… Ah, here we are. Ideas, lad?"
"No orange or yellow." He eyed those pots with thinly veiled disgust. "Blue's nice."
"And a contrast?"
"Red, I guess. Or white."
The shopkeeper scanned quickly through the book, and picked up a quill. "What's your name, boy?"
"Houshun."
"Houshun…" he muttered as he wrote, "black, green, blue, white, with red near the fletching." He glanced up, eyes twinkling. "Sound good?"
"I guess so." Since the old man seemed to have everything in hand, Houshun let his mind wander while the bands were being painted on the arrows. Now that he had time to think, he noticed a familiar nagging feeling in the back of his mind. He looked around the shop, and noticed that the other customer was still there, still looking at the hunting knives. Houshun frowned and studied him for a moment. He wasn't a very tall man – he was taller than Houshun, but then again, most people were – and he didn't seem to be much older. He wore his dark, almost violet hair long, tied in a thick braid that reached past his waist. It was his clothes, though, that caught Houshun's attention. They were obviously for travel, and looked somewhat worn, but they had clearly been very fine at one point. Nicer than anything Houshun had seen anyone wearing as of yet. What's someone like him doing here?
"There you go."
He looked back at the shopkeeper. Painting the bands on all ten arrows had taken him less than five minutes.
"Now. Price."
Houshun swallowed audibly. "How much?"
The old man considered this. "How much do you have?"
"I'm not sure I should tell you that…"
He waved a dismissive hand at the youth. "Eh, don't worry, lad. I'm not going to cheat you. I know full well this is likely more than you can afford, but it's been so long since I've had a worthwhile customer after archery equipment that I'm willing to make some allowances." He motioned to the counter.
Houshun took the hint and upended his money purse.
The shopkeeper seemed surprised. Whether because there was more or less money than he had anticipated, Hoshun didn't know, and didn't want to guess.
"Where are you headed, lad?"
"The capitol."
The old man considered the pile of coins, then separated out a little more than two thirds of them, put the rest back in the pouch, and handed it back to Houshun.
He stared at the shopkeeper, and at the pouch, and back again. "Surely that's not enough, sir!"
"Relax, lad. Let me keep my own counsel, eh?" He smiled at the many bows that still hung on the walls. "I'll be more than able to make it up with those other two." Handing the glove and arm guard to Houshun, he put the arrows back in the quiver, along with a cord stringer, strapped the bow to the side of it, then handed the quiver over as well. "Oh, I nearly forgot…" He went back to the arrows, pulled out two more, and gave them to the youth as well.
"But…"
The shopkeeper indicated the small hole through the knock of one of them. "Fishing arrows. You have a safe journey, lad. And thank you. You've made this old man proud of his work again."
"I really should be thanking you, sir—"
But the old man waved him away, and turned to the other customer. "I appreciate your patience, sir. Can I help you find anything?"
It was obviously a dismissal, so Houshun left, astonished by his good fortune.
He stepped out into the dimming afternoon sun – it was nearly dinnertime. He hoped Ji-Shin would agree to eating something in town; he was not quite ready to try his hand at hunting for their supper. It seemed there was still some time before he was supposed to meet his companion – when he reached the tree in the town square where they had agreed to meet, Ji-Shin was nowhere in sight. Probably a good thing. I can relax on my own for a bit.
He unslung his new quiver and pack and set them on the ground, then sat, leaning back against the tree. For what felt like ages, but couldn't have been more than half an hour, he sat unmoving, watching people go about their business. Only about five minutes after he sat down, he saw the young man from the weapons shop cross the square. Wonder if he found what he was looking for? Houshun thought.
Half an hour later, about the time Houshun's neck was getting stiff and sore from leaning back on the tree, the man came back. Houshun had closed his eyes, for the wind had picked up momentarily and kicked the dust from the street into them. When he opened them again, he was immensely surprised to see the stranger standing in front of him, looking down at him with what could only be amusement.
"There you are."
Houshun looked around, wondering if his location was somehow significant.
"I've been looking for you," the man continued, "though I must say you aren't what I expected."
He sounded amiable enough, despite the fact that Houshun had no idea what he was talking about. For some reason, he was immediately at ease with this man, even more so than he had been with Ji-Shin, and he couldn't resist a brief jab. "I saw you go past some time ago. You mustn't have been looking very hard."
For a moment the stranger just stared at him. Then, without warning, he threw back his head and laughed. He had a bright laugh, higher than that of most men, musical and unrestrained, as if there was nothing in the world he needed to care about.
Houshun liked him instantly.
"You're right," the young man said, still laughing. "But I'm afraid that old man in the shop put me off rather badly, so I wasn't concentrating as hard as I should have been. Besides, I hadn't seen what direction you'd gone when you left, so I had only the feeling to go on."
"What, you mean you get that, too?"
"That niggling sensation in the back of your brain – feels like someone is staring at you really hard?"
"Huh. Yeah, that's a good way to describe it…"
The stranger smiled. "Yes. That's partly how we all find each other. Drawn together by fate, I suppose, but we recognize each other by that feeling."
"What are you talking about?" Houshun stared at him.
Ji-Shin came running up out of nowhere. "Sorry," he panted, "that took me longer than I had anticipated—" He stopped and stared at the newcomer, whose smile only widened.
"Well! Chiriko. Long time no see. And here I thought I'd found him first."
Houshun's normally composed traveling companion cast aside much of his dignity, as he and the stranger both started talking at once, so rapidly that Houshun couldn't catch a word. He gathered that whoever this new person was, Ji-Shin was very glad to see him.
Finally they slowed down a bit.
"Perhaps you can explain what's happening, then," Ji-Shin said. "Houshun is undoubtedly who we have been searching for. But how is that possible?"
They've been searching for me? What for? Why would they be searching for me? Houshun had about had enough. "Wait a second here!" He scrambled to his feet as the two stared at him. "Looking for me? Why? And who the heck are you? What the hell is going on here?"
The newcomer looked a bit embarrassed. "Sorry, I should have introduced myself. I'm Ryu-Sen – Nuriko, but call me Ryu-Sen, for now. We should keep things as simple as possible, I think." He paused, considering Houshun for a moment. "And we've been looking for you to take you to the capital. Though I must admit, it is rather strange. We've never had a Priest of Suzaku before."
"I'm WHAT??"
"Suzaku's Chosen," Ji-Shin said. "The one who will summon Suzaku and save our people."
"From what?"
At that Ryu-Sen and Ji-Shin exchanged glances. "Um… We don't know, actually…"
Ji-Shin added, "There's been no threat to Hong-Nan to our knowledge. However, Suzaku surely would not awaken his Seishi and summon his chosen into this world for no reason."
"Chiriko and Nuriko," Houshun mused, almost to himself. "Of course. Two of the seven Suzaku Seishi…"
"Then you do know! I'd thought you were simply being evasive when we first met."
"I know the story, yes. But I can't possibly be the…whatever. Suzaku's chosen."
Ryu-Sen looked at him intently. "And why not?"
"Because I wasn't called into Hong-Nan! I appeared in Qu-Dong. Wouldn't that make me Seiryu's?"
The two Seishi exchanged glances. "Then why come here?" Ryu-Sen asked.
Houshun shook his head. "To get away from them. I couldn't let myself be found by the Seiryu! To be stuck serving that lot? I had to leave…"
"You sound like you know a great deal about all this already," Ji-Shin said, carefully.
"Enough. We have a story in my world about the time Miaka was Miko—"
"Miaka!" Ryu-Sen stared at him. "Heavens that was ages ago! How many lifetimes?" He looked at Ji-Shin. "There have been two Priestesses since then. Still…"
"Priestesses." Ji-Shin's tone was still very even. "Even for the other gods, it's always been Priestesses."
Ryu-Sen shrugged. "Maybe Suzaku wanted a change of pace? I mean, even if you did appear in Qu-Dong, that doesn't really tell us much. We were being drawn toward the border, after all."
Houshun looked at Ji-Shin.
"He's quite correct. I was actually closer to the border than that village where I first saw you, when I suddenly realized I was being pulled back the way I'd come…"
Something clicked in Houshun's memory, and he had a brief moment of panic. It must have shown on his face, because Ryu-Sen gripped his shoulder.
"Hey, you alright?"
"You said there've been Priestesses since Miaka… What about… Wasn't there some problem with the Priestesses being erased each time there was a new one?" He could feel the blood draining out of his face.
Ryu-Sen laughed. "No wonder! You looked about to keel over, there. The only reason the Priestess of Genbu was vanishing was because the cycle had been broken. Had it been at least a hundred years between the summonings of Suzaku and Seiryu and Yui's being brought back as the new Priestess of Genbu, everything would have been fine." He glanced at Ji-Shin for confirmation.
"Precisely. Providing there is adequate time between now and the next summoning of Suzaku, you should have nothing to worry about."
Houshun shook his head. "'Should have' is not very comforting."
"Well, it's the best you're going to get, I'm afraid." Ryu-Sen put his hands on his hips and grinned at them. "We've got a long way to go, you two. Get your stuff organized, and let's grab some food and go!"
The boys had their marching orders, and quickly re-organized their packs, strapping the bedrolls on the outside. Houshun had a job settling both the pack and quiver comfortably on his back, and eventually gave up. With luck they would settle themselves as he walked. "We should get a pack-horse, or something," he mourned. The others just laughed.
Dinner was a rather rushed affair; a sort of meat and cheese pastry they could eat as they walked. Ryu-Sen was in a hurry. He had traveled most of the way with Xaioh, the Seishi Hotohori, and they had split up in the previous town. Xaioh had stayed there, keeping an eye out in case Ryu-Sen for some reason missed the Priestess.
"Priest. Whatever. You. That town's a major stop on the way to the capitol, so even if I didn't catch you, he probably would have."
They traveled until nearly dark, then struck out away from the road to camp, stopping beside a creek. The nights were warm, so there was no need to bother with a fire. They just laid out their bedrolls and curled up to sleep. Exhaustion made conversation brief, and soon, the only sounds were soft snores and the whisper of the forest.
Some time after she was pretty sure her companions were asleep, Riana crawled out of her bedroll. She quietly rummaged through her pack for some soap, a comb, extra bandages, and a change of clothes, then headed downstream until she found a pool deep enough to bathe in. "Gods, I stink…" The water was frigid, but at this point, that didn't matter much. She stripped down, wincing as she took the bandages off her breasts, and nearly weeping when she tried to straighten her hair. It had been tied up so tightly for so long that her scalp was in agony. Though she bathed quickly, she still had time to think about her situation. So I'm the Priestess of Suzaku… I can't imagine what they must be thinking! Priest of Suzaku? No wonder poor Ji-Shin was so bewildered when we met. Getting home shouldn't be too much of a problem, then. I just wish myself there! She frowned, and started scrubbing her clothes. But I wonder what sort of predicament Hong-Nan is in that it needs Suzaku?
When everything was finally thoroughly clean, she re-bound her breasts, dressed, and tied her hair back into a bun. She really hoped this journey didn't last too long. Why not just tell them the truth? That thought gave her pause, and she considered it very carefully before deciding against it. The Seishi were supposed to protect the Priestess. She understood that. But at the same time, Ji-Shin and Ryu-Sen seemed fairly confident in Houshun's ability to look after himself. If Miaka's summoning was any indication, they were likely to face a great deal of danger before this was all over. Riana didn't want them to risk their lives for hers – she would be permitted to pull her own weight in this adventure or they would have to find themselves another Priestess. She grinned a little at that childish thought. Childish, perhaps, but true. They had been very careful of Miaka – Ria didn't want to risk their attempting to wrap her in satin if they found out she was a girl. Until she had proven to them all that she could look after herself, they would be stuck with Houshun.
She reached their camp and carefully hung her wet clothes on branches to dry. As she lay down to sleep at last, an image of a middle-aged man, face twisted with horrible intentions, swam before her mind's eye. She shoved the thought away as quickly as she had run from him. That has nothing to do with anything, she thought. These were Seishi, sworn to protect Suzaku's chosen. The fact that she was a lone girl among men had nothing to do with her choice to remain Houshun. Did it?
Sorry about the insanely detailed archery section – I guess I got a bit too caught up in it. Ah well.
Poor Ria… She has put herself into a bit of a fix. I'm just glad this chapter is finally DONE. Argh!
Well, y'all, chapter three is also finished and ready to be posted. Let me know if it's worth it! There will probably be at least a week between posts – I'm trying to let the story get off the first page of fics before posting again. waves Ja ne!