Right, well, you know the drill. Procrastination is a wonderful thing, and I have yet to get a chapter out on the day I set for myself. ^.^;; Forgive the odd spacing, I'm experimenting with document types and I haven't quite figured out how to do it yet…
SMALL WARNING: For those of you who haven't quite figured it out yet, The Casting of Shadows is Alternate Universe. I tried really, really hard to keep the storyline in the normal parameters of accepted knowledge about the Ronin Warriors/YSTs, but I found that a) there were a lot of holes concerning facts I needed to know, and b) its more fun to write and read originality. I'd apologize for the inconvenience, but that seems like a rather silly thing to do, if you think about it. And besides, some of you like it.
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The Casting of Shadows
By Phoenix Cubed
Chapter 10 – Decisions
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Jamten paced about the living room like a caged panther, pensive and broody. Fillip stood sullenly behind him, his left eye swollen shut and his right cheek sporting a dark bruise. The wounds had been earned just today while keeping Jamten from making any fatal mistakes. Though sore, neither were more than a nuisance to his senses. Both would be gone by tomorrow morning, but the General's temper would not. To Jamten, losing the Pigeon was bad enough, but to having to forfeit her to a run of the mill fire licker was an insult that could not be ignored. The boy hadn't been that strong, but he had been crafty and unpredictable; attributes that deeply upset and disturbed Jamten.
The tension in the room boiled and frothed until finally Jamten could take it no more. A guttural snarl of anger tore through his throat and he lashed out recklessly, knocking over an expensive looking vase on an ornate metal stand. The vase fell to the ground and landed with a muffled bounce on the plush onyx carpeting. Jamten turned to it and glared. With an almost casual flick of his wrist, a sphere of electric fire shot from his palm and surrounded the vase, lighting it up until it exploded with awesome force. A sickly fire blazed on the carpet as pieces escaped from the inferno and ricocheted about the room. One such piece flew precariously close to Fillip's uninjured eye, but he didn't bother to flinch. He was Second General Fillipenico de Mantras, Sovereign of Fate's Hand and second in line for ascension to the level of Disciple. He had survived the wrath of Fire, Ice, and the Ultimate, Himself. Fillip would not be bothered by a paltry clay projectile.
"How?" Growled Jamten. "How in the twisted path did this happen? He'll punish us for sure. This is your fault, you know. You should have let me kill her. We could have found a way to bottle her essence as she faded away. He'll skin us for this, leave our hides flailing in the wind for the Ice Bird to tickle." As if that prospect were too much to bear, Jamten lashed out again, this time at a vase of carved ivory that stood unobtrusively in the corner. He flung heatless energy from his fingertips, wanting to feel calm that always overtook him when he destroyed things.
But at the last moment, Fillip shouted out in protest and flashed from his position, grabbing the vase and saving it from Jamten's wrath. He glared at his fellow immortal, "idiot. Look at what you almost did. Get a hold of yourself before you get us into any deeper trouble."
"Don't tell me what to do, Fillip!" Jamten rounded sourly on his comrade, "I will be angry if I want!"
"Jamten," Fillip retorted, "cool it. What's done is done. We'll just get her back and make those infants pay for their interference."
"Oh, can we?" Melanie purred from the couch, her mismatched eyes glinting maliciously. Kaori was stretched out next to her sister, eagerly awaiting their peers' decisions.
"It would be so much fun, Jamey. We could make them squeal like forest boars."
Norban snorted from his seat by the window. "You're dismissing this too lightly. I have watched these new opponents. They are young, yes, but they are trained by the best of Destiny's forces. And now they're with the very battery that has charged their energies all this time. It would be wise to let well enough be and tread carefully on this egg shell field."
Jamten rolled his eyes skyward, "another speech from the stoned lipped Norban. I'm so glad this has become a group discussion suddenly."
Fillip pursed his lips slightly. "Jamten, he has an idea."
The first commander turned slowly to Fillip, "does he? Will it make up for yours?"
"Ivory's escape was not all my doing, Lord Jamten. We both had a hand in it."
"Bah," Jamten retorted, but gestured for the other to continue.
"Lord Cromer is coming at the end of this planet's first quarter, regardless. We've known for some time that he would pin us down and demand we hand her over. You can't have expected that we could've kept parading about with her for over a decade without someone finding us. Thank Fate it was our own master that did."
"Your point, Fillip," Jamten ground out.
"My point, oh Impatient One, is that he's coming to collect her come April thirty-first. He never specifically said he wanted us to keep her until then. In fact, he never specified how or where she was to be held until he could come. Which was why you wanted to knock her off, I believe—"
"Yes, yes," the sandy haired immortal hurried his fellow commander along.
"Great Master Cromer has left us a wonderful loop hole. He just said he wanted the Pigeon delivered to him, never how, or by who."
A light dawned on Jamten's hard features. "I see. Let me test my understanding here. You want us to leave our dear little Pidge in the little warriors' care. Knowing what we do, they'll most likely patch her up, feed her and keep her safe from harm. And then—"
"And then all we have to do is manipulate them into the meeting place forty-four days from tonight. Mortals have well established reputations for being easily confused, it won't be difficult."
Jamten rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "that," he said, "just might work. It saves us quite a bit of trouble and frees us to focus on more important issues. Very well then. We'll let the Ronin Whelps keep their precious little pigeon a while longer; however. Norban, I want you to keep an eye on them. If the situation gets too out of hand, remove her.
"And you two," he said, rounding on the twins. "Behave yourselves. No provoking any of them. Keep out of sight until the end of April. If you need something to do, find out where that new teacher came from. He looks too familiar a face."
Kaori and Melanie nodded, accepting the mission with abnormal seriousness.
"Fillip, find the information leak and shut it off. I want to know how that Ronin knew whom to look for and when. Make sure it's not a coincidence."
"I've already got a guess. It'll be taken care of."
Jamten had a few guesses of his own, but kept silent. His meeting was over, and it was his turn to attend to the To Do List. The wind whispered of the coming of a cold front, and Jamten needed to prepare accordingly.
"Enjoy your peace while it lasts, Pigeon," he said to the air, looking out the window and into the city streets, "I'll make sure it's the last you ever get."
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The forest of stars reached far into the endless fields of night, their shafts of light branching out far into the depths of the eternal domain of space. The stars grew in every direction, conforming to neither gravity nor the call of any creature, great or wistful. Each was their own entity, and as individuals they floated in an immeasurable ocean of starlight, singing songs that would echo through all aspects of life for forever and a day. Some were songs of sorrow, mourning those lost in battles long forgotten. Some were melodies of beauty that could bring tears to even the stoniest of hearts. But most were simply the telling of history as only the stars could—truthfully.
Once, not so very many years ago in the eyes of the ages, Rowen had sat atop the highest mountains and listened to their whisperings for hours. Until the wise and not so venerable Disciple of Destiny would call him in to tell him her own stories and feed him glorious suppers made by some of the finest cooks from universes unknown. He would listen, enraptured, to the tales she would tell. Rowen would wrap himself in the intricate details and spicy emotions that his aunt would dish to him in helpings larger than the meals they ate. But they were glorious tales, and Rowen had loved every minute of it. Even now, eleven years after the last story had spun itself to oblivion, the warrior youth knew he would gladly fight a thousand Talpa's for only one more narration. Triumph or tragedy, comedy or conspiracy, his adopted aunt knew how to keep an audience's attention.
But tonight, staring up at the night sky and straining his ears for the whale songs of space, Rowen heard nothing. And deep down, Rowen feared that it would stay that way. The Phoenix was a mess, and never had he seen her look so beaten and down. Jamten's crew had done quite a number on the being he had once thought of as indomitable. Rowen shuddered as his mind played over and over the image of Ivory lying still as death on the bed in Mia's guestroom. Between the ugly bruises and thin, pale blonde locks, Ivory had looked so…vulnerable. Auntie was many things, but that was not one of them.
Rowen leaned back and stretched his lanky body out amidst the tall grass. The lush field's sweet smell reminded the boy of the grassy knolls that went on forever behind the village he had been born in. If he remembered only one thing about the place of his birth, it would be those endless rolling fields of bluegrass that he once believed extended to the very corners of the Earth. Unfortunately, other memories besides those stuck to his mind like hardened gum to the underside of a school desk. There were a few pleasant images, like the handful of memories he had of his parents, laughing and happy. Or the blissful rides he would take on the village horses under the watchful eye of his uncle.
But more often they were not fond images. They were a single, jumbled mesh of the final days of his village before the unnamed forces wiped it all away and changed his life forever.
In the guise of a young human female, the Phoenix used to be a frequent visitor to his home, Rowen's parents being two of the top scientists that the Fire referred to at the time. Ever since he could remember, Aunt Ivory would make unexpected trips to his house, and Rowen's father and mother would exclaim every time, 'look Rowen, you're auntie is here!' Soon after, the three of them would disappear into the basement, often for hours, leaving the infantile Rowen in either a village attendant's care or the large fiery cat-dog that seemed to accompany the Phoenix wherever she went. The Ronin could remember always trying to grab the lion-like tail of the creature, whose tip burned and crackled with golden electric flame. But every time, just before he was able to grab it, the Phoenix and his parents would reemerge. Ivory would scoop him into her arms, her bright blue-green eyes shining with laughter, and exclaim, "Rowen, you're parents must be the smartest mad scientists this side of the Napairica Port."
To this day, Rowen still hadn't any clue as to what that meant, but the Hashibas had always taken it to be a great compliment. Mother and Father would humbly deny any praise she threw at them and offer the visitor some tea or a bite to eat. Sometimes the Phoenix ate and sometimes she didn't. Just as often she cooked for them. Ivory had always been good at everything--even if it was just brightening someone's day. She brought to his village laughter in a time where even his young mind knew there was great war and hardship raging.
Except for that final, fated day. He'd been in the living room; half dozing and watching his mother fold laundry when the lights had gone out. The lamps became dim and the sunlight from the windows ceased its streaming as dark and angry clouds overshadowed the sky. Frightened, he ran to his mother just as his father came running in from the lab. Outside the house, they could hear loud cursing and yelling as confusion reigned. Rowen had clung to his parents, never having experienced the retreating of the day so quickly.
And then, like in his dreams, the earth shook with thunder and lightning as great beasts descended from the dark clouds. Creatures of nightmare and covered in gleaming scales fell from up high on ragged leather wings. Their heads angled in a reptilian cast, tapering into canine muzzles and sharp, tearing teeth. Riding on the wind, they began to attack the village and demolish it down to the very last hut. A few of the larger fliers swooped down low and hairy the frightened people, singling one or two out and ensnaring them in their claws. The people were lifted high into the air, screaming and begging for a savior. Many were released and fell heavily to the earth, but the short cut cries and wet tearing sounds indicated the fates of the rest. Rowen watched through the curtained window as more monsters appeared in the dirt streets that lined his home, destroying the village by every means possible. The flying creatures began to tear the roofs off houses as grounded beasts ripped away doors to plunder hut insides. Sparks began to fly and homes erupted in flames, smoke billowed from windows and streamed into the sky, blackening the day further. The villagers, armed with spears and swords and heavy arrows, fought back gallantly to save their burning village, but they were no match for the foreign threats of claws teeth.
Rowen remembered, tears pricking at his ducts, the last hug his father had given him before charging out the door with his most trusted bow to join the foray and defend his family. And Rowen knew that his father's final, agonizing scream would haunt him forever as he ran with his brave, crying mother through the house as the attackers began tearing at their own door.
"Run!" She had cried, pushing him out the back exit, "run, Rowen!" Mother had detoured through the kitchen to fetch a golden candle and lighter. No time to ask for an explanation, Rowen had run as fast as his tiny legs could carry him towards the woods, until his mother had picked him up and made a sudden left up a steep hill and to the township fire pit. Dropping to her knees, she had slammed down the candle and fumbled with the lighter while muttering a fervent prayer. The youth had been too small to recall the words, but thinking back, he knew the gist of it. The candle flared and the golden wick ignited into the sky. Mother continued to pray, a calm expression spreading serenity across her face, but Rowen had been so scared, all he had done was cry.
Then came a blood-curdling scream as Rowen looked up to see a leather winged demon hovered fifty feet in the air, its mouth gaping and full of slathering teeth that dripped crimson saliva. It was the only time he had ever heard his mother scream, when she pushed him from the pit and sent him tumbling down the hill and to a safer mercy. The creature folded its wings and dived at mother, bloodied talons extended for the kill. Landing on top of her and the candle, it bellowed in pain and rage as the fire from the candle flared up and consumed the beast and the boy's mother, already dead from the landing blow.
"Mama!" The tears fell freely now, as Rowen's mind saw the smaller image of himself try to scramble back up the hill and to his mother. But another creature came charging from around a flaming house near the foot of the hill. Its beady yellow eyes spotted the hysterical child and it grinned, revealing massive chops decorated with previous kills. Spotting the beast, Rowen had tried to run, but he found his feet frozen to the ground and his body stiffer than amber fossils. His eyes dilated as he focused on the feral demon that stalked towards him, promising a most unkind death.
With a final stride, the demonic predator gathered his muscles and lunged. Rowen shut his eyes and opened his mouth to scream.
A sudden gust of intense heat knocked the boy backwards. Startled, he opened his eyes to the most magnificent sight his eyes had yet to take in.
She was enormous; Rowen remembered that being his initial impression of the first and last time he had laid eyes on the true form of the Phoenix, as large as an average sized commercial passenger plane. Fire had curdled from her very being as she burst on the scene, exploding from nowhere. The Phoenix's huge wings flared wide and great tendrils of flame swept out with each massive stroke, curling through the air around her and Rowen. Talons of the deepest obsidian raked the earth's floor and furrowed deep into the dirt as the raptor's flaming mass landed with a quaking thump between the boy and the oncoming attacker. Immediately the great bird contracted her wings slightly and hunched into a defensive posture. Feathers that ranged from a gentle, pastel yellow to a deep, bloody crimson fluffed up and fluttered menacingly about her body, adding to the appearance of flames that seemed to consume her entire body. From her sockets, jewels of polished dark jade quickly assessed the situation and grew even darker as ferocious anger clouded her vision. Gathering her fury, the Phoenix opened her beak and screamed at the demon, extending her neck and flaring her glorious mane of feathers in an ear piercing battle cry. The creature that had dared attack Rowen was incinerated in a painful blast of vengeance, but immediately half a dozen more answered the Phoenix's challenge and fell upon the fire raptor, snarling and tearing with their teeth and claws. One demon, whether out of skill or luck, managed to leap upon the raptor's neck and dig his claws into the soft feathers just behind her jaw, tearing them loose and exposing her skin to his teeth. The Phoenix screamed in pain and plowed the side of her head roughly into the ground, forcefully scraping off the parasite but leaving a ragged cut down jaw line that bled freely, splashing to the ground like mercury in bright puddles of blue liquid.
She screamed again and with a mighty thrust of her powerful wings, became airborne, taking her attackers with her. The Phoenix went high into the air before shaking them off, letting the wingless creatures tumble to earth, howling in fear and anguish until their cries were cut off with a brutal finality. The flying demons took to the air, hundreds the size of horses circled around her on their ragged wings. Hissing like reptiles but flying like bats, they extended their own birdlike talons and came at her with overwhelming force.
But the Phoenix shot upwards like bullet, rising high above the ground and straight into the center of the demons' attacking force. As if running into an invisible wall, the raptor came to an abrupt halt, her wings snapping open with an echoing crack. And as sudden as her stop, the world erupted in hellfire.
Sound waves pummeled the air as a furious and sorrowful cry bombarded every sense. Rowen tried to cover his ears and shut his eyes to drown out the horridness that washed over him, but to no avail. Everything was on fire, burning ferociously—the clouds, the grass, the very air. Rowen stared in detached bemusement as he watched his own palms hold dancing flames. Yet he felt no heat or pain. However, the attackers did not share his immunity. Smoking, creatures dropped like flies from the sky and into piles of their grounded fellows, all were cindered and unrecognizable. What was left of the opposition fled into the darkness from which they had come, howling their cowardly outrage.
And then the fire suddenly stopped, and all was silent.
Rowen remembered looking around his tattered and ruined village. The dead lay in ragged heaps here and there about the ground. Houses stood like charred skeletons, very few lay untouched. People began to appear through the hazy mist of smoldering debris, looking for other survivors among the smoldering ashes. Horses and other village animals ran frightened to and fro in the chaos of the destroyed village. Permeated with surreal affects of shock, the boy turned dull eyes to the many columns of smoke that spiraled slowly upward to create whorl in the sky, obeying wind patterns created by a giant bird at the vortex's center. Her crimson and fire tail plumage trailed behind her in a pleated V shape, shadowing onyx talons that were tucked carefully under a belly decorated in feathers made of glossy crystal. Colors of an ocean sunset radiated on her dusky torso as the raptor glided back to earth.
The aptly named bird of fire and light came in for a subdued landing and settled next to the boy, suddenly smaller size, hardly bigger than a plains wagon. Rowen looked up and watched as her luminous blue-green eyes scanned over the village before settling where his own blue irises refused to glance.
The charred, smoking hole where Rowen's house once stood.
She gave a soft cree of sorrow and closed her eyes, dropping her head to nuzzle her golden beak against his grimy cheek. For a moment, the boy merely stood, unresponsive and completely stupefied. Then with a forlorn wail, he had turned to his transformed aunt and buried himself in the thick, soft feathers of her neck; both were heedless of the still bleeding cut lining the raptor's jaw even as a single, bright blue droplet dribbled from the quill of a broken feather and splashed on Rowen's head. It wouldn't be until much later that the Ronin realized what that single drop of blood had done to him, because at that moment, both bird and boy were lost to each other's sorrow. A wing wrapped carefully about him, the two stood amidst the rubble and cried, mourning a loss they both felt keenly.
The sun did not return that day. Nor the next.
It had taken three days to properly assess the damage done. Of the fifteen hundred that had once called the village home, one hundred and thirty seven remained. Rowen the only surviving child among them, though he had barely escaped with his life. Feeling frightened and alone, the boy clung to Ivory's side the entire three days. She performed funeral rites, patient supervision, and survivor responsibility, all with a small boy firmly attached to a limb or her back. Never did she complain, only offering reassurance and peace. There had always been an encouraging word for him during those trying times.
It was the Phoenix who decided that the village would not be rebuilt, but the remaining warriors would take the people and relocate in another area and under a different way of life and identity. Rowen's uncle would lead them to the plain of the mortal world, where humans were still very much in their adolescence, and use the guise of defeated warriors exiled from their homeland to blend into the warring era they would find themselves in. Never offering to take Rowen, he instead handed the once again human looking disciple of Destiny a letter and a small blue marble. Her eyes went wide at the tiny sphere, but she had calmed after reading the letter. Rowen discovered later on that all the orbs were missing for a few decades. The Phoenix had not known where they had been, but Rowen's family had been carefully hiding theirs. The Phoenix then smiled lightly at the now blue-haired boy and told him that his parents had designated her as his guardian. The fiery being had made the final arrangements with his uncle before bundling up the little would-be Ronin and flying off to his new home. Rowen had never gone back. And when the Phoenix had disappeared eleven years ago, he thought he never would.
Rowen sighed and shut his eyes to the stars and the earthly sounds of the night. But now the Phoenix was back. She wasn't whole or all that well, but she was back. And from here on out, Rowen knew he couldn't run from his troubles much longer.
Soft footfalls sounded to his left. He didn't have to look up to know that it was Cye wading through the tall grass. Even from a distance, the smallest Ronin gave off an aura of peace, tranquility, and a sense of utter trust everywhere she went. It was the quality that Rowen both loved and hated in his friend. He knew why she was coming out here, but he wasn't quite sure if he was ready for it.
The footfalls stopped a few feet from where he lay, and there was a rustling sound before an auburn head flopped down onto his stomach.
"Oomph." Rowen grunted and let out an expansive breath of air. He lifted his head and glared at the twinkling aquamarine eyes that faced him. "How about a warning next time?"
Cye smiled and let out a small giggle. "Where's the fun in that? Besides, you heard me coming."
Rowen grunted and dropped his head back to the ground. "As long as someone's enjoying themselves."
The girl smiled once more and turned her head to the stars, her fellow warrior's stomach making a good pillow for her to rest against. Cye's irises expanded and reflected the star dusted curtain that reigned above them.
"They're beautiful," she said finally, "and there's so many. You could count them forever, I'll bet."
The corners of Rowen's lips tugged upwards. "I watch them come out every night and I still haven't tired of them."
Cye gave a small sound of agreement then said, "Have you ever actually visited them?"
"A few."
"Really?" Torrent's eyes went suspiciously curious as she redirected them back to Rowen. "How did you do that?"
"Cye, I love you like a sister, but sometimes, you're positively evil."
"Whatever do you mean, brother dear?"
Rowen rolled his eyes and propped himself up on his elbows. "Do you want to keep playing Cat and Mouse, or shall we skip straight to the canary?"
The girl reached over and pushed her elbow into the young man's chest. "Lie back down, Rowen, let's not ruin a perfectly good view."
Strata snorted but did as he was told. After a few minutes of gazing, Cye began to speak again. "I think she'll be all right. We used a bloody lot of bandages and Sage is exhausted. They're both sleeping right now. Kento and Ryo got back a bit ago, so I thought I'd come see how you were doing."
"I'm fine," replied Rowen. "You shouldn't worry so much."
Cye lifted off her friend and rolled into a sitting position. "But I do worry about you, Rowen. We all do."
He shook his head. "I can't imagine why."
"Why?" The warrior of Trust sounded slightly annoyed. "Because we feel like it, that's why. Because we're your friends, Rowen. Or maybe, because the cause of your little mood swings is lying back at Mia's, unconscious."
Rowen sat up, a glint of heat in his cool cobalt blues. "Little mood swings?"
"Fine," she retorted, "big mood swings. You have another name for them? One minute you spout off about how you can't stand the Phoenix, that you've renounced her—the next, you're saving her from knife point and carryin' her about like a handle with care package. That's a mood swing, Rowen. I can tell you that, and I'm not even in an AP class."
"What was I supposed to do, let Jamten slit her throat?" Rowen argued, "Just let her die?"
"Why not? I thought you didn't care about her."
"I don't care!"
Cye's eyes were flashing, "then why'd you save her, Rowen?"
"I—" Rowen stopped his angry reply, hesitating, "—I don't know."
Her eyes softened as Cye's head fell slightly to the left, keeping her gaze fixed to her friend. "Rowen, you seem to think you don't know much lately. But like Sage said, I think you do. Why is that so hard to admit?"
Rowen's eyes drooped and his chin dropped to his chest. "It's just that…"
"Come on, Row, just what?"
He lifted his head, angry once more. "Why should I care about her? She doesn't give a wit one way or the other about what happens to me. To us!"
"Rowen!" Cye was taken back. "How can you say that? After—"
"After what?" He interrupted, "after she took us away from our families without our consent, dropped us in enemy territory, and left us to rot? After we battled Talpa, nearly killing ourselves, without any help from her?" Rowen choked on his words, he closed his eyes in apparent pain, trying in vain to keep the tears from squeezing out of his ducts. "After all the promises she broke? After, after…" the boy broke off, unable to finish.
Cye held her breath, watching the distress flicker about the body of her distraught comrade. On his knees, his eyes stared at the ground and his hands dug deep into the dirt, kneading the dark earth with his fingers. Over and over he whispered into the night, "you promised, you promised, auntie. You promised…"
It hurt her so much to watch Rowen's anguish. Cye leaned down next to her comrade, placing a hand on his shoulder and touching her forehead to his, she whispered to him, "what did she promise Rowen?"
It flashed in her head as if she had been there. A little boy with extreme blue hair clung to the leg of an elderly looking teen, close to the age the Ronins were now. Vibrating with life and energy, Cye would not have recognized the Phoenix she saw in the vision with the pitiful creature back at the house if not for the small boy she knew was Rowen tugging at the girl's skirt and calling her name. The surroundings were as unfamiliar to her as they were to the young version of Strata, but the Phoenix turned to the little boy and smiled, picking him up and keeping him safe and close as she went on her way. She took the child and placed him into a cloud-lined bed, tucking the thick, fluffy covers securely around his small body, kissing him goodnight. But the boy didn't want her to go. He was frightened and sad.
"Auntie, don't leave me!" He cried out to her as she walked away.
Cye watched as the Fire turned and smiled slightly, coming back to the bed to sit down beside the boy. "Don't worry, little Starfly, I could never leave you."
Rowen hugged her arm, crystalline tears welling in his ducts, "you promise?"
The girl smiled, "of course I promise. As the stars shine and the sun always smiles, I will always be with you."
Comforted by her words, the little Rowen finally settled down. Watched over by the Phoenix, the faintest traces of a lullaby echoed in Cye's head as she the image faded from her mind.
As suddenly as the first, another scene ripped across her eyes. Everyone was running about in frenzy while Rowen stood off to one side, a few years older than he had been only a moment before. He watched anxiously as creatures from all walks of life scurried to and fro, panicking from some unseen event or information. Cye knew without seeing that armies were gathering in gigantic courtyards just out of sight, preparing to leave for a massive battle. Here and there flits of fire and flashes of silver betrayed Ivory-—the Phoenix's-- location. She was preparing to lead the troops somewhere to counter a move that no one expected would be taken. There was a cry like a winged hunter and an echoing roar of flame as a massive doorway appeared out of thin air, leading into blackness. The troops began to jump blindly through the doorway, disappearing as they hit the swirling gateway.
"Auntie Ivory!" Rowen called out, nervous.
"Rowen." In an instant, the Fire was beside him, hugging him close. "Little Starfly, I have to go away for a while. There is great trouble that I cannot ignore. I have friends that need me."
"You're leaving me?" He asked in a frightened tone.
"Never, little one, never." She poked him gently on the nose, "the stars will shine—"
"—And the sun will smile—" the boy added.
"—And I will always be with you." She smiled at him. "But they need my help, and you should always aid someone that needs it. I hope not to be gone too long."
"All right."
She gave him one last embrace, "behave, Rowen, and don't forget your studies. I'll be back before you know it, then you and I can catch some more shadow bugs."
Cye felt the sorrow and the anticipated joy of the boy. "Right!"
"That's my little Starfly." Ivory stood and ruffled his hair. "Good bye, Rowen."
With that, there was a burst of flame as the girl vanished in a flurry of bright light and soared swiftly upwards, glinting like an evening star, before charging into the portal. Rowen ran after the light as far as he could, waving and shouting goodbye.
"It was the last time I ever saw her."
Cye was jolted back into the present by the sound of Rowen's voice. She looked at him, startled by what she had seen and heard.
Rowen nodded slightly, understanding the shock Cye was feeling. He hadn't really meant to share those memories, but the ties that bound the armors together could and often did shatter even the thickest of barriers to maintain balance, usually without warning. And really, there was no other way he could explain what had happened all those years ago and how he had come to feel the way he did.
"So what came next?"
Rowen shrugged slightly. "She never came back. What she ran off to came to be known as the Battle of Mindu, which means 'questions,' in some odd way. That's all anyone got out of it. No one knows why the enemy attacked that day, no one knows where the Phoenix disappeared to during the battle, and no one knows anything about the fight itself, except that there was a very big explosion that wiped out quite of bit of everythin'. It was still being researched when I left the nest."
"Why did you leave?"
Rowen's voice tightened. "I didn't leave so much as I was booted out. Lot of people went out lookin' for the Fire, but no one found her. When it became clear that Ivory wasn't coming back, I got shunted to the side. No one had time for Ivory's little pet projects besides Ivory. They were going to send me to my uncle, but he'd been in an accident…I guess his head been hit real hard, never been the same afterwards. So one day, I was looking around her office with an attendant—I don't remember the reason—when my orb fell out of one of the wall pockets and hit me. The attendant was about to take it away when it flared up and slapped the armor of Strata on me. Soon as the people in charge in Auntie's absence figured out what it all meant, they found me a few teachers and dumped me in the Dynasty. When I asked about my aunt, they told me she was off on business, like they knew where she was! If she had time, if, they would tell her where I had gone. Whether or not she would get back to me was debatable. If I was important enough, they'd squeeze me into her schedule. To the end, they always acted like she was comin' back."
Cye didn't know what to say. It sounded as if Ivory, the only family Rowen had since he was barely able to walk, harbored only the best of intentions for Rowen. But her followers made it seem like her disappearance was natural and expected, and that after a certain point, the girl just didn't have time for him anymore. Either way, Rowen had taken it hard.
"Rowen," she started.
"No," he said, "I know what you're going to say. It's stupid. But I was just so young--I didn't know how else to take it. I shouldn't get this upset, but it was a promise. And she'd never broken a promise before. Never."
It was silent for a very long while as Rowen kept his gaze level with the ground, picking at small strands of grass. Cye, still at a loss, lifted her face to the stars above. Looking to find comfort for her troubled friend in the shining light of the eyes of the ages.
Suddenly, Torrent smiled. With a delighted yell, she jumped on her friend's back and locked her arms around his neck. "Rowen!" She spoke delightedly to the startled boy, "look up, what do you see?"
Blinking in confusion, Rowen did as he was bidden, "stars, I suppose."
"And what are they doing?"
"Sitting in the sky?"
Cye rolled her eyes, "no silly, they're shining! And what does the sun do every morning?"
"Uh—"
"It puts on a great big happy grin and pops up over the horizon, that's what. Now, why do you suppose it does that?"
"Because—"
"Because," Cye plowed on, not allowing the boy to launch into a scientific justification, "because the stars will always shine and the sun will always smile, and Ivory will always be with you."
"Cye—"
"Hold on, Row, I ain't done yet." Cye swung about a small bit to land in Rowen's lap. "But right now you can't see the sun, though you can bet he's still smiling. And tomorrow morning, when he peaks over that hill, and the stars go away, what can you bet that they'll still be there, even though they're hidden?"
Rowen was still confused. "What's your point, Cye?"
"My point is, Starfly," Cye teased, flicking her friend on the nose, "that even though you can't always see her, she's still with you. And just because we were in danger and it seemed like ol' Auntie Ivory never cared, doesn't mean she ever stopped caring and looking after us. Just like the stars and the sun. Understand?"
Strata's eyes slowly lit up and Cye giggled. "For a genius, you sure are dense, Row."
The boy snorted, "thanks for the uplifting opinion. So now what happens?"
"Well," said Cye, "that depends on you. You can either stay out here and sulk a few more hours until the sun comes up and you catch a cold from the dew. Or, you can go inside, help us look after your long lost auntie, and possibly find out what happened to her all those years ago. Either way, it's your choice."
"You give me such a variety of options, Cye." Rowen stood slowly, allowing the girl to climb down and onto her own two feet. For a moment, he looked about him, taking in the night air and its predawn feel. Finally, he nodded. "Let's do it."
Cye smiled, "right. Let's go."
Together, under the watchful eyes of the ages, the two Ronins crossed the sea of grass and headed toward the house.
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Roses are red, violets are blue
Sugar is sweet, just like a review.