I think I forgot to mention earlier that I changed Kureno into Hatharu, and made him Hathori's younger brother. Khisa is Kisa. This is the chapter that contains the contradictory description of Asheno's bet with Lhadoman. Sorry for the confusion...
Disclaimer: FB isn't me, nor is anything else you recognize.
Chapter 26
Family life continued undisturbed in the background, during and immediately after Khisa's funeral. The first frost of the autumn arrived, coating everything outdoors in an iridescent white blanketing of exquisite crystals.
Lhadoman now trained enthusiastically under Khazuma's tutelage, in the foothills. "Foothills" was really only a technical term for this area; the hills were so cragged and large that the locals referred to them as the "hidden mountains." The teaching center sat about ten miles away from the Golden Ridge, so called because of the rocks' blinding reflection of light from the ridge's east face at sunrise. The hidden mountains and groves of coniferous trees provided ample opportunity for Lhadoman to climb and explore.
The first walk through Lhasa on Khazuma's shoulder bewildered and frightened Lhadoman, as masses of strangers surrounded them and huge metal boxes with windows zipped by.
"That's a train," explained Khazuma. "In Lhasa, many people ride the trains to their jobs."
"T-train," repeated Lhadoman dutifully. He'd read about them, but had never actually seen one. The public trains were much plainer and smaller than the fancier trains used for travel between cities and through the dividing range. The metal box resolved itself into a definable object, and Lhadoman looked at it with a newfound clarity. Now this was part of real life, unlike his prison of a room lacking the vitality and nuances of a typical street in Lhasa. He could discern both light and shadow, happiness and unhappiness, and loudness and silence. Up until this moment Lhadoman had experienced only the negative ends of the spectrum.
If he wasn't training and weather permitting, Lhadoman basked in the sun, either on the side of the gentle rises surrounding the training center or on the roof. Besides reading, only the sun relaxed him and momentarily stilled his roiling interior. The roof became Lhadoman's main retreat, whenever he became upset or confused by his life. Even though he knew the cat was naturally nimble, Khazuma couldn't help but worry about the possibility of a broken neck when Lhadoman napped on the roof.
During the training sessions, Lhadoman proved himself an eager and talented student. His biggest flaw lay in his impatience.
"Argh!" growled Lhadoman, frustrated by his tenth unsuccessful attempt at a difficult kick. He yanked off his protective arm gear and wildly threw it at the wall.
"A good martial artist trains his spirit as well as his body," reprimanded Khazuma gently. "The best blows aren't struck out of sudden anger or any other wild emotion. We'll have to work on cooling that hot head of yours. First, pick up your arm gear and put it away properly, then sit still on the floor for ten minutes. If you're calmer when ten minutes are up, we'll continue training until lunch."
"Okay, idzo," mumbled the boy, shamefacedly gathering his abused arm gear. "Idzo" was an old-fashioned honorific for a martial arts teacher, and had gone out of use sixty years ago. One of Lhadoman's favorite books contained romantic legends about a chivalric traveling idzo, who'd fought off evil villains and mythical monsters. Khazuma, to Lhadoman's seven-year-old eyes, personified the Travelling Idzo in his kindness and his rescue of Lhadoman from a life of unabated misery. He'd even been able to persuade Asheno to let Lhadoman live with him, and as far as Lhadoman knew, Asheno didn't let the Dzuni leave the Shoma main estate. So, on the first night in Khazuma's teaching center, Lhadoman unhesitatingly called Khazuma "Idzo." The students and most other people used "Shoma-mharu," meaning "Master Martial Artist Shoma," the correct formal title for Khazuma. Upon hearing himself named "Idzo," Khazuma smiled and patted Lhadoman. The name had stuck ever since.
Back at the main house, ten-year-old Asheno sweated in his elegant bed, afflicted by one of his commonplace fevers. He'd become accustomed to illness at an even younger age, taking comfort in the fact that it was the fate of the Dzuni God. Some time ago, Shehure, who Asheno was particularly close to, asked him if he really wanted to die young. Asheno had cursorily replied, "Of course." Dying young meant he'd be relieved of his suffering sooner rather than later. Also, his ill health and future early death would keep his Dzuni close by. They were obliged to obey his wishes anyway, but his sickly constitution added extra weight to his prestige. That made it easier for Asheno to keep a tight grip on the Dzuni's affairs, or so he believed. He had not yet reached the point, as all his predecessors did, when he realized that the Dzuni carried on separate lives outside his small bedroom and the banquet hall, circumventing the God. The eldest Dzuni had already begun, Shehure being the most expert in the art of eluding Asheno's awareness.
"Is Hatharu home yet?" Asheno asked his nursemaid in a faint voice.
"No, it's still only lunchtime," the nurse replied coldly and manner-of-factly. Hatharu, the younger brother of Hathori, now attended an all-boys high school. In his free time he attended to Asheno's every want. The young god had sensed, but could not yet articulate, Hatharu's guilt over being happy at his father's death and the subsequent desire to atone by serving Asheno faithfully. Whenever he was home, Hatharu would arrange Asheno's pillows and blankets, much in the manner of a bird building its nest. At dinnertime, Asheno would watch, fascinated, as Hatharu took tiny, quick bites of his food. The animalistic tics of individual Dzunis amused Asheno. For example, Ahame's senses of smell and hearing were at their best when he flicked his tongue between his lips. And Khisa, the three-year-old tiger, always became lazy and sleepy after she ate, especially a big meal. Nharu the rabbit bounced visibly whenever he walked.
"Will I be well in time for the banquet?"
"You always are," said the nurse, cleaning the thermometer. Asheno didn't want to miss the banquet, the only time he saw all twelve Dzuni together. That horrid cat had no part in the Dzuni, therefore he didn't count.
Three days later, the time for the banquet arrived. Asheno sat in a cushioned chair, resplendent in the hekasho of the Dzuni God, in the great hall where all the Shomas gathered for the New Year party. The Dzuni banquet would not begin for another hour. Asheno impatiently scanned the room, observing the chatting groups of relatives. Huki, the rat, stood surrounded by distant relatives cooing over his lovely hekasho. The sight pleased Asheno greatly—he had personally chosen Huki's hekasho. Equally pleasing to Asheno was seeing Lhadoman looking angrily at Huki and his admirers. So Huki still rankled the cat, eh? A nefarious idea trickled into Asheno's mind.
"Bring Lhadoman to me," ordered Asheno to Hatharu.
Lhadoman approached suspiciously. The God hadn't spoken to him since that awful time he'd seen Lhadoman's true form three years ago. Why talk to him now?
"Good evening, Lhadoman," Asheno said in the most imperial tone he could command.
"Good evening," Lhadoman responded, mystified.
Asheno regarded Lhadoman from beneath lowered eyelids. "You are an outcast, as you know, and for excellent reasons."
"Yes, Asheno." The cat couldn't prevent his expression from twitching at the hated "o" word. The next question, however, left his jaw hanging open in surprise.
"Do you want to join the Dzuni?"
Lhadoman's mouth moved, as he searched for the answer.
"Well? I don't have all night," snapped Asheno.
"Yes! I want to be a real Dzuni!" blurted Lhadoman. Turning from his finicky and doting old aunt, Khazuma noticed Lhadoman in front of Asheno, and worried, began walking to them. It was not possible for the cat to have a good experience with the God, he knew.
Asheno bent his back and leaned closer to Lhadoman from his taller perch, until their heads were even. "If you can defeat Huki in a martial arts battle before you turn twenty," whispered Asheno, relishing each word, "you can join the Dzuni." Inwardly, he laughed at the hope in Lhadoman's eyes. "But you must tell no one about our little bet, not even Shoma-mharu," he added, after seeing the man approaching from the left. Asheno straightened up.
"Now go," he commanded, "I can't stand you any longer." He giggled. He knew that Huki was superior in martial arts, even though he'd only started training under Shoma-mharu last year at Asheno's behest. It would be fun, watching the cat grow more frustrated and angry in his pursuit of Huki.
"What is the point of all this?"
"The point of all what?" asked Hatsuharu, entering the annex kitchen where Haku alternately sighing and sipping tea. It was the same kitchen where the two first became aware of the ghost wolf's existence.
"All the visions I've been having. Faran-Zhuku insists it's necessary in order for me to fully understand the curse, but I don't see how knowing every detail about every cursed Dzuni…"
"Whoa, wait, you still haven't told me anything about your visions. What are you talking about?" Hatsuharu poured himself a cup of the now-cold tea.
"Faran-Zhuku…how do I explain…makes me watch the lives of our predecessors. At least, I believe they're our predecessors because Asheno is their head. The wolf hasn't even told me for sure." Haku rested his chin on one hand. "I'm exhausted—there are so many people to keep track of, and it's all so complicated, the family relationships, the curse and its nature. The stories jump back and forth in time, making things even more confusing. Faran-Zhuku just won't stop, and I'm not having a vision right now because he finally wore himself out."
The other Dzuni had learned to recognize the times when Haku became entrapped in a vision. Haku didn't disappear, but his eyes would focus on seemingly nonexistent objects and he reacted to events no one else could see. Usually he stayed stationary, like a spectator in his seat at a game. Even so, Hatsuharu and Hotohori had taken it upon themselves to gently lead Haku back to the privacy of his room, to prevent gossip from the servants and trouble with Asheno.
"Shit, I just want Faran-Zhuku to…oh, I don't know what I want anymore. He was right. I don't understand what the hell is going on in this family."
"Neither do I," said Hatsuharu. "But it sounds like the Dzuni problem is so deeply entrenched in the family that it's now impossible to comprehend the family without comprehending the curse first."
"Congratulations. Faran-Zhuku should've possessed you instead."
"Hey, don't get mad at me." The tension gradually subsided as the two sat in silence for a few minutes.
"Well…" ventured Hatsuharu, "which Dzuni have you been seeing?"
"I've seen more than half of them, but the visions mostly focus on the dog, cat, rat, snake and dragon. The snake and dragon are very similar to Tori and Kho, but the dog is different from me. The dog, Shehure, wants to find an antidote to the curse, and apparently there is one but the visions haven't gotten there yet. Shehure is very good at manipulation and deception, unlike me," smiled Haku ruefully, "but he has a good heart. He believes that the games he plays and the way he uses people are ultimately for the good of the family. Asheno was close to him."
"I wonder what happened."
"Ha, I daresay I'll find out soon enough."
"When you have these visions, do you actually become one of the people or just watch from a distance?"
"Nowadays Faran-Zhuku makes me inhabit the body of the main character. It's really hard, because nothing good ever happens to the Dzuni. The worst is when Asheno is the person I become."
"No!"
"Yes. In the most recent vision, he was only ten or eleven, but he was already insane."
"Really? Why?"
"Apparently that's the fate of Dzuni gods. Under the old curse, anyway. They go mad and die before their 25th birthdays, as a kind of sacrifice for the sake of the Dzuni."
"Whoever put the curse on the Shoma family must've had some grudge," muttered Hatsuharu. "That almost makes me feel sorry for Asheno. Of course, he's not dead…"
"I suppose I'll discover why soon."
"What about this curse that you and I and the others are under? Have you found out any more about it?"
"Oh, no. The visions are only ¼ of the way through the old curse, at the rate Faran-Zhuku's going."
"Tori just told me today—she was going to talk to you later—that she's found a tiny old library with manuscripts and art referring to the Dzuni curse. She wouldn't say much, except it's still hard to find meaningful information because censorship by our family was so rigorous and she's afraid of what Asheno would do if he found out. She also said there's a book with the old curse's antidote, but the library's owner hasn't found it yet."
"She's right, Asheno's tightening his leash on us even now." The teenagers weren't allowed to leave the estate grounds unless they had express permission from Asheno, during the vacation months. "Intriguing, but my sense is the antidote to the old curse won't do us any good."
Another pause followed.
"Have you seen the cow yet?" Hatsuharu asked, slightly hopeful.
"Not yet, but I'm sure I will soon."
And the cow will probably be tormented as much as his or her fellows were, realized Haku. Back then, Asheno enjoyed playing with his Dzuni as much as he did now, although he hadn't been as successful in the present. Haku shuddered mentally as he remembered Ekhuze and what Asheno had just done to poor Lhadoman in the latest vision. And what horrors had Ekhuze's predecessor committed? Instinctively, Haku knew he'd end up repressing the cow's torture stories.
Faran-Zhuku
Good. Haku is starting to pick out the cycle of despair caused by the curse. Working myself into the ground didn't go to waste. However, I have much more ground to cover, before the rest of the Dzuni arrive. I must finish the visions about the curse and its end.
Personally, I have to admit I'm glad Haku has borne the burden well so far. It heartens me that he will not collapse in the future—for what is yet to come is far worse than past visions.