A sapphire sat in the middle of Kuon's palm, lit by a single sphere hovering inside the empty tent. The intricate vibrance of blue and purple that refracted the light should have stunned him after months of nothing but gray. But all he felt was pain. The world around him seemed to shuffle by, the stillness of night interrupted by soft whispers and moving bodies. Troops, perhaps, marching from one place to another with no knowledge of what he had lost. Of what rested in his hand.
He'd found the sapphire beside Kyoko's body, dropped from her pocket half-buried in the dirt. The edges were jagged and irregular, broken from the spell that had destroyed the necklace it had once belonged to. It was an almost poetic symbol of his own shattered promises.
He clenched his fist around the sapphire, the edges digging into his palm. He did not let go despite the sting of pain. A drop of blood rolled down his hand and only then did he open his fist to stare once more. The cut from the sapphire was small, but it no longer healed as it once did. It did not matter though. The pain lessened with every beat of his heart until it was numb. A comforting blanket of nothing. A blessed nothing.
For a long time it remained that way. A stillness of body and heart.
Then someone invaded his sanctuary.
He recognized the aura right away. Bright and pure, with a touch of mischievousness, there was no better way to describe Shin.
Kuon closed his eyes, focusing on the bright aura and light magic that resided in Shin's essence. The discomfort that used to accompany any close proximity with light users was no longer there. That little tick had vanished along with all the darkness in Kuon's soul after the contract had been destroyed.
The tent flap opened, and Kuon kept his eyes closed. Maybe Shin would leave him be if he thought he was napping.
"I know you're not asleep."
Shin plopped down beside Kuon, the movement jostling him so that if he had been asleep, he certainly wasn't now. Kuon grunted in annoyance, cracking open one eye. He was met with a sympathetic expression.
"Even when you fall asleep at your desk, you're always plastered to the table." Shin lolled his head to the side, sticking out a tongue from an open mouth in a poor imitation of someone sleeping. "Unless you've mastered sleeping while sitting up since the month or so since I last saw you."
"You saw me last night." When Kuon had nearly killed him.
"Not much of a family reunion, if you ask me." Shin pulled his hands out from behind his back, revealing a bottle in one hand and two tin glasses in another. "But this! This, I think is more appropriate for a reunion."
Kuon watched without reaction as Shin poured himself a drink and took a long draft. He shivered as the liquid made it was way down, hissing through his teeth.
"Ugh, this stuff tastes like piss." Shin poured himself another glass, sipping at this one instead. "But it was the only thing I could find, all things considering. The army doesn't bring any sort of alcohol as it travels. One of Uncle's stuffier rules in my opinion."
"I think it makes sense," said Kuon. "You don't want a drunk army, and while it can help the soldier's spirits, it usually becomes more of a problem than a solution."
Shin held up a finger, plainly annoyed that Kuon was talking sense, as Shin usually was.
"Point is," said Shin. "That some sorry lug from the city decided it was a good idea to waste time grabbing a store of their liquor before they ran. Which, I honestly can't tell if they had great priorities, or terrible ones considering that city was lit-er-ally burning and being smothered in misama."
Shin poured a drink into the second cup this time, holding it out to Kuon.
"No thanks," said Kuon. "You can enjoy it."
"Drink." Shin held it closer. "It will help."
"No, it won't."
Shin pressed him with his gaze, losing all semblance of levity. The look stirred something in Kuon, but he couldn't identify what it was. The feeling was too small.
"You need this," said Shin. "You look like hell,"
"I'm fine."
"Bullshit."
Kuon sighed, looking back down at the stone in his grip. He was fine, even if Shin didn't believe him. All injuries he'd sustained in the madness had healed before he broke his relic. In terms of his body, there really was nothing keeping him resting in the tent. But that wasn't really what Shin had meant. His emotions. Dealing with Kyoko's- dealing with his loss. But what more was there for him to do? He'd cried his tears last night over Kyoko's body, if there were any more tears to cry, he'd have done so already.
Kuon rolled the stone in his hand. "I don't expect you to believe me—"
"You're right. I don't, but please. Continue lying to me."
Kuon shot him an annoyed look. "Like you're one to talk."
Shin's grin jumped back onto his face. It was the brightest thing he wore. Despite the warm colors of the Ashuron military uniform, it somehow looked dull from the crumpled mess it had become.
"I'm not denying anything." Shin took another sip from his cup, making another face. "I'm angry as hell and sad enough to kill something. I really really liked Kyoko. Not to mention how it has affected Kanae."
The grin slid off his face again, something that had become all too common.
"Shoot, I was trying not to think of that."
He swirled the drink in his cup for a moment, staring at the insides. He took a breath, downed the entire thing and slammed the empty cup on the ground. He held out Kuon's still full one, his eyes pleading openly with no hint of trickery.
"Don't let me finish this alone."
Silently, Kuon took the offered cup. He considered it for a moment before pocketing the sapphire. His cousin nearly laughed when Kuon held out his now empty hand for the bottle.
"The rest is yours," said Shin, handing it over. "Though I suggest you don't drink it all at— Hey! What are you doing?"
Shin jumped to his feet, gripping his hair as Kuon dumped the contents of both his cup and the bottle onto the ground.
"Do you know what I had to trade to get that?" Shin said, exasperated. "And you got it all over the tent too. Good job just… way to throw away all my goodwill why don't you?"
"You shouldn't be drinking this much," said Kuon. "Who knows if there will be another sneak attack."
"As if. The Accursed are hurt as much as we are according to our sources. The only thing they could do is send some low-tier beasts, and they won't bother with the two inhibitors right now."
Shin sulked, lowering to the ground again as he ran a hand through his hair. Kuon felt briefly sorry for the man who was obviously in distress. Those sympathies were chased away a second later.
"How am I supposed to get you to talk about your feelings now?" grumbled Shin.
"You won't," he said decidedly. "There's nothing really to talk about."
"Nothing to talk about?" said Shin, incredulous. "Nothing? Do you even hear yourself? Kyoko hasn't been dead one day and you don't want to grieve over it?"
"I've had my time." He reached into his pocket, hand curling around the gem he had just placed there. "Anyway, I don't see what's gotten you so upset." Shin was many things, but a heavy drinker was not one of them. "We're not in that bad a position, all things considered."
"All things considered," mocked Shin, obviously starting to feel a little of the drink's influence. "Don't you get it Kuon? This is like, the worst it can get! Worse than anything we even considered!"
That seemed rather melodramatic, even coming from Shin. Kuon of course had felt that way, but Shin? He didn't have his crushing guilt or his heartbreak at his Love's departure. Shin hadn't felt the void where her bright soul had once been. He hadn't cast the spell that had slowly encased her body and choked out her life. Shin hadn't—
Kuon shook his head, hard.
"What are you on about?" said Kuon, voice rough.
As Shin opened his mouth, a horn blared to life. Another one followed, and then another one, encircling the whole camp. Kuon recognized them. The trumpet of the king.
King Kuu had arrived.
Kuon shared a look with Shin, then his cousin scrambled to his feet.
"Come," said Shin, grabbing Kuon's wrist. "We need to talk to the king as soon as possible."
"About what?" He allowed Shin to pull him up, reluctant to be hurried along. "Can't we let Lory fill him in?" He suddenly didn't look forward to his reunion with his father.
"About everything," said Shin, waving his hand in the air. "There's like, a ton to talk about. Mostly about the Djinn and how we're going to take him down."
"Take down the Djinn?"
Kuon pulled up short just before exiting the tent. How drunk was Shin? The Djinn was dead. Surely Shin knew the Djinn was only living through his contracts. The Accursed were their main problem.
"Did I say that?" said Shin, his nonchalance so fake it was insulting. "I meant the Accursed, obviously. I definitely wouldn't mean the Dark Djinn. No way. And I definitely haven't been ordered not to tell you anything about it."
Realization crept in. For the first time since entering this tent, he felt a surge of desire to leave. To do something other than sit here.
There was more to this. More to everything that had happened. It had all paused for these few hours as Kuon had mourned, but the situation came roaring back. The Accursed. His people. The burning city and the fallen tree. All of it mattered.
And all of it was still in jeopardy.
He gripped his cousin's arm so hard the man winced.
"Tell me what you know," said Kuon. "All of it. What's happened?"
"I just said, I've been ordered not to tell." He shoved Kuon's hand off, turning away and heaving a great sigh. "Which is why it's so good I'm just talking to myself. At the wind. Complaining about the fact that the Djinn is alive and I want to slit that monster's throat."
Horror thudded in Kuon's chest.
Alive? The Djinn was alive? That was impossible.
But even as his instincts shook in terror, another part of him realized he should have known all along. Like pieces of a puzzle that should have been so obvious. The authority and weight of the Djinn had been too powerful for a being that subsisted on nothing but the siphoned power from his followers. How could the Djinn exist only as a spirit and continue to stay in this world and complete new contracts? It would need some sort of tether. And what better tether than his own body?
Shin had been right. This all could get a whole lot worse.
Kuon grabbed his sword from where it had been laying on the ground and tied it around his waist. Shin watched with obvious annoyance.
"And you don't even look ruffled," he said. "I'm still freaking out."
"That's what you usually do."
Shin grabbed at his tunic over his heart, giving a dramatic wince. "Ouch, you wound me Cousin."
"But am I wrong?"
Shin considered for only half a second.
"Nah, I really do think it's your job."
Kuon gave his cousin a jab, probably a tad harder than would be normally friendly. But he felt more like himself than he had sitting on the floor and staring at Kyoko's sapphire. He had a mission. Something to do. A path to follow. He wouldn't veer from it this time.
He led the way from his tent through the campgrounds, Shin trailing behind him. He noted with a passive glance that while the sun was just starting to crest the horizon, most people were awake. He guessed that many were like him; Too haunted from recent events to sleep.
His passage through them didn't go unnoticed. Whispers trailed his path, hushed by the quiet of morning and the uneasy calm that had overtaken the camp. He did his best to ignore it like he usually would.
"They're all really confused," supplied Shin, though Kuon hadn't spoken his observations. His cousin must have sensed it. "Lots of rumors going around. Most of it jumbled with the truth. But the most popular one is that you were hiding with the champions and came just in time to kill Cain."
Kuon sent him an odd look. "They think Cain and I are separate people?"
"Most of them, yeah." He gave Kuon a wry smile. "But there seems to be a strong smaller group that think you and Cain are the same person, but you infiltrated the Accursed on your father's orders to gain information and save the city. Something about saving a bunch of people as you all fled."
"Sounds like a mess," said Kuon absently.
Shin hummed in agreement, scooting around a pile of supplies in a particularly narrow area. "Those are just the more prominent rumors. They change by the hour."
"And what do they say about Kyoko?"
When Shin didn't answer, Kuon looked back. His cousin was giving him a strange look. Like he was expecting something.
"Shin?"
"You…" The man trailed off, chewing on his words before shaking his head. "They're almost all the same. You loved Kyoko, whatever your identity, and you're mourning her loss. She's… generally liked. Since she had just found the cure and all."
Kuon gave a nod in approval. That was the way it should be. Her legacy should be connected to the people she had helped and the lives she had saved. Not the crazy Accursed she had married.
Unbidden came the memory of when they'd traded vows. Her golden eyes had shimmered brightly despite tired lines that encircled them. The borrowed shawl had looked dull compared to her radiance and she had looked every bit the queen she might have one day been. In her gaze he had seen their life, striving through fire and ash to cave a brighter future together.
A future that was impossible now.
"—un? Kuon!"
Kuon started.
Shin had him by the arm, as if he had been shaking him. Worry creased Shin's browns into a tight line.
"Are you feeling alright?" said Shin. "You just stopped, and you weren't responding."
Kuon gulped down large breaths of air, only now realizing he was shaking. The second he noticed, however, the shaking stopped. He pushed Shin's concern away.
"I'm alright. Just tired."
Shin didn't question it, though his expression clearly showed he wanted to. They were almost at the tent now. There wasn't any time for discussing personal concerns. He saw his father's horse picketed outside the tent and knew the king would be inside. After a quick nod to the guard stationed at the entrance, they were let in without question.
As he suspected, both Lory and Kuu were inside, obviously in the middle of a discussion. His father still wore his red traveling cloak thrown over one shoulder to reveal dust coated boots getting sand all over the tent floor. Lory was dressed for the day as well, wearing all the regalia of a duke that he usually left in a drawer in his study. The extra sash and rings along with the palace physician's pendant were more than enough to make most people stop and listen to anything he said.
Kuu stalled when he saw Kuon enter, his mouth falling open.
"K-Kuon?" he said. "Is that you? You…"
Only then did Kuon remember that he was no longer an Accursed, and that his father likely had no idea what had happened in the past twelve hours.
Before Kuon could explain, his father embraced him. Pure panic made him freeze in terror. He couldn't do this. He couldn't meet his father's love and joy only to tear it away from him. It was too much.
He was too late in returning the hug, but Kuu didn't notice. The man pulled away, wiping his eyes with shaking hands and barking out a joyous laugh.
"Finally, after all these years," said Kuu. "You managed to break the contract. I can't believe it. Just wait 'till your mother hears, she's going to be ecstatic." Kuu shot Lory an expression that might have been scolding had he not been smiling. "You should have said something. I know you like to leave good news last, but this should have been first on your list."
"It's a little complicated, Sir." Lory hadn't moved or responded to Kuu's glee, watching Kuon with wary eyes. "And I would not put it under the 'good news' category."
Kuu's smile slid off his face.
"How is this not good news?" said Kuu. "My son is no longer bound by the contract to the Djinn." But as the king finally looked at Kuon, really looked at him, he saw something there in Kuon's expression that morphed his into concern.
"What happened, Son?"
Kuon lowered his eyes, wishing he were anywhere but here. The words spilled from his mouth, tactless and hollow before he could summon the desire to care.
"Kyoko's dead. I destroyed my relic to stop myself from losing more control. I'll be dead soon as a result."
The expression on his father's face was worse than he could have imagined. Kuu recoiled as if hit by a blow, Kuon the traitor who had so unmercifully dealt it
From the other side of the room, Lory gave him a disapproving glare.
"Gods above," whispered Kuu. "You're not kidding. This… no. How could this get any worse?"
"It can," said Kuon, and he barreled on, ignoring the firm "Kuon" from Shin as he kept going. "Apparently the Djinn is alive. A fact that Lory wasn't going to tell me."
Shin gave a groan, moving to hide from Lory's glare.
"I wonder why I trust you with any information," said Lory mildly. "Considering how often you blab."
"Technically, I trusted you with that information," pipped up Shin. "Since Kanae was the one that found out and all. And I didn't tell him! He just happened to overhear me freaking out."
Lory scowled. "What were you even doing near him? I told you to leave him alone."
"Well, you see, telling is very different from ordering and you know I can't leave my precious Cousin alone for very long."
Kuon barely heard them. His focus was on his dad who had sunk to the ground and put a hand over his face. Never in Kuon's life have had seen his father looked so defeated. His head was bent as if the weight of the circlet on his brow would pull him below the earth.
"She's dead?" said Kuu, his voice barely a whisper. "And Rosa?"
"Dead," said Kuon, his voice almost as low as his dad's.
"I feared as much." Kuu removed his hand from his face. Kuon expected to see tears, but the king's eyes were remarkably dry. "When Galyth — the other champion in my squadron — burst into tears, we feared the worst. But I had hoped it was wrong."
His usually piercing blue eyes glazed with an emotion Kuon knew well. He just couldn't decide if it was apathy or hopelessness.
It suddenly struck Kuon how much he was like his dad. They were both tenderhearted, loved with a fierceness that would never fade, and tore themselves apart trying to protect their family. While Kuon had learned to hide much of what he felt out of a need to hide his curse, Kuu never had. It was that openness that many appreciated in their king. He was known as an honest and good man.
But this was also his greatest weakness. The man already had the weight of the entire kingdom on his shoulders. There had been countless kings before him that had ruled in peace and prosperity, but not Kuu. He was shouldered with the burden of one of the greatest wars of their kingdom, as well as inheriting the wars his father had started with the other surrounding nations.
Part of what had allowed Kuu to persevere through the bloodshed had been the unyielding faith of his wife and family. But piece by piece, that family had started to fall apart. His brother had betrayed him, his wife had almost been crippled, and now his beloved son was doomed to die. Kuu was a great man, and he would never understand just how much Kuon looked up to him as both a father and a king. But even a king had his limits. Everyone did.
Kuon feared this may be Kuu's.
"We'll figure something out," he heard himself say. "We always do. Who knows? Maybe there's a way for Rosa to come back." She was a phoenix after all.
Kuu gave a tired smile. "Thanks, but we're not exactly in a position where we can rely on that hope."
Kuon dipped his head. "No. We're not."
"Son."
Kuon barely managed to hide his flinch. His father sounded so broken. So lost. He hadn't even had time to process his son was going to die before they piled the problems of the kingdom on him. Kuon felt another stab of guilt for barreling through everything without giving Kuu enough time to process.
"I'm fine, Dad," said Kuon, wishing to relieve his father of at least one burden he'd thrust as his feet so unceremoniously. "You don't have to worry about me. I feel much better without the contract."
The dissonance between his mind and soul was astonishing. Even as he ached at the pain of losing Kyoko, his soul felt lighter than it had in literal years. The darkness he had continuously fought for years was gone.
The irony of it almost made him want to laugh.
The king's eyes searched him with obvious doubt. The emotion softened into something so painfully gentle it hurt to look at. It was exactly the type of expression he hadn't wanted to elicit. It made his numb heart tremble.
"But there has to be something we can do," said Kuu. "I will not let you die, Kuon."
Kuon shook his head, unable to look his father in the eyes and continue to see the loss already aging them.
"Thank you," said Kuon. "But I've cheated the consequences for my own actions for long enough. It's time I paid the price."
"Price be damned. You've already paid it ten times over."
"Dad…"
"No! This Djinn has already taken enough away from my family. I don't want it to take you too."
Kuon closed his eyes, accepting the guilt as if flowed through him. He should feel ashamed of the pain he had caused everyone. He could hear Lory trying to pacify his father as his cousin chipped in ridiculous solutions. They were still fighting. They hadn't given up or given in. Only Kuon had a clear view of the situation.
"Enough," he said, his voice a low timbre that seemed to echo through the tent. It silenced the others, and he opened his eyes to see them all staring at him,
"We don't have time for this," he said, adjusting his tone to normal. "If we are to spend time on anything, it should in finding a way to revive the phoenix. She is the one that can reverse this situation."
Assuming it could be reversed at this point. He paced the room, the thought of staying still suddenly unbearable.
"We're just trying to help," said Shin. "We don't want to watch you die without trying anything."
"We did try," said Kuon and he felt unnaturally calm above his antsy movements, focused on what he knew needed to be done. "We tried over and over again for years, and nothing worked. You think some eleventh-hour solution is going to magically come our way and solve everything? You think it can save the city and bring back our dead? No. The ones that can save our kingdom are the people in this room. Because that is all we have. It has to be enough. It can be. But only if we focus on what we can do rather than looking back at what can't be changed."
And how he wished things could change. That he could turn back the clock and redo everything from the moment he met Kyoko. He thought of all the wasted time pushing down his feelings for her when they could have spent it together with her.
"Kuon is right, Your Majesty," said Lory. He was always the one to keep a level head in these sorts of situations. His experience with the information network of the kingdom served to callous many of the tender feelings that would so often cripple the inexperienced. "We need to act quickly if we are to save everyone. Which is why I think we need to retreat immediately."
Kuon gave Lory a sharp look. That was not what he had been expecting.
"We can't retreat," said Kuon. "We know where the Djinn is. We can kill it and end this once and for all."
"But how?" said Lory, obviously just as frustrated. "We can't even get to the Dark Djinn. The entire city is coated in the miasma and the only people that can traverse through it unscathed are you — which with recent changes, we can't be sure of anymore— and Kanae, who has been badly injured. Recovery will take her months, even with the best care."
"I can walk through the miasma," he insisted. "And if I can't, it's not like it matters much anyway."
He saw Shin flinch, his teeth audible clicking together. Lory's expression darkened in disapproval. They obviously didn't appreciate being reminded of the very real fact that his time was limited.
"What then?" said Lory. "You have no way of destroying the Djinn, let alone the power to fight the Accursed and monsters that would be down there. You'd be walking to your death!"
"And I don't like it either," commented Shin, likely thinking about Kanae as much about him.
Their meddling irritated Kuon. He dug in his mental heels, unwilling to give up this one thing he could do.
"What about the champions?" said Kuon. "Maybe they can survive the miasma."
Lory bristled, an extra cut in his words. "I'm not risking their lives on a whim. They are too valuable as the list tie to Rosa on this earth and the only ones able to defend against the Accursed."
"But isn't this what they agreed to? To fighting the Djinn and protecting the kingdom at all costs?"
"There is a difference between valor and frivolity. You know this! You're letting your inevitable death cloud your judgment."
His heart rang hollow in his chest, the words stinging.
"I'm not." Kuon almost choked. How did they not understand? It wasn't clouding his judgment but enhancing it. He could see what a gift his life could be. A tool. He kept his words steady even as his hands shook. "The Accursed are injured, and we know that the Djinn is alive. We have to take him out now. Without Rosa, how can we hope to face him in the future? He can always make new Accursed. But we can not gain any more champions. It's now or never."
But Lory shook his head.
"At the very most we could send in 2 people," he said. "And that would not even register as an attack to the Accused. Maybe if you still had your relic, it could be possible. But you've weakened, Kuon. And we need to focus on getting the civilians away from here as fast as possible and regroup for a focused attack. The monster army has become too big. We can not win against them without the city wall. They've out maneuvered us. We've lost."
The thudding in his heart hurt. His head felt stuffed with a buzz that kept repeating Lory's words over and over again.
We lost.
Kuon refused to believe it. There was still more they could do. There had to be.
He would have kept arguing except his father interrupted them. He hadn't moved from his spot on the floor, legs crossed and head still resting in his hands.
"Do you mind, Lory?" Kuu's voice was soft, but there was an air of command to it. "I'd like to speak with Kuon, alone. Please."
The Duke looked at him, clearly surprised by the request in the middle of a council. But then on seeing Kuu's face, understanding dawned and he swiftly motioned at Shin.
"Let's give them their time." They both moved to leave, Lory pausing for a moment at the door. "I've already sent word to the other leaders and generals. We'll be having a meeting in fifteen minutes."
"I'll be there," promised Kuu. He still hadn't moved. "Just give me those fifteen minutes, and I'll be there."
Lory nodded once, then let the tent flap close behind him.
Stillness descended on them. It filled Kuon with a buzzing of restlessness, still infuriated by Lory's desire to retreat. How dare he? They had the opportunity to put a stop to this thousand-year long war and Lory wanted to run and hide?
Kuon wasn't going to let that happen.
"I'm going to kill the Djinn," said Kuon. "I'll go in there alone if I have to."
"Kuon."
"One of the Accursed, she's been impersonating Setsuko. She has this strange fixation on me."
"Kuon."
"Maybe I can use that to get in deep enough where the Djinn—."
"Ren!"
Kuon froze. The name gripped him like a vice, contracting his heart with such tender memories that they hurt to recall. Kyoko had been the last person to call him by that name. Her voice had always been the thing to pull him from the darkness, reminding him of who he was. Even spoken by someone else, the shadow of those feeling was enough to shake him.
His father gave a sad smile, almost as if he could see into Kuon's heart and understand why his true name had been so effective in stopping him.
"In fifteen minutes," said Kuu. "I'm going to walk out that entrance and be the king that Ashuron needs. I'll do my duty to protect my country and people. But until that moment when I walk out the door, I just want to be your parent."
His father's voice broke, splintering Kuon's heart. All this pain his father was feeling, it was his fault. He'd inflicted it with his selfishness and rage. Kyoko had always berated him for not caring for himself and look at what had happened when he didn't listen. He'd hurt the ones he loved most.
But even then, the shame wasn't enough to still the jittery feeling in his chest that commanded him to do something. Unable to continue looking at his father's grief-stricken face a second longer, he looked away.
"Fine," he said. "I think I can do that for fifteen minutes."
He sat down beside his father, unsure what else to say. He could apologize, but it wouldn't change the inevitable or the fact that Kuon didn't regret his decision to break his relic. It had been the only option.
He was grateful when after a minute of silence, Kuu spoke up.
"When you were little, I used to take you with me when I made a circuit of the kingdom. You hated coming with. You'd rather stay at home and get into trouble with Shin, terrorize your mother or wander the gardens for hours. Then I'd make you meet all those officials and noble families."
"I remember," grumbled Kuon. He had been a particularly rambunctious brat, even without his cousin's help. "I wasn't fond of the adults. I thought plants were better company."
Kuu gave a fond chuckle, his tone lighter at the reminiscing. "That may have been more my fault. Besides Shin, you never spent time with anyone your age. I was so focused on being a good king that I forced you into the adult world, forgetting to let you be a kid. Even when you were young, I expected too much from you."
What was his father trying to say?
"It's not your fault I was an anti-social space case," said Kuon. He was the one that had always chosen the most difficult path for himself.
"But I am at fault for putting so much pressure on you as a child," said Kuu.
The man was broken. Gods, it hurt to see him like this, hunched and practically begging for some miracle that would solve everything. This couldn't continue. Kuon leaned into this father's side, offering a physical reminder that he was not gone yet. His father recognized the gesture, leaning back in return. His breath hitched as he drew one in.
"I'm sorry, Kuon." Kuu sounded exhausted "I just… it's like with Julie's legs all over again. I feel so helpless."
Kuon shook his head to indicated it was alright. He felt oddly calm despite the heavy emotions filling his stomach.
"I'm the one that should apologize," he said. "I didn't think about you or mom. I just… didn't know any other way to stop."
"We'll find a way," said Kuu, a new somewhat manic determination in his gaze. "Maybe if we kill the Djinn first… I don't know. We'll find the impossible."
"Maybe we will," said Kuon, though he doubted it existed. He could feel his strength seeping out of him hour by hour. "We'll see what Hiroaki can figure out."
Kuu's mouth twitched in a smile. "I can tell you're humoring me."
Kuon's voice was almost a whisper. "I'm glad you can tell."
They sat that way in silence until Kuon finally stood up and held out his hand for his father. Their fifteen minutes were up. As calloused as it seemed, the time for Kuu's mourning was over. They had more important things to take care of. Kuu looked at the offered hand as if he expected it to wither away at his touch.
"I'm not gone yet, Dad," said Kuon softly. "Please, let me do what I can with these last days of my life. Let me do my part in bringing down the Djinn and bring peace to my people."
Let me make Kyoko's life worth something.
With tears glistening on his cheeks, Kuu took the offered hand. He left the grieving father behind and straightened into the full height of a powerful king. The sorrow he wore didn't detract from his strength. It proved how incredible he was, able to bear so much and lead with such a kind heart.
Kuon let go of his father's hand, pride swelling as he pressed a fist to his chest in a salute.
"My king," said Kuon, reverence in his voice. "I think it's time to lead your people."
His father returned the salute, his eyes shadowed in sadness. "Sometimes I feel this duty asks too much of us."
"Then it's a good thing we are not alone."
Outside, Shin and Lory waited for them. Beyond them, Kuon could see the meeting tent, the entrance left open to show the dozens of people waiting inside. They were all waiting for the king to command them.
Now all Kuon had to do was convince them that they needed to attack the Djinn instead of retreat.
Kanae woke with her mind sharp despite the deep sleep she'd been savoring. Her brain had worked while she slept, whirring through the past three days and sifting through the information. The connection it had made woke her instantly, buzzing like an irritating fly she needed to immediately swat.
Her body groaned and creaked as she sat up. The pain had become a dull ache as it migrated to every muscle in her body. She rolled the stiffness from her shoulders and neck, looking around.
She was still inside the same tent surrounded by other patients. Many slept. Others sat on their blankets, talking quietly to a visitor or other patients. She didn't see any physicians. Scratch that, Hiroaki slept on a mat next to her.
She woke the man with a quick shake. He jerked in surprise, staring at her with too-wide eyes that spoke of nightmares. His shoulders slumped a moment later.
"Oh, Kanae. I'm glad to see you're awake." He stretched and yawned, glancing around with a frown. "What time is it? It looks like it's still dark out."
"I need paper," said Kanae, ignoring his question. "Lots of it and an extra inkpot."
It was a testament to his trust in her that he simply nodded, still yawning as he stumbled out the tent flap, calling for someone to fetch what she wanted. She kneaded her head as she waited. A good night's sleep had done nothing to lessen the awfulness of Kyoko's death. She still felt the same simmering anger as before, less violent than it had been, but no less potent. Her stomach felt like led.
"Twig," she said, sensing the dryad near her. "Did anything happen while I was sleeping?"
The dryad didn't answer.
She removed her hands from her face, frowning at the ground beside her. "Hey! Dryads don't sleep, don't pretend to—"
She stopped short.
A strangely shaped piece of bark sat beside her. It twisted and branched out like a miniature tree, but its base was bloated and spherical, a lighter brown than the rest. It hummed with the soft glow of light magic and she recognized the duel sources within as Twig's and the fig tree's.
Immediately Kanae knew what had happened. What he had warned would happen eventually.
Twig had lost the ability to hold his human shape.
She cupped her hands around the — Seed? Bark? Sapling? What should I even call this? — and held it close. His life still hummed within, but it was a faint thing. He needed to find a new source to feed off, and the fig tree's seed needed to find new grounds to grow. She wished she knew how long they had before either of them expired.
I'll find you something, she thought, feeling unusually protective. I just need to finish this and then… then I'll help you.
Revenge for Kyoko's death would come first.
Hiroaki returned a moment later with what she had asked for as well as a small lap table. She tucked the pod into her shirt pocket, taking what Hiroaki had brought and began scribbling quickly, dumping everything in her head into the pages before her.
"We might need more paper," she said, dipping her pen into the extra inkpot.
He did as she asked again, fetching more paper from whoever had it and returning to sit beside her. His silence didn't bother her. It was the open concern in his gaze that did.
"How are you… fairing?" he said.
He didn't have to clarify what he was talking about. Word must have gotten around the whole campsite about Kyoko's death and Cain's rampage.
She pointedly ignored him.
He cleared his throat, sensing that Kanae wasn't going to answer and switched subjects. "I'm a little shaken up after everything. I just can't believe that dad would act like that. It was so unlike him and… for a while I really thought that if Cain could find a way to remove his relic that I could do the same for dad. But now, after the prince destroyed his relic and… knowing what dad has done."
He fell silent. The sound of a pen scratching the paper was loud in her ears.
"What are you even writing?" he asked with curiosity, visibly pushing aside his melancholy.
She didn't stop her scribbling to answer. "Everything I saw in the caves. All the notes I leafed through, the passages I remember. Everything."
And maybe some of it would make sense to Hiroaki. She had a suspicion she needed him to confirm.
He looked over her shoulder and sucked a breath in surprise. Yes, she thought that might be his reaction.
"Is this… what I think it is?"
"I think so." She finished the last page with a flourish, staring at the disjointed notes and pages that now covered her bed. She hoped Hiroaki saw what she saw, and hopefully a little more.
"Give me a minute," said Hiroaki, taking the papers in hand and sorting through them. He nodded to himself, the pallor of his delicate skin whitening further. "Okay…. Okay. This is not good."
"Care to join me?" said Kanae, standing up. "This needs to be taken to the king immediately. I'm sure this information will change their plans, whatever they may be."
"Oh, undoubtedly."
Hiroaki scrambled to his feet with more determination than Kanae had expected. He still looked like the wind could tip him over, but he would at least fight against it. He hesitated a moment later.
"Uh, the dryad… I'm sorry, I couldn't do anything for him."
Kanae pointedly ignored his sympathetic gaze, gathered the notes and walked out of the tent, forcing Hiroaki to follow behind. There wasn't anything Kanae could do for him either, not that she needed another reason to fight the Djinn and the Accursed. The dryad and tree seed felt warm against her heart.
Shin was losing his freaking his mind. He was hungry, tired from being up for almost twenty-four hours, and his thigh ached from where an undead had gotten a lucky shot. His head buzzed from the cheap alcohol he'd drunk in a failed attempt to calm down Kuon. All in all, the only nice thing that had happened lately was reuniting with Kanae. And while that had been nice — Like, the highlight of his year nice —it had been overshadowed by her telling him of a giant army of monsters growing beneath their feet by the body of the ultimate evil in this world. If it were anyone else, Shin would have thought they were messing with him.
And now here he was, stuck in a tent full of ego, listening to men prattle about risks versus duty and honor and blah blah blah. Not a one realized how much this had cost them. Not a one of them seemed to burn with the anger that ran so strong through his veins.
Kanae had risked her life venturing below into the tunnels to get this information and for what? So that they could all turn tail and run from the enemy? It seemed every general and most of the champions wanted to retreat and regroup. The only two people that disagreed outright with the plan was predictably Kuon and his father.
The discussion had started panicked enough (Who took the news of the Dark Djinn being alive well?) but the whole meeting had been pandemonium from there on out. It had churned and swelled, crashing like the waves on the beach as they sorted out everything from how many people could walk through the pass at a time, to the number of pikemen they could recruit from the civilians. It was the most chaotic meeting he had ever seen.
While Kuon had thankfully shed both his relic and dramatic flair for violence, he had not been quiet about his disapproval of their plan to run away. Neither was Shin, but no one had asked his opinion. He was sure most didn't even realize he had snuck in.
It all came to a head when one of the general's, practically frothing from fear, pointed at Kuon and shouted. "I'm not sending my men to their death just so you can have company on your suicidal bender!"
Shin raised his eyebrows at that. He had expected that comment to come out of a shriveling nobleman's mouth, not a battle-hardened general.
He had his sword half pulled from his sheath — intending to ask that man to repeat himself but this time at the end of Shin's sword— when a loud bang made him halt. King Kuu had slammed his fist down on the center table, the wood cracked and smoking. Looked like Kuu had used some magic in that swing.
"That's enough!" said Kuu "No one is to speak to my son like that. He has given everything to win this war and still wishes to give more. Am I clear?"
The men muttered like the chastised children that they were, the mood of the room settling for the first time since it all started. Kuu glared around at them all, as if daring them to argue. Many still had questions in their eyes, but they were wise enough to keep them to themselves.
Only a few people didn't look partially confused at Kuon's presence there. One was a little duchess sitting in the sea of men, distinct as both one of the two females in the room and the only person still in their chair. She remained silent, watching everything with heavy eyes from her chair in the front row. She most often studied the prince, a sense of knowing and sadness in her gaze. Her name was Itsumi Momose, if he remembered correctly.
Next was the head general of Mosall, Kuresaki. He was a tall lean man with eyebrows that looked like his dead father's perpetual disappointment in him. Every now and then Kuresaki would gesture with enough vigor that bindings could be seen under his sleeves, only to wince and move more gingerly until he inevitably forgot again. Shin remembered this man had been one of their first allies when Kuon or "Cain" had taken control of the city.
No one else likely knew the whole story. It didn't matter. Destroyed relic or not, Kuon entering the Djinn's lair alone was pretty much suicide, even Shin could recognize that, as frustrating as it was.
It was Hiou that spoke in the quiet, the champion breaking his silence for the first time.
"Not to doubt the prince's abilities," said Hiou lazily. "But even if he were to make it past the monsters and Accursed, what then? I thought the body was destroyed a thousand years ago. If the first king Hikari Hizuri and the phoenix couldn't kill it, how can we expect to be able to do so?"
"We have to try," said Kuu. "The Djinn's body has not been fully restored, according to Kanae's report. If we can get to it before that then we may have a chance."
There was a general muttering, but no one seemed to want to contradict the king in fear of becoming like the table.
It was Lory that spoke up.
"We can't get close," he said for what seemed like the hundredth time. "The miasma now surrounds that area. No one can get near it without dying."
Kuu's expression grew worse in irritation. Not that Shin could blame him. The man was literally doing his best to allow his son to do one last stupid thing with his life. Not that Shin could blame him. Shin wanted his revenge, but he wanted to live through it. They just needed to figure out how that could be done.
He heard a noise at the entrance of the tent. Hiding near the back of the room as he was, he could make out the arguing coming from outside. He recognized that voice.
His heart leaped as he closed the distance in two steps, throwing the tent flap open. Kanae stood outside, light from the morning sun highlighting her figure and shining through the long dark hair that had been pulled from its usual braid. As Shin's eyes adjusted, he could see the bloody bandages and bruises decorating every inch of her beneath her neutral tunic and sash.
Part of him wanted to chide her for moving from her bed when he'd specifically told her to rest, but he recognized that look in her eyes. Judging by the papers in her arms, this was not a social visit. She had a mission.
"Let her in," said Shin, then noticed the person beside her, Hiroaki. "And him. They're okay."
The guard who had detained her sent him a skeptical look but listened to Shin's orders. Kanae's eyes barely skirted across Shin and he felt his own heart flutter at the attention before she was stalking past him. He couldn't help a grin despite the seemingly cold reception. That was Kanae for you.
No one else has noticed her arrival. She didn't care, elbowing stomachs and shoving her way through until she was at the very front. Shin and Hiroaki followed her path, keen to see what she had in store for them.
He just caught the end of Lory mentioning that Kuon was the only one that could walk through the miasma again when Kanae slammed a handful of papers in the middle of the table. For the second time that meeting, the room went suddenly quiet, everyone's attention on the person who had made such a loud noise.
Kanae inhaled slowly through her nostrils, sharp eyes piercing through all their blather like the beautiful goddess she was before snapping at them in her deep sharp voice.
"You're wrong, I can also walk through the miasma and I know a way to get rid of it."
Many of you may be wondering what took so long to post this chapter. Let me explain.
NO! There is too much so let me summarize;
Works sucks, I might quit and find a new job. 11,000 words were harmed/thrown out in the making of this chapter. Grief is a complicated thing to write. I'm tired.
That's about it. Hope you all continue to be well and wonderful. And a big thank you for those that didn't throw this away in disgust and annoyance for either the long wait between chapters or the extra spoonfuls of angsty sadness. Ya'll are great.
-Blushweaver
With the knowledge that a semi-violent mob might come after me for an even delay 1 day on this chapter, I have dropped all to proofread this and get it back to Blushy ASAP.
Hope you are all well.
-Imouto