"In the cherry blossom's shade
there's no such thing
as a stranger."
― Kobayashi Issa

The royal family kept a place at the dinner table each and every day for the wanderer, complete with silverware, should he arrive to test their hospitality. When finally he did arrive, long after dinner when the stars were speckled across the sky, with his long hair somewhat in disarray and crescents of soil under his nail, they sat in silence and waited him to finish his wine before he spoke.

"Lysha is dead," Jedan said, quite simply, and one of the servants rushed forward to refill his glass. He sipped calmly, apparently ignorant of the calamitous silence which had swallowed the room following this announcement. He set down his glass, and stared for a moment at the burgundy liquid within, his dark eyes clouded with thought. "Seven hours ago."

"I..." Queen Ora's knuckles turned white on the arms of her chair, flicking an uncertain gaze to her husband, who was as though he had been carved from stone or marble; she did not think he was even breathing. "I am sorry for your loss, my lord."

"Thank you." He dabbed gently at his upper lip, obscuring for the moment the expression of sorrow that flickered across his face. "Yes, she was rather, ah, put out about it all, as you can imagine."

The heirs, as they were collectively known, ranging as they did from awkward adolescence to rash new adulthood, knew better than to speak, or to even raise their eyes from the tablecloth that covered the table, obscuring the scarred wooden surface for the eyes of the god. However, even decorum could not stop Cabi from putting a hand to her mouth as though to quell and push back the shock that threatened to swell within her throat; even that knowledge could not prevent the slight twitch in Kurban's arm as he digested this information.

"She still speaks," King Adam said darkly.

"No longer. She has entered the realm of Yla. But it was a long journey from hither to thither." Jedan folded the napkin very delicately with long fingers, matching the lines and edges precisely without looking at it. He was not the sort for jewellery, although a ring made from bone sat at the base of his thumb, the surface deeply worn and scratched. "Lots of time to talk."

Kurban turned his head slightly to look at the god with piercing grey eyes. It was indeed hard to remember that the man was a god, mortal as he appeared as he slouched slightly at the table, his head tilted as though he were listening to faraway strains of music in the distance. Kurban looked as though he were about to say something, but it was Cabi who defied the queen's quelling look and spoke: "There'll be a Selection, then."

The last Selection had belonged to Gsjard, long before Adam's time, when his grandfather had been king. The god's predecessor had specified that no scholar be chosen; knowledge did not and could not belong to the educated alone, so the candidates had been selected from amongst the lower castes, the Fives and the Sevens and all in between. Gsjard had been a Seven, hands worn weary by work. Lysha placed no such strictures upon her successors, except that they be as she had been - young women and girls, as beautiful as she. The stars in the sky, the spires of the city, and the spirit of the hunt belonged to the young and beautiful, she had said.

Adam put his hand to his forehead and nodded, the motion slow and purposeful. "Yes," he said. "Yes. The stars cannot go unattended for too long."

"It is a shame," Queen Ora said. "That our lady will not be present for the greatest hunt of all."

"It is as you say it is," Jedan said mildly, and stood, so quickly that there was a moment's uncertainty before the royal family rose as well. "No, sit, sit. I know my way to the door well enough. Your Highness - the choices shall be rendered forthwith, so that the Selection may begin. Please make the girls as welcome in your home as you have made me."

King Adam inclined his head, but remained standing. "As though it were yourself."

"It will be hard to replace one as invaluable as our dear Lysha," Jedan said. "But we shall do our best."

He bowed at the waist, an entirely incongruous gesture from a man as disheveled as he, his patched coat ragged at the hem. "Thank you, Adam, Ora." And he straightened once more. "Don't forget to lock your doors tonight. It is a cold and dark winter coming - and so few stars to illuminate the night."

As promised, he left the room alone, and left the palace alone, wind howling into the building as the ornate doors were opened and closed. It was not until the heavy door had creaked its protest closed and the boom of the locks sliding back into place had echoed through the cavernous space that King Adam slowly returned to his seat, that Queen Ora's fingers relaxed on her chair, that the heirs felt free to relax their tense spines and exchange uncertain looks - Kurban defiant, Mezar pensive, Cabi melancholy.

"To business, then," King Adam murmured. "To business."

Accepted characters

The Fade:

Buxiu:

Anthe:

Toamn:

Himno:

Gsjard:

Ilargi:

Arvoh:

Jedan:

Yla: