Chapter V

Morning Surprises

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Morning breeze whispered through the leaves of the sacred woods, and dappled sunlight danced on the white stone grave of Goau. It had been a place of quiet contemplation for Van these past years, but though he stood at the grave with his eyes closed, Van was anything but calm.

It had been a week since the Day of Planting, and still the rumors had not died down. Leal had staunched some with reverse rumors from his agents, but Fanelia was a small country, and any news was big news.

All his precautions—taking Hitomi through Fanelia on back streets, asking Merle to dress her in the common fashion, revealing her identity only to intimate staff—he had undone it all within three seconds of unthinking. Now everyone in Fanelia was discussing Hitomi's past; each conjuring and telling of events during the Gaea War more distorted than the last. Most hadn't seen her when he brought back the energist from the rite of dragonslaying ten years ago, or even know of her existence beyond the circulating stories. Some probably couldn't recognize her even if they passed her on the streets. But that didn't stop Fanelia from weaving wilder and wilder speculations on Hitomi's return, and a couple of the stories were uncomfortably close to the truth.

Today, however, the recent rumor said Hitomi was Van's new lover, and his coat was to cover up their tumble in the woods. Van had turned color when the intelligence clerk gave his morning report. It wasn't the poor fellow's fault. The new clerk probably had been forced into being the scapegoat for this unfavorable delivery, with his shuffling feet and hobbled speech. But Van felt like strangling someone, and he had held his anger and his hands until he could escape out of the castle.

What a way to esteem and protect a guest of Fanelia. His people owed her—he owed her—welcome and obligation, but instead he had prompted dark stories on her honor. And what was worse, her attraction as seeress and prophetess alone would rouse intrigue in other countries, and now he had compounded the problem by putting himself in it. It was entirely possible that Zaibach loyalists or his other enemies, previously with no interest in Hitomi, might take these rumors into consideration and shift their designs onto her. Leal hadn't said anything to him except to suggest strategies to control the situation, but Van knew Leal was disappointed, just like how Balgus would feel ashamed for him.

He was a fool. Hitomi was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. It would be better for her if he left her alone.

On top of this, just before dawn another messenger from Kuon's captain of intelligence had returned out of Basram, bearing a red card and troubling news. The prophet there was gathering more attention and public approval. His followers and other dissonant voices have been demanding resignation from Basram's president, for the stale development of the country and its declining state since the Gaea War. Other countries have started to take an interest in this prophet Critias, and his messages now spread like a tide out of Basram, slow but inexorable. He spoke of the destruction of Gaea and conspiracy in high places, and the coming of absolution. Though Basram had officially announced him as a fake, certain things matched when one dug a little deeper. It was said Critias was a bent old man, but his words possessed power over both hot-blooded and cynical men, and could incite order into uproar. The Philosophical Society in Egzardia and the minor houses of Cesario were already drawn into its wake. It wouldn't be long now, to have rumors of a different sort in Fanelia—rumors of destruction and redemption, rumors with dark tidings and deeper wounds.

In the morning meeting, the master recordkeeper had reported on promising starts for his new development projects: public education and irrigation, new roads and water canals. But they would take years to mature, and the glimmer of hope couldn't dispel Van's grim thoughts on the coming tide. There was the heaviness of war in the air. Basram had sent messengers ahead to request an audience with their chief diplomat. Cim was supposed to arrive this week, and Van had a sensation of foreboding.

He understood now why his brother had hoped against all hope, and turned his back on Fanelia to join Dornkirk's farfetched dream. War brought out the best and the worst in men. Nothing could summarize the ruthless destruction of the Gaea War better than Basram's energist bomb, and although it curtailed Zaibach's large armies and led to the triumph of the Alliance, its moral and political implications still threatened to topple the society and men that had created it.

But though he understood Folken's reasons, it was still impossible for Van to agree. Who had the right to decide that the promise of a better future was sufficient to tear down their past and present? His brother's actions had thrown Fanelia into flames and brought war upon Gaea. After the ruin of Fanelia castle, Van had chased after Dilandau and Folken in his desire for revenge and punishment, and had defeated Zaibach's armies for the peace of Gaea. He had willingly accepted bloodshed as duty. But Van remembered each soldier in the path. On certain nights he would dream of an unquenchable fire, the faces of death amid the flames and ashes. And last would come Folken, his wings sometimes white and sometimes black, but always with his back turned, his face in the darkness. Van would reach out to grasp his brother's shoulders, but his hands would never touch him, as if Folken was of smoke and mists.

Peace shouldn't justify war, not at such a price. But even if he threw all these considerations away, was there a clear limit on the price of peace? If the war was to defend Fanelia, if it was to prevent a greater cost, if it was for something he couldn't possibly compromise—could he say that sixty thousand lives was a fair trade for accomplishing his aims? Could he do it if it was six thousand instead?

Still mired in his tumultuous thoughts, Van noticed quick footsteps behind him. Lately he felt an unreasonable dread whenever a messenger arrived in haste, no matter if it was a red card or a simple request from Leal. Maybe he was just tired. In addition to the usual demands of spring, a time to lay plans for the rest of the year, this week was full of long meetings and petitions, each stacked behind another. There had been an especially wearying case on inheritance, and at one point in the screaming match he was tempted to put the wife and the dead merchant's lover and their wailing children out of his hall until they can speak in coherent, civil sentences.

"Van-sama!" One of his groomsmen ran up the path. He paused and struggled for breath, "You were really hard…hard to find. I ran everywhere and of course the graves would be the last place I'd look—"

"Bos."

"S-sorry! It's Hitomi-sama… I wouldn't let her see Melidoul but she came in anyway and you know how Melidoul is—"

Van ran toward the castle. Melidoul was a great horse, if he was feeling amiable. Otherwise, he was temperamental, and sometimes sullen if the day was too damp from the rain, or if he disapproved of the new batch of oats. He had been withdrawn and irritable this whole week, a suspicion for illness or injury. Today he would be even more sensitive to upsets. The doctor was called in this morning, and Melidoul disliked touches from strangers. From what Van had heard of the Mystic Moon from Hitomi, today was definitely not a good time for a city girl to pet Melidoul. If anything should happen to her— If he couldn't even—

He rushed into the open stable doors past Umara the groomsman, and stopped. Hitomi was inside Melidoul's stall, with only her blonde head visible. She seemed to rest her head next to the horse, and talked to him in an undertone as she touched his neck and muzzle. Melidoul's large dark eyes had a pleasant expression. Almost of enjoyment, if that was possible.

Bos burst in. "Van-sama—" He tried to say something else, but only huffs came out.

Hitomi turned around and smiled, "Oh good, Van, you're here. You can help me engage his attention."

Van walked toward the stall but looked at her for an answer.

"I want to examine him," she said.

"But Hitomi-sama, like I've just said. The doctor saw him this morning already and said he needs to rest for a week. He said there's nothing to be done but rest." Bos had a polite tone, but his expression plainly said his doubts.

She tucked a stray lock of hair behind an ear. "I guess you can call it professional interest."

"Professional interest?" Van echoed.

"I'm a veterinarian—a doctor for animals." Hitomi had a look he couldn't quite place. It was inward and distant, as if she thought upon a memory.

As Van let himself in the stall, Melidoul moved up, nuzzling his outstretched hand. Hitomi was wearing pink running shorts and a light navy jacket she had rolled up to bare her arms. Van swallowed, then glanced back at the horse. Maybe that was why Melidoul liked her. He'd do anything for females.

Van watched while Hitomi moved around Melidoul. She was obviously used to being around sick, frightened animals. He had overreacted when Bos ran up the path out of breath and delivered not even half of the scrambled message. His first thought had been fri—no, worry. Anyone would be worried for his guest at the circumstances. But he should have remembered that Bos was prone to exaggeration. Or at least remembered not to run. At least, she hadn't seemed to notice.

Hitomi had looked at Melidoul in a circle and patted him from head to tail. She now came up to his head, and moved a hand as if to strike his eye. Van felt his heart skip a beat, but Melidoul merely blinked. She then gently touched both eyelids, and coaxed the horse to open his mouth while she looked inside and pulled his tongue. Seemingly satisfied, she moved to the side and poked him in a series a few finger widths apart along his spine, and rubbed along his flank, pressing harder each time.

He never quite imagined her other life like this. Well, truth be told, his thoughts never got farther than her family life and sometimes a shadow of her lover—who always resembled a certain man, for some reason. Hitomi had a different fate on the Mystic Moon with her parents and younger brother. She had spoken of her family before, and underneath the veiled annoyance was trust and dependence. Van wondered how long she would stay this time before she decided to leave. He knew he would never be able to ask. Besides, it was better not to know.

"Van, would you keep him calm? He won't like this next part." She kneeled beside Melidoul's front legs, started to feel, then looked up at him standing there awkwardly. "You could talk to him."

Feeling a little ridiculous, he found himself reciting a story about a warrior who cared for his people and journeyed to make their lives better, and became king of Fanelia after slaying the dragon that plagued towns and countryside. The storybook was Folken's present for his fifth birthday, a few months before his brother left for the rite of dragonslaying.

Halfway through the story, Melidoul gave a start and stamped around in agitation. Van reached out for her as he hastily jumped back, but Hitomi already had stepped aside.

She came up next to Van to stroke Melidoul on the nose. "It's all right. We're almost done. And then you will feel better, hmm?" Her voice was mellow and her gaze intimate. Van was an intruder tumbling into a secret, or perhaps the heavy-booted wayfarer stumbling into the green peace of a nymph grove.

After Melidoul had calmed and nudged her in the chest in apology, Hitomi asked Bos for his reins and halter. Bos was quick to comply. Hitomi fitted them over Melidoul's head, then opened the stall door and slowly led him into the small courtyard. She walked him around in a spiraling circle, gradually stepping into tighter turns. It was slight, but Melidoul was clearly limping and wanted to avoid walking on his left front leg.

Back in the stall, she stared at Melidoul's foot as she mumbled something about support bandages and diagnostic equipment, then suddenly turned to Bos and Van. "I need some sturdy cloth, in long strips. And do you have ice?"

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As Van headed back to the stable with a block of ice, he wondered briefly why he was running around the castle like an errand boy. Hitomi's look had reminded him of Housemother Sara's expression whenever she asked his permission to tailor new shirts for his already full closet—there wasn't any other answer but acceptance. But he could have called Umara over or delegated the task to a guard or kitchen maid. And what was more embarrassing, he had told a child's story—one not mentioned to another soul since he was five—to his horse in front of Bos. His horse! Now there was new fuel for rumors. They would say he was insane, or in love, and he couldn't decide which was worse.

A junior clerk under Belian caught him in the corridors. "Van-sama, the master recordkeeper and the chief vassals request your presence in the audience chamber. Basram has arrived."

Van nodded and placed the wooden bowl into his hands. "Please deliver this to the stable for me." He lingered in the hall as the bewildered clerk bowed and walked off in clipped steps. He had given the bowl away, but its weight still remained.

They had lost contact years ago. He had reasoned to himself that she must have changed, and had spoken it aloud to assure its certainty. Though he had expected it, though he had steeled himself to expect it, to see the truth before him was another matter. It was a life separate from his fate, something he would never touch. But there must be a reason for her to be here, in the past she had long abandoned.

Yet another question he'd never ask. No, it was better to think on concrete things. Van held his sword and turned toward the inner courtyard.

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Thanks for reading ch5. And sorry it's been so late in coming. I've told a few readers that I was going to post this three weeks ago (!), and obviously I lied. I'm a big jerk and I'm horrible at deadlines and there's nothing worse than failed anticipation. So very sorry. But it's a Van ch, and aren't we happy for Van chs? (Ah, yes, there is still the issue of a kissing Van ch, but there is no light without darkness, hmm?)

I do have a draft of ch6 and Chocolatelova's lovely comments, but it's the start of the main story arc aside from the romance, so we'll see how long revision takes.

Your enjoyment of DS keeps me excited about this project. As uptight and obsessive I sound, I do want to stress that I'm accessible and not scary (at least, I hope...). I respond to comments and reviews, but also please feel free to come by my blog to talk!

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Favorite story #4

Princess of La Vallex
By aurora-sakura

I loved how this Hitomi is very powerful and independent. She comes to Gaea for her own purposes, not for any sacrifices she makes for Van, although of course they end up together (as if there's any other possibilities). The new character Josceline is unforgettable, and Celena is like a breath of fresh air. Van is a bit less assertive, but we'll forgive him for being in love.

This and its unfinished sequel, The Usurper's Throne, are rated M for sexual suggestions and themes. The first story is more borderline, but definitely don't read the sequel if you're a kiddie.

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Until next time.

sharlee/jomiel
11/2006