"Our histories go back well over a thousand years and even the earliest scrolls speak of how we have always defended the sky-castle against attackers," the guide declared proudly. "There used to be eight other armies who were called there every night, perhaps more long ago, but most have died out or accepted defeat, and now only the fire kingdom remains to challenge us. We will prevail, however! The sky-castle belongs to the night; we of Yama, who revere the wolf and the moon's pure light, are its rightful guardians."
Their guide paused expectantly and Kurogane mustered up a decently appreciative noise and a nod. The young man was a reedy, scholarly sort and passionately enthusiastic about history and his own country, which Kurogane had no real problem with. It was far easier to put up with than the mage's teasing, for a certainty. It even reminded him somewhat of the kid, though he refused admit to himself that it was something that made him put up better with the guide's nearly non-stop chatter.
He would go so far as to acknowledge that the kid and princess were good-hearted and sturdy in spirit, showing promise of someday becoming worthy adults and in the meantime, proving themselves agreeable enough companions. Even the bun had her moments, but it would be a long road to walk to get to the point where Kurogane would admit that he missed them. The traitorous thoughts that kept wandering off in search of his three missing companions were brushed away like noisome insects, and he told himself that he was only concerned about reuniting with them all so that he could continue on this journey in the hopes that it would lead him home.
For now, however, he was stuck in this country, and did his best to pay attention to their guide as they continued their tour of the capital city.
There was plenty to keep himself occupied if he happened to tune out during a particularly long-winded speech, too. The tour of the great castle had been somewhat boring, what with Kurogane too used to finery from having grown up at the court of the Empress herself to be impressed by evidence of wealth, but he'd been keen after every detail that would help him map the place out in his head. Now as they walked through the town surrounding the castle he found himself distracted on a more personal level.
They walked by residential areas with little more than a passing mention of any prominent families that resided there, but Kurogane sometimes found things to capture his interest. He never slowed his steps nor even let his gaze linger, but the sight of a young boy running up to a woman with long black hair sometimes stayed with him even as he moved his gaze to other things. Bustling markets often lured him out of the straight line too, with the cheerful calls of vendors and bright colors.
And then there were the admirers.
Fai gathered them as he walked like candles drew moths on a dark night. His fair hair was a dead giveaway that he wasn't a local and everyone old enough to lace up their own tunics knew on sight that he was something special. Yasha-ou had touched on the subject lightly during their initial introduction but their guide was the one who explained the situation to Kurogane in more detail.
"We'd thought it possible that they'd all died out, you see, or forgotten us. It's been decades since the last one of his kind descended from the castle, and it's doubly exciting because he's the youngest we've ever had the privilege of receiving by far," the young man had explained earlier, apparently feeling that some sort of apology was necessary for the excessive commotion the mage had been causing. "The stories only tell of gods arriving in search of a quiet place to die. We've always held the area of the castle where they arrive even when there were more armies vying for territory above, so Yama has always claimed the honor of providing that last resting place. Sometimes it would be many years yet before they passed away but they were always old, always tired or lost or broken somehow."
Kurogane had stopped and stared at this, flummoxed by the idea that Fai was a god here. God of lies, he could maybe see. The role of a mischievous fox spirit teasing honest men into traps was also fitting. But the citizens of Yama acted more like Fai's visit was a portent of a hundred years of peace and prosperity. Their guide had seemed to think that the ninja's surprise was more at the mention of age and endings, for he smiled sympathetically and explained further.
"Have you not seen it yourself yet?" the young man asked, gently curious. "Even the gods must die, and sometimes they honor us by involving us in their last days. It is a test, to see how we treat the mighty when they are about to fall into shadow. I must admit I'm as excited as anyone else to know why he is come so early yet in his life."
Kurogane had turned the man's hopeful hints aside by giving the same vague explanation that he'd given the king the day before; they were only here temporarily and would move on once they'd found their missing companions. This news certainly damped joy but did not extinguish it completely; the guide had and still exuded gratitude and excitement that Fai was here at all, be it only for a day or week or what.
Gossip traveled faster than they could on foot, especially once they ventured into the busier market streets. Soon enough there was a crowd gathered around them, with excited murmurs building up ahead and a trail behind them of people happily retelling their recent adventure to anyone who would listen. Their slow progress through the city was not due to the crowd directly, though. Everyone stayed a respectful distance away and made sure never to block the visitors' direct path forward. Rather it was that Fai seemed to understand the part he was to play, and kept slowing or stilling his measured steps to accept the attention he was being lavished with.
Gifts, too. At first they only gathered attention, but as word spread that a young god was come and was now touring the city, offerings were prepared and presented. Fai handed out gentle smiles and appreciative nods, keeping himself wrapped up in an aura of calm poise unlike his usual flippant friendliness, and then handed everything over to Kurogane to carry. The ninja had unthinkingly taken the first token without question or protest but had shot the mage a narrow-eyed look promising violence once he'd realized that he'd been assigned the role of pack mule. He'd been tempted to make it clear that the blond could and ought to carry the boxes and bottles himself but hadn't been quite sure what the repercussions might be of offering such insolence to a deity.
Getting stoned by an angry mob was not how he was going to farewell this life.
So far he had been accorded a fair bit of respect himself, merely because he appeared the chosen companion of this golden-haired otherworlder. It rankled not a little bit that his status depended on his connection to Fai and not his own merits, but he wasn't so stupid as to kick such a useful situation away out of nothing more than pride. He was proud, but he was also smart. He could deal with this subordinate role for now if it helped them get through this part of their long journey more easily, and he placated himself by promising to take it out of the mage's hide later, when they were all together again and able to communicate.
He managed to juggle the bottles of wine and several little boxes without any trouble. He even added to his burdens unthinkingly. Kurogane spied a familiar title carved into a thin wooden box at a storyteller's stall and forgot himself so far as to let his interest show, and soon enough the latest set of Maganyan chapters was his with promises from the vendor to send future issues fresh from the copyists' hands as soon as the ink was dry. Kurogane gave his thanks, repressed any show of eagerness after the stories and resolutely kept his gaze away from Fai's face because he just knew that whatever expression it was wearing would only serve to irritate him.
When two rolls of fine cloth and a decorative scroll were added to the pile he put his foot down and protested with a glare and undervoiced growl that he wasn't here to serve as porter. Fai only smiled at him, little crinkles by his eyes making it a silent laugh under a concealing fringe of pale gold hair, but their guide helpfully suggested having the gifts delivered to their rooms. Couriers materialized out of the crowd to volunteer their services and soon Kurogane's arms were empty again, everything on their way to the castle save for a bouquet of wildflowers that a little girl had run up with.
This Fai had kept in his own hands after kneeling to receive it from a dimpled fist, a haphazard cluster of blue and yellow and mustard green looking fresh-picked from the roadside, and Kurogane snorted at him for choosing to carry the one gift that had hardly any weight to it.
Author's Notes: A little call-back to Freckle Face of Celes. May she rest in peace. FYI, long ago Yama actually won the sky-castle and the then-king wished for peace for his embattled kingdom. He didn't include the sky-castle in his wish, however, so he had to commit his country to defending it for as long as that peace was to last. Other countries also have warp-fields like Yama and Shura do, but they have fallen or given up the sky-castle and turned the warp-fields into salted, barren wastelands to be shunned as cursed instead. Now only Shura gathers its army nightly to fight Yama for the sky-castle. There is a land of mages where the old warp-field is said to be a gateway to one of the next worlds; if one tires of this life but does not want to wait for death, they can go there to haste their way. They don't realize it's merely a warp-field to the sky-castle and most times when they do, they simply accept it for what it is and spend their last days in Yama, unburdened of their former lives and surrounded by caring, attentive strangers.
