Chapter Seventy-Seven
They left the following morning.
Syaoran gathered up what little he'd collected in a backpack and waited for Seishirou to finish caring for Fuuma. The dying man didn't stir.
"How much longer do you think we'll be traveling?" Syaoran asked as his teacher drew the feather back inside his body.
"I don't have an exact timeline. Another month maybe. Less, if we keep traveling at the rate we have been." His voice was subdued. Whether that was due to his brother's condition or Seishirou's exhaustion after the previous night, Syaoran couldn't say.
Syaoran looked down at his bandaged hand, flexing his fingers. The movement pulled painfully at his skin. It must've been a severe burn, to still be healing, he thought. But nothing worse than what I've already endured.
"Ready to go?" Seishirou asked.
"I'm ready."
The magic in the man's eye stirred, and they were drawn up into the dimensional sea.
Syaoran tried not to think about how it had felt to thrust his sword through the ringmaster's heart, but it did cross his mind. He didn't feel guilty, exactly. The ringmaster had wronged him horrendously, risked his life for the amusement of others. He'd been doing so to countless people for far too long. But somehow, the lack of regret he felt for killing the man worried Syaoran more than the actual act.
Is it becoming so easy to hurt others that I'm unable to empathize with them anymore? he wondered at one point, as he crawled through a broken window. There was a feather in this world, apparently in possession of the local gang. They were in and out in less than half an hour, without having killed anyone.
They moved onto the next world that night, not wanting their theft to catch up to them.
Syaoran also tried not to think of the people who had suffered and died because of him. But the list was growing longer: the people who'd perished in the Ephemeral Apartments because of Seishirou's intervention; Souma, who'd bled out when he'd bitten her; Miss Adele, who'd died because his presence had drawn Fei Wang Reed's soldiers to Cirrus; and now the ringmaster, killed by his own hand. How long will it be until I lose someone I care about? he wondered, in those rare moments where he allowed himself to think about it.
The next world they landed in was superficially similar to Infinity, but not as rife with crime. There, they acquired a fifth feather.
Three worlds went by where they found no feathers. The first was a world that seemed to be stuck in Medieval times. The second was an ice-locked world without any people or signs of civilization. The third was a world where everything was run by magic. They spent almost two weeks there, to ascertain that none of the major magical presences were Sakura's feathers, but in the end, there was nothing of interest.
Seishirou never mentioned the nightmarish circus, but Syaoran sensed a fundamental change in their relationship. At first, he assumed the careful distance was due to the man's assumption that he didn't want to talk about it. But, as their conversations grew more stifled, Syaoran began to wonder if there wasn't something else bothering his teacher.
Maybe I should ask, he thought as they packed their bags. He'd purchased a couple books, having recognized the language of the magical country, and he now had a few more possessions to take care of. His most important possession still sat in his pocket, a comforting weight at his hip.
He was about to ask Seishirou if something was wrong when his teacher spoke up. "You've been practicing shielding your mind ever since I taught you how, yes?"
Surprised by the question, Syaoran answered honestly. "Every day."
"And it's getting easier?"
He nodded.
"Good."
He waited for Seishirou to say something more. When the dark-haired man remained silent, he returned his attention to his bag.
The next world they landed in did have a feather.
When they first fell into the world, Syaoran assumed it was some sort of magic that turned the sky such a brilliant sapphire. The sun itself appeared as a sapphire disk in the sky, painting the clouds baby-blue. The hue was such that all Syaoran could do was stare, trying to figure out how such a celestial occurrence could come to be. Until the blue orb fell below the horizon, he was unable to look away.
"That was amazing," he breathed, when the blue star finally disappeared. He knew it was unwise to stare at the sun, as evidenced by the afterimages dotting his retinas, but he'd never seen such a beautiful sight in any of the worlds he'd visited.
Seishirou had smiled softly. "There are a great many wonders for those who travel far enough. This may be one of them."
Syaoran blinked, still half-blind. "Is there a feather in this world?" he asked. That had always been one of the first topics that had come up during his travels, even when he'd been with the others. The others . . . he thought, fighting off a pang of yearning. They probably hate me even more since Cirrus.
"There's a great power emanating from the east, but it's far away from here."
An unfamiliar voice called out from behind. "You must be talking about the Mist."
They both looked up at the speaker. A girl of about fifteen, with golden hair tied back in twin braids, watched them warily from the top of the hill. Dozens of blue and white flowers shifted under her feet, stirred by the breeze. On some of the blossoms hung tiny, unripe berries.
"Hello, there," Seishirou said, waving.
The girl leapt down from where she stood. The ground had been altered all around them—terraced, for agriculture, like in some of the countries the Other had visited with Fujitaka-san. But if these dainty flowers qualified as part of a farm, Syaoran could only imagine the tiny population of the area. "Who might you be?"
"We're travelers," Syaoran said. "We come from far beyond this country."
The girl blinked. "Well, that explains why y'all don't know of the Mist."
The Mist? Syaoran waited for her to explain, but she just frowned and looked around uneasily. "Do y'all make a habit of hanging out on the edge of berry fields, or something?"
"Actually, no," Seishirou said. "We were looking for an Inn, but we lost our way, so we decided this was as good a place to camp as any. We're sorry if we disturbed you."
Conflict raged in the young girl's eyes, and Syaoran heard, for the first time, the manipulative edge to Seishirou's voice. He's trying to get sympathy. Like he expects her to just take in three total strangers.
"Well . . . Y'all might as well c'mon in. My ma's making dinner right now. I'm sure we'll have enough left over."
"That's very kind of you," Seishirou said.
"What are you doing?" Syaoran hissed, keeping his voice low so the girl couldn't hear.
"Finding a place for us to sleep."
"You can't just impose on their household like this, after . . . after what happened to Miss Adele."
"Sure we can." Seishirou slung Fuuma over his shoulder and started up the stepped hill. Syaoran glanced back at the horizon. The sky was still blue, but it was the deep, natural blue brought on by dusk. He followed Seishirou.
"We've got the farmhouse here," the girl said. "It's been a while since we've had visitors. Come on in."
They went inside. The house was plain, but attractive in its simplicity. A rocking chair made its home in the corner of the entryway, a lacy pillow sitting on top of the seat. Family photos, framed in squares of unmarked wood, adorned the wall. Two pairs of shoes and a pair of boots were pushed up against the wooden trim.
"Ma, we've got visitors!" the girl yelled into the next room. From the smells issuing forth from the arch, Syaoran guessed that was the kitchen.
"Visitors?" a soft voice repeated. A woman entered through the arch. Her hair was mostly gold, like the girl's, but with a few strands of grey mixed in. "Oh, well come right in. Dinner's almost ready, and it's been a long time since Sadie here has had any boys come to see her."
Syaoran felt his face turn red. "Oh, I'm not—"
Seishirou slapped him on the back. "Go with it, Little Wolf," he whispered.
"They're travelers," the girl—Sadie—said, her hands coiling into fists. "It's their first day in Sapphirine."
Sapphirine, he thought. What a fitting name for a world with a sapphire sunset.
"Sadie, set them up a place at the table. I don't care how far they've traveled, they've never had cooking like mine."
"Okay, ma." Sadie skipped off through the door, while her mother stepped into the entryway.
"You look like you've come a long way," the woman said, eyeing Fuuma's unconscious figure. "Why don't we find you a room?"
And Seishirou, being who he was, just smiled and said, "That would be divine."