Aouthors note
right so one ofmy close friends profread this for me and he is a actual writer so he chaged up some of the dialouge and such to see how it works and im going to upload that version here so that you can decide if you like it
Among the Tear-soaked Flowers
Prologue
The rain poured down from the heavens on a cold dreary day creating a tepid fog that broiled in the green below. Some pious people would say that their chosen god was crying. Be this the Christian god? A Shinto deity? or some other celestial being deigned worthy of devotion? For what miracles could be harboured in a single drop of rain.
In the middle of a small forest clearing lay a huddled form. At first glance it appeared to be a living creature formed of flesh and bone. It stirred weakly in the forest undergrowth to the sound of a young Asian couple touring the forest on their honeymoon. He seemed the princely sort, handsome and sharp featured while his wife to be appeared ever the delicate flower. Her gentle smile befit a much younger woman than twenty and three years. The prince regailed her with affections, compliments and light hearted humour but the stirring of life in the undergrowth drew her attention long enough for him to take note.
“What is it, my dear?”’
She paused, unsure of herself, turning her parasol and turning her heard to peer closer.
‘’It is-“
The rustle of leaves as the weak form attempted to right itself instilled her with wonder, finding herself drawn toward it before she could even think to question her actions.
“Hold!’’ Her prince claimed cautiously. His warning falling on deaf ears.
Entering the clearing the princess dropped her parasol in a panic rushing to what she was now certain was the small frame of a young child. The princess pushed hair from the young child’s face. A myriad of beaded water droplets coursed from her hair onto a small round face. The crunch of leaves and the ring of sword drawn from it’s scabbard alerted her to former company’s presence.
“What is it?”
Her prince’s face belied an obvious dislike for this disturbance of his course in courtship. A small collection of fingers brushed her cheek, drawing her attention back to the youth in her arms.
‘’A boy.” She said, looking down to see their eyes now open. A mottherly impulse called her to brush the rain from their cheek in turn.
“A young boy.” She repeated.
“A boy?” The prince asked beguiled, stowing his blade in a gruff fashion that caught the youth’s attention.
Whatever had brought the youth there, he was not a friend to the sight of swords ripping away from the princess’ tender grip and poised himself on all fours like a wolf sneering for the pounce.
‘A wild one.” The prince spat curtly, looking into the eyes of the boy with a measure of contempt.
Despite the snarls of the young child, the princess reached out. Her presence alone a drain on the tension.
“He is frightened.”
‘”Lady Watanabe, let the urchins of the forest to their own. Your father made it clear we were to return no later than an hour…”
His thumb brushed suggestively over the hilt of his blade as he eyed the boy.
“And I’m afraid that hour draws to a close.”2
Her mind did not take in the words of her princely partner. Shifting in her silks she moved to embrace the aggressive youth – flinching at first only to fall silent in the comfort of her arms.
“What are you doing?” The prince asked, more demand than question.
“How did you come to be here, little one?”
“Princess.”
“Did the mushrooms draw you here? They are quite a delicacy, I know.”
“Princess!”
“Katsu here is not quite the fan of-“
“Lady Watanabe!”
Her face turned sharp, her eyes drawn like daggers to her husband-to-be. The rain continued to fall, but it would not subside or wash away the line drawn between them. Prince Katsu would wait a moment longer but his temper and frustration played out and he turned to walk away.
Watanabe watched him go, a slight pain in her chest but also a sense of relief for having followed her heart in the matter.
“What a small thing…” She said with a hint of a laugh betrayed in her voice, her hand brushing away droplets through his dark red strands of hair.
The rain fell a little heavier. A small comfort. A strange peace brokered.
The boy stirred in her arms at the sound of men rushing through the forest. Her father’s hunting party had not tarried far behind. She held him fast as he croaked and whimpered in fear, struggling to run. When the small band drew up short of entering the clearing, he knew it was too late to run and just went rigid, shaking as his eyes played over the highly decorative armour of an emperor and his guard. Their hands on hilts, the emperor dressed in purple tinted sheets of metal and white garb dropped from his proud horse a servant rushing to take his spear and held his hand to the guard in a placative gesture. His face was drawn like aged paper wisped with grey hair and whiskers cut finely to highlight his features. He moved towards his daughter with purpose laying a hand to her shoulder. A wordless request as they exchanged glances for her to show him the boy.
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Those eyes like an eagle passed from his daughter to her trembling young charge.
“A boy?”
“I found him lying here, father. Not a soul but him. An orphan of the war, I think…”
“The forest brings us strange gifts, daughter.” His countenance hard to read.
“That such a frail thing would live in such trying times…” She smiled despite herself, the boy’s simple fears drawing upon her motherly instincts to see them cast away.
“You see, my lord? The foreigners have sunk so low as to use their offspring to bewitch our women’s tender hearts. Let me strike a blow and send a message to these-“
Prince Katsu fell silent as Lord Watanabe raised his hand again. A solemn silence descending as his subjects waited on his command. His eyes closed then opened again only to rest on the shivering child.
“A gift!” He exclaimed raucously.
“Lord Watanabe?” Katsu gasped.
“A fine gift for my house! My concubines betray me only a single daughter but that same daughter now gifts me a son!”
The entire company was struck dumb by their lord’s words. Only Katsu was able to manage a response.
“My lord! He is a castaway! A wretch! A-“
His words turned to sand as Lord Watanabe turned stone-faced upon his daughter’s betrothed. The prince looked about as though sanity had lost it’s grip but retreated into silent obedience with a formal bow of apology, stepping back to fall in line with Watanabe’s guard.
“A son.” He repeated, his touch upon his daughter’s shoulder now a loving gesture.
“Well done, Yoko.” A whisper of gratitude for only her ears.
“Bring him to my house!” He said rising and turning to his vassels, “Let it be known that the child of the forest…”
He paused and looked upon the child, having not considered a namesake.
“…Shinrin Kaitaku shall inherit the seat of Watanabe!”
His men bowed their heads, saluting with hands thumped to their chest in obedience. Katsu last of all as his expression grew dark and muttered curses under his breath. Even his daughter was surprised by her father’s decision holding the boy with wide eyes of surprise. The emperor’s guard moved to take the child from her only to be met by a sudden and violent reaction as the boy swiped and howled at them in wild panic.
“Father, let me take him.” Yoko requested, attempting to calm the child.
Watanabe inclined his head in agreement then moved to remount his horse. His advisor, Kentabe, helped him only to whisper
“Was that wise, my lord?” as he handed him the reins.
Hanso Watanabe did not immediately answer, making sure the entire company was ready and moving in fine order through the forest before quietly speaking to his trusted confidant some feet ahead of the party.
“His name is Eoin. He is McClosky’s child.”
Kentabe was practiced enough not to react or show surprise being a high member of the court but Watanabe knew that the slight unsettlement of his friend’s eyebrow was enough a tell to be on the level of complete surprise. A momentary pause and Kentabe eluded to ask;
“How can you be certain?”
Watanabe righted himself in his saddle with a smirk.
“Besides the red hair and foreign devil skin? He has his father’s eyes.” Watanabe turned back to glimpse at Katsu’s bitter expression drifting all about the forest to vent his frustration.
“He will not stand for this.” Kentabe stated, reading his friend’s mind.
“He lacks his father’s spine and McClosky severed that when he put vengeance before honour.”
The reference to a memory incurred a melancholic pause.
“He was a good man. He and his wife did not deserve that fate.” Kentabe spoke in reverence.
Watanabe was perturbed enough inside to look at his palm thoughtfully, flexing the fingers of his gauntlet. He recalled McClosky’s remaining moments. A foreign devil, the most passionate smith he had ever known prostrated before his mercy.
“Do not spare the rod, my Lord…” He muttered to himself, the words of a dead man resounding on his lips.
“What?”
Watanabe regained his composure. The blue eyes transfixed in his mind returned to phantom memory.
“The boy will be strong.”
Kentabe looked back to see the child. He still shivering in Yoko’s silken sleeves but the rain could not hide the intensity in those brown eyes. His defiant mother’s eyes.
“Yes. Yes, he will.” Kentabe said in agreement, though his words elude to something else entirely,
They looked to one another, their serious countenance breaking into smiles.
The rain continued to fall. It would not wash away the past. It held to them, outlining them as grey figures in the mist escaping the night’s encroaching dark.
quick change
what may work in the story i will use but if this is deemd to be too different i wont use it