Chapter 27: Progress And Revelations
Sakura
The next several weeks were extremely busy. I found most of my time focused around three things. Training, learning to take care of Little King, and the silkworm project.
I spent most of my morning’s training in combat against Rayce, while Little King slept. When he woke up, around ten in the morning, I was usually finished with a sparing session or two, my morning practice with the knives, and mana training, and I took him to the baths with me. He soaked in the hot, warm water, lazily swimming from one side of the pool to the other, while I washed away that morning’s workout.
It gave him a chance to soak, get some light exercise, and breathe in some of the water and fire mana from the baths. Natural hot springs warmed the baths, keeping them clean and fresh, and infusing them with mana enough to satisfy the little spiky shelled turtle.
About the time he started chirping for food, a sound that was remarkably close to a baby bird’s call, I was studying the spells I had selected the day after the tournament with Gamera.
While the cooks worked on lunch for me, Little King was fed a steady supply of chie and mana infused food pellets that the stable master had provided me the night before. They were color coded, with one side of the pellets being blue, green, white, or various other common mana affinity types, while the other side was brown and infused with pure chie.
I was supposed to watch him and see what food pellets he migrated towards the most. That would eventually tell me what mana the turtle would develop affinities for. As I watched, he ate them all without a care in the world, day in and day out.
It wasn’t until the stable master, Master Ea’dara, showed me what I was doing wrong on the third day, that we saw a shift in his interest. “Normally, what you did is fine. But these King Gamera’s can be a bit oblivious to what they’re eating unless clear choices are offered to them. I should have warned you about that. Try this.”
He separated the pellets into color coded piles. And after a few seconds of sniffing around Little King began eating the blue and red tipped pellets, with the occasional bite at a green or yellow one. “His interests might shift some. Particularly for a King Gamera. But Fire and Water affinities are about what I expected. Though if what I’m seeing here is right, he might develop some wood mana affinities, and maybe even a celestial one as well. If you’re lucky.”
“Why would that be lucky?” I asked, having already thoroughly decided against pursuing celestial companions of my own on the mountains of Uncle Gamera’s shell, given the difficulties that seemed inherent in the type of beast.
“A King Gamera, with this little guy’s temperament.” Ea’dara put his finger close to the snapping turtle’s jaws, and the turtle took a bite towards his fingers. Crunching down on nothing but air, thankfully. Ea’dara seemed to find the near finger losing experience amusing as he did it again, almost ideally. “With a celestial affinity, would be a particularly unique combination.”
When I gave him a questioning look, the man smiled, making his mustache jump almost like a caterpillar. “Fire and Water are already potent combinations. You add a wood and earth affinity to the mix, and you have a very well-rounded partner. Add in celestial mana to that mix? And you have a little guy who can do all sorts of things to support you. Of course, it also means you’d have to split focus. Which would slow down his cultivation growth as it would your own. But those are trade-offs. Everyone had to make those kinds of decisions.”
“Does that mean if I don’t actively seek to improve his celestial affinity, it will go away?”
“More or less young mis. There are ways that training or new experiences or apophonies and breakthroughs can change what affinities a person might have. But likewise, a lack of developing an affinity will see it fade away over time. As he is so young still, I’d keep trying to offer him the complete range. And see what develops. But in a few weeks, if a clear pattern is still visible, then we can switch to a more targeted diet.”
I did as instructed every day. While the cooks prepared lunch for the family, I worked on the three spells I had chosen to master. “At first, you need to choose one of three types of spells. A movement spell, an offensive spell, and a defensive one.” Gamera had said that first day we sat down together. “At your stage, there is really only one movement spell. Dash. It will lay the groundwork for more advanced spells, abilities, and mixed techniques later in your journey.”
“So it’s important to learn now then.”
“Exactly. As for the other types of spells, that will largely depend on your current affinities.”
“I’ve heard that term used a lot. But I don’t actually know what an affinity is.”
Gamera had grumbled. “Your tutors should be flogged in the streets. An affinity is a measure of what type of elemental aligned mana you are most currently adept at using.”
“And what are my affinities?”
Gamera scratched his neck with a long finger-like claw in thought. “After seeing how you fight, and getting to know you better since your fever, I have my suspicions. But there is really only one way to be sure.” He had reached behind him and produced a small, round, clear ball of glass.
“Channel mana directly from your core, into the ball. Then we shall see.” He placed it in front of me, and I took it in both my hands. It took me only a moment to channel enough mana into it to get a reaction. Slowly, the clear internals began to fill with a fog like substance that swirled like disturbed water. After only a few seconds, that fog started to change color.
“Good. Now, hand it to me.” I gave it to the tortoise man, and he lifted it for him to see. He looked at it with one wide-open eye as the colors shifted through the rainbow. “Ah yes. As I suspected. Fire for your kind heart and benevolent leadership. Metal mana for your ambition, and drive towards improving things around you for others and yourself alike. And finally water, for your bright mind and clear thinking.” He had put the ball down and stared at me.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. You embody three of the five traditional elements, though there are many, many more. Most at your age, if they are lucky, embody one or two of the five traditional elements.” He squinted at me as if examining my soul. “As the Kame, and Gamera are your family’s chosen companions and allies, I suspected to find water. And metal makes sense given your drive to work towards improving the lives of those around you. Your ‘little projects’, as your parents call them, have changed many lives for the better. They’ve also wasted a lot of time, but that is the nature of such things. But fire? I had not expected that to grow in you until much later. Compassion, true compassion for others and not just sympathy for thier blight, is a difficult lesson to learn. It means you see their lives, and their way of life, as valuable.”
I thought back to my time in the village and nodded. “Yu brought me to a small village during our travels. I . . . I saw what the people there were like. And saw that they were happy, despite their lack of luxury and lives of toil and work. They were good people who had worked hard for everything they had. And their lives were worth protecting.”
Gamera smiled at me and nodded slowly. “Good. I thought I saw such a change in you. Now. Let us pick your spells.”
In the end I had chosen a metal spell for defense, the text books called ‘Metal Skin’ that hardened my skin and clothes with a thick layer of metal aligned mana, and protected me from harm. It also had the side effect of turning me, my clothes, and everything else it coated, a dark shade of gray.
For my offensive spell, there really wasn’t much of a choice. I had already learned to imbue my knives with a rudimentary version of the spell, and so Gamera showed me the proper method for casting it. When the dummy exploded, and then burst into flames in the central courtyard, I couldn’t help but smile.
“Flame Burst is a powerful spell. Thank you for teaching me, Uncle.”
“It is. And you are welcome. I had suspected I’d need to teach you flame strike first, but it seems you stumbled onto a slightly more advanced version. Flame strike simply sets the target aflame, without the explosion.” He explained, and I nodded. I was pretty sure I could figure out how to remove the exploding aspect of the spell for greater control. It wasn’t that complicated of a spell.
A simple mana construct that wrapped around my fingers, aligning mana as it left my arm with fire. A process Gamera said I wouldn’t need to do if I chose to place the spell into one of my meridians once I reached the immortal realms. But for now, was crucial to all spell casting at this stage. I then took that mana, condensed it, and I could either then imbue it onto a knife, or simply throw it at an enemy.
“Is there a way for me to use mana to throw it at an opponent without having to actually physically toss the mana at them?” I asked, remembering many of the spells and abilities I had seen during the tournament.
Gamera nodded. “Of course. But that requires mixing mana types, or more complicated spell matrixes that complement the spell. You’ll learn those once you master these three.”
The hour of practice with my spells was a pretty unique experience changing by the day. It usually involved me setting things on fire, or having Rayce attempt to break my metal barrier while actively reinforcing it. Or dodging each other’s ranged attacks using Dodge. Which I had learned, was a pure mana or chie ability. Anyone could do it. It simply required reinforcing one’s body in the right places with mana for a quick burst of speed or agility.
Lunch was a family affair. Usually Yu or Ren couldn’t join us, but occasionally both could make it. The rest of the family, save Yu and Ren, usually sat together, which included anyone still in the familial palace. Raif stayed for nearly a month, learning how to care for his new, bitty friend. While Ka’jin stayed for a week or so, learning much the same.
“It’s odd. Crash is so very different from me that I find it difficult to relate.” Ka’jin said one of his two teenage sons had stayed behind and was eating along with us. “Our connection is so much different from my connection with Rosebud.” He raised a hand, and a rose made of light appeared over the table. It danced in the magical lights that lit the dining hall. “She’s a wood and earth spirit. One that has helped me keep my city’s crops growing year round despite my lack of cultivation levels.”
Rosebud danced for a few seconds more, before disappearing, flowing into pure light and into Ka’jin’s hand.
“Did Rosebud just enter your vault?” i asked, before I could think of something else to say.
Ka’jin looked startled for a moment to be addressed by me, but then he smiled and nodded. “Indeed. You’re on the verge of the immortal realms as well, are you not?” I nodded. “Congratulations, dear younger sister. I have been here for some time. And though the vault is typically an immortal realm chie construct, it is one I have learned to master despite my lack of advancement beyond Peak Steel. A vault allows one to hold their spirit, and bonded spirit beast companions inside themselves.”
“Is it weird?” Rayce asked. “Having them in your head?”
Ka’jin chuckled, as did Raif and the other adults at the table. “Yes. I’ve had my vault open for decades at this point, and I am still not used to it. Though Rosebud is a valuable companion, and she is welcome to come and go as she pleases.”
“So, is Crash in there with you?” I asked, interested to know what had become of the destroyer of trees.
Ka’jin’s smile fell away, replaced by an annoyed expression. “No. He refuses to meld at the moment. Says it’s too cramped with Rosebud.”
“That only means you’ll have to advance, nephew,” Raif said between bites of cured pork. “You know the rule of thumb. You need to be a stage higher for spirit beasts. If you’re struggling, my offer still stands. I’d be more than happy to host you for hunts in my land.”
“Yes. Thank you, uncle.” Ka’jin smiled, but I could tell this was an old discussion. “If I were younger, I would be happy to take you up on that offer. As it stands, my body simply can not handle that much activity.”
“You’re going to have to advance somehow, kid.” Raif shook his head. “Do you have a plan?”
Ka’jin was going to respond, but his son interjected. “My father is a good cultivator, even if he hasn’t advanced. Our city and region are low in core opportunities. It’s not fair to judge him so. He spent his youth guiding our people, not on hunts for prestige or personal glory. Our lands and people prosper. Despite his lack of advancement.”
A quiet filled the room, and all attention shifted to the conversation. Raif’s voice was quiet when he responded. “Power is not the only thing that upholds a land. I know that lesson dear grand nephew. However, in a world filled with the dangers like ours, and with a heritage as grand as yours, it is a vice to focus so fully on one’s administrative duties that they neglect their own growth. For a leader must be able to defend themselves and their people. Not just rule them.”
Raif traced a scar on his face, one that ran along his chin and that was only visible because he shifted his head, exposing it for others to see. “An elven blade cuts deep. Do you know what they do to their captives?”
“Thank you, uncle. That is enough.” Ka’jin was clearly tired by the exchange. Emotionally more than physically if his tone was anything to go by. “My sons have all surpassed me in cultivation. Why, Rad’al here, is almost to Gold.”
“Yes. And I applaud you for not neglecting their training, as you have your own. That is a father’s duty. But I ask your son again. Rad’al, grand nephew, do you know what elves do to their captives? What they do when they seize a town, or gods forbid a city?” Ka’jin made to interject, but Raif stopped him with a raised hand. “No nephew. Your son must learn this lesson. It will be vital to his survival. Besides, it is important for a child to know that their parents are human and imperfect. You have made it a point to ensure my own children have learned that lesson many times.”
Raif’s eyes narrowed, and I could tell there was something between them. Some slight or past grievance I was unaware of. The two men loved each other, but to men that were functionally immortal, grudges lasted centuries, not months or years. And every family had their slights, grudges, and disagreements. Or, so I told myself.
Raif waited for a response.
Ka’jin turned to his son and nodded. “Your honored uncle asked you a question, my son. It would be rude to refuse to answer him.”
“I do not know, honored uncle.” Rad’al’s voice was quiet, and dissatisfied with the situation. But there was an edge of curiosity as well.
He’s been shielded from the realities of of the world, I think. People, and elves seem to fit that description, can be cruel. Raif is only trying to prepare him for that reality. Though, what was that about Raif’s own kids?
I decided not to interfere. A lesson was going to be taught, one that was truly needed, I thought.
“They kill all the men over the Steel stage. Children under the age of ten are slaughtered in front of their kin. They’re too bothersome to worry about taking back with them as slaves. Same with anyone who is lame, injured, or malformed.” Raif’s voice was matter of fact, as if he were describing the weather. But Rad’al’s expression matched Ka’jin’s own. Somber and reverent, though with a tinge of horror that didn’t seem to affect the older men.
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
“Those over ten who are healthy, are mind wiped using their insidious slave magic and turned over to their Wood Guard for indoctrination and training. They then use those children, once they are fully grown, equipped, and trained, as fodder against their enemies. Which right now, is mainly us. Throwing their lives away as chaff. Forcing us to slay our own nation’s children in order to defend it.”
Rad’al had gone pale, and Ka’jin sighed. “Thank you for the lesson, honored uncle. That is—”
“No. It is not enough. I have not yet finished the lesson, young nephew. For you see, any woman found over Steel is bound in mana restricting and chie blocking shackles, and taken deep into their forest for breeding stock to keep their slave pens full. The other women are slaughtered, or given to the Wood Guard as a reward. Any man under Steel is sent south, and sold to the Snakes. Where they are worked to death in the mines along the southern side of the mountains that separate the Empire and the Naga’s jungles. Any man over Steel, who had the misfortune of being captured, is flayed alive, and left to bake in the sun along the borders of their forests.”
“That’s horrible.” Rayce’s voice was subdued, and I felt a familiar, and dark depression settle over not only me, but the entire room.
“It is my young nephew. It is. But it is worse than mere execution. The flayed ones live longer than they should. The wood stakes they are bound to are infused with chie and mana designed to keep the captives alive, awake, and aware as long as possible. The entire time, they scream, loud enough for their agony to reach our fortresses. It unnerves the men, keeps us up at night. Gives us nightmares and terrors, and worst of all, those screams cover their activities when they decide to raid us.”
“Then why don’t you stop it?” I asked. My voice didn't shake, didn’t waiver. It wasn’t an accusation, for I thought I knew what he would say next. But rather, the Genji side of me wanted to make sure all of these people, these high living, protected, safe people, knew the horrors that could befall those who didn’t have such protections or privilege. While the Sakura side of my soul recoiled at the horror I had conjured up in my mind.
“We do. Now. We put an end to their suffering as often as we can.”
“You can’t launch a rescue?” Someone else at the table asked. “To bring them back alive for treatment?”
“I wish we could, cousin Sa’ma. But once someone is staked, and baking, any attempt to interfere with the enchantments keeping them alive will kill them. Worse, it will alert the elven air raiders that someone is at their borders. You see, the staked ones are traps. If we launch a rescue with a small force not easily detected by their main guards, the enchantments on the stakes alert their griffon knights. Who take to the air and kill any who attempt to flee. If we launch a raid in force, then we risk escalating the conflict. Something our Emperor has directed us to avoid. And we have not yet found a way to break their enchantments without alerting them we are there.”
There was bitterness in Raif’s voice then. And I could tell that there were reasons beyond petty politics and slights, that Raif didn’t like the Imperial Clan.
“So, instead, we have taken to keeping a close watch on the perimeter. Whenever we can, we use long range attacks to put an end to their misery. While we attempt to prevent these tragedies in the first place by launching raids whenever one of our scouts spots them working on putting up a captive. If we stop them mid process, it won’t alert their knights in time, allowing us to escape. It is a small hope though, as the elves are expert at taking captives in the dead of night. And there are far too few of us capable of moving swiftly enough to intervene.”
Raif showed his scar again. “That policy saved my own life once. A wyvern rider had snatched me up about two years into my assignment. I was newly assigned to the border and hadn’t yet learned to keep an eye on the sky. They took me to their slave pens, where I saw their evils first hand. When they learned my cultivation stage, and that I was a member of the ducal family, they dragged me to the border and began the felaying process.”
He traced the scar with a butter knife he had used on his toast. “Me and three others were dragged to the border, and they started working on us. A cavalry charge on Gamera was the only way to save us. The warriors who rescued me found me with the skin half cut from my face. A fate kinder than the two men before me. It was then that I not only knew the lesson that power is the duty of a leader, but that I understood it. I faced it. Was faced with the reality of it. And ever since have been acting under that truth. Power is as much your duty as leadership.”
A profound silence fell on the family, as slowly the sounds of people eating lunch picked back up. Scraping utensils on plates, or the wood of chopsticks as was more traditional in the southern kingdom of the empire, filled the quiet.
“Uncle.” Ka’jin said, and everyone’s attention went to him. “I would be happy to take you up on your offer. With Crash, I believe I will grow like I have not seen before. He has already helped me overcome significant hurdles I faced with chie generation. I would find your aid in core hunting, most welcome.”
***
My afternoons were filled with a focus on traditional education. Math, history, geography, and the like. At first, the information was new and vital. But after a while, I grew bored and pushed through the tests and examinations far quicker than my tutors, under Gamera’s watchful eye, assumed I would.
Eventually, I was able to test my way to more advanced coursework. To advanced math and theory that I hadn’t learned as Genji back on Earth. I found that information far more interesting, but it took up less time in the afternoon.
That left me nearly four hours to myself and my projects every day.
I usually spent an hour or more with my silkworms. Infusing them with chie and mana, as the tailor and silkworm attendant, whose wife I had met at the fair market, showed me how to do. He came by every few days to check on my progress. I also kept careful and detailed notes about their production and growth in size.
The two worms had nearly doubled in size within the first two weeks.
My letters to the lady Ta’wen had gotten through, but I had yet to receive one back from her answering my questions. That was, until week three of my new routine, when I received a package and a letter.
Lady Sakura Gamra,
Thank you for your kind words and your continued interest and patronage. If the man you found did in fact once work with my family in an auxiliary capacity, I would be most eager to meet him. Half my family’s lore has been lost, and he could very well be part of my restoration efforts.
My husband and I have discussed it, and we plan on, eventually, making our way to the capital for a visit. Perhaps when the local Count, Count Mor’an, begins his patrols again when he returns from his own trip to the capital, that will become possible.
I have included a small package. It is a collection of three books on my family’s lore I have painstakingly reconstructed over the last few years. I have the originals. These are reprints I have written by hand as we have no printer close by. I have also included two more silkworm larvae, and hope that they made the journey safely.
My lord husband asks that you give your uncle Raif, a warm welcome and congratulations. As word of his selection has reached us even here, in the far-flung corners of the province.
Your loyal servants,
Lady and Lord Ta’wen
I began studying the three books with an intensity I had rarely known as Genji. But the feeling was both welcome and familiar to Sakura.
After a few days of trying to decipher some of the more obscure pieces of lore with no success, I decided to show them to the tailor.
“Mr. Kagya, welcome.” I invited the man into the workroom, where I kept the silkworms and the remnants of my other projects. Or Sakura’s past projects. Mr. Kagya was the husband of the sales woman I had met at the festival. He had been helping me for weeks now with the worms.
“Thank you, young mis.” The man was of average height and average build. One of a thousand other people who somewhat blended together. His only real distinguishing feature was his mustache, which seemed to be common among animal handlers or craftsmen of his level.
Mr. Kagya went to the silkworm enclosure, and measured, then weighed them. “They’re doing very well, young miss. They’re nearly three times their previous size. Which was already healthy to begin with. They will probably cocoon soon. So we should prepare for that.”
“Sounds good. Mr. Kagya, I have something else I wish to share with you.” I pulled out the three books of lore. “These are from a Lady Ta’wen, along the eastern border of the duchy. They are, as best she has been able, recreations of the lore of the family who you learned silk worm husbandry working for.”
“The Ra’dra family lives?” he looked awestruck as he leafed through the pages of the books. “Yes. These are their methods. Though, there are some pieces missing. And there are some things in here I can not confirm, as I was never privy to all of their knowledge.”
“I understand. And yes, there is one sion of their house remaining. Lady Ta’wen was away from their estates when the attack came.”
“That is fantastic news, my lady. I thought they were gone, and their loss was a great tragedy. Lady Ta’wen you say?”
“Yes. And as you can see here, she is attempting to recreate her family’s lore.” I placed one hand on the books. “I was hoping you might be of service in helping her with that work.”
His eyes lit up. “I, I would be delighted too, my lady. But, how?”
“What do you mean?”
“It would be unwise for someone whose oath belongs to others, to be trusted with such secrets and private matters.”
I stared at the man uncomprehendingly. What is he on about exactly? “What do you mean?”
He looked deeply uncomfortable for a moment. “I am a sworn member of the tailor’s guild locally. The tailor’s guild is sworn to your house. The Ta’wen family, it sounds like, is sworn to their local Barron, and through them, the regional Count. It would be beyond hubris for a peasant like myself to ask your father, or the guild, for leave to work for another house, young mis.”
“Oh.” I thought about the issue for a moment. I didn’t want to cause heartburn among the nobility. But I knew that this had to happen. The silk from these worms, even as they were now, was far too valuable to allow to languish in obscurity. It should, in my estimation, have been one of our region’s primary exports.
“The Ta’wen family will visit the capital soon. Let me work things out. Please, until then, simply keep an open mind.”
“Of course, young mis.”
***
“Wait. How expensive is it to buy a peasant out of their contract?” I asked Raif as he smirked.
“Nearly a thousand gold duckets. Normally it would be silver, but someone like him, who is a craftsman of some skill, in multiple trades? He’s worth gold.”
“That sounds excessive.”
“It is. But guilds are designed to protect our region’s supply of labor in crucial markets. People need food, clothes, and shelter. So, the tailors, builders, and farmers’ guilds are some of the strongest, not only in our region, but in the entire Empire. They do not look favorably on a noble trying to coerce someone into switching professions.”
“But it’s not coercion. He wants to do it. And it wouldn’t be forever. He’d just be helping restore a lost art.”
“Mostly true. Which is why, with the help of one of our clerks, I’m sure we could arrange a temporary contract. The fact that the local guild owes direct fealty to your father is also a bonus. It means they won’t try to gouge you. Because if they did, he’d . . . well, he’d be upset. But don’t think that just because a peasant says one thing to your face, that they mean it.
“Remember my little niece, the power difference between yourself and that man is vast on a social, legal, and potentially a cultivation level. Saying one thing to your lord, then turning around and telling your guild you don’t want to do that thing, and hiding under their skirts for protection, is an extremely common practice. Particularly when a peasant works with high nobility. And this man is new to working with you. You haven’t built the trust he would need in you to tell you the truth if he didn’t want to do it.”
“Alright. So, who do I ask for help?”
Raif didn’t respond for a full minute, as he was struggling to give his new companion a sand bath. Something tortoises needed, as a water bath, didn’t really help scrape the old growth from their shells like sand did. Gamera needed the same treatment, but only about once a month or so rather than nearly every week.
Finally he got Biter, as I was thinking of him, into the pit despite his protestations and prodigious nibbling of Raif’s clothes. “I’ll find someone. But only on one condition.”
“What?”
“Help me give this guy a bath.”
***
I woke up to the smell of fire and unbearable humidity. My clothes stuck to my body, and I had to peel my bedsheets off in order to stand to investigate.
The small bed I had installed in my room for Little King, and mother and father had paid to be inlaid with mana stones that gave off a weak but constant aura he could absorb in his sleep, was smoldering. When my feet hit the floor, they were instantly covered in water.
“What is happening?” The water only went up to my ankles, but it was steadily flowing from the still smoldering bed.
Little King was nowhere to be seen. I felt panic rise in me, as I fell to my knees and began rooting around in the still burning ash looking for him. My fingers burned, but I hardly noticed. The smell of burnt flesh mixed with the ash in an acrid odor, but still it was only a distant thought.
Finally, my fingers brushed against a hard shell. I gripped it and pulled him free.
Only, the shell was all I pulled free. And it crumbled in my hands.
I screamed and ran for the door. “Help! Help! Someone help!”
A guard pulled the door open before I even reached it, his spear sword held at the ready. “My lady?”
I barrelled past him. I have to get to the stable master’s quarters! I thought in a panic.
Hands gripped me, and I pulled away from them. Until more sets of hands grabbed my shoulders, and held me still. “Hold on young mis. Young mis! You’re burned!”
It was the elderly maid who held me still. I had somehow escaped the iron grips of the guards, only for her hands to hold me tight. She must be silver stage or higher, I thought absently, as I felt the remains of my companion crumble in my fingers. I felt tears falling, but no sobs came.
“What is this? Looks like a molting skin you’re holding. And your hands are burned. What’s going on young mis?”
“He . . . he’s dead.” I could barely get the words out. “Tried to save him. Pull him from the ash but he’s gone.” I held the remains up for her to inspect and her serious steely gaze examined what I held.
“Oh, dear. A nightmare I see. Come, let’s check on your little friend.”
I tried to explain, to tell her I had tried. That something had gone wrong with his bed, that he was gone. But she just kept talking, soft whispered words of comfort as she led me back to my room.
In the room the water was still flowing, and the smoke was still coming from the bed. But, the bed was still there. Working as it should. The gems in the canopy over it were still glowing lightly giving off their peaceful aura of mana.
The elderly maid, I still hadn’t memorized her name despite weeks living with the woman, bent to examine the bed. “Ah, I see the problem. The hay you left for his bed caught fire and smoldered. The beds fire suppression enhancement activated. No need for panic, young mis.”
She turned around and held in her hands a bleary-eyed, and much larger, Little King. He opened his mouth in a yawn of confusion, and then let out a little squeal of protest as his legs reached for me.
“You must have had a nightmare, and started moving before your mind was clear.” She said quietly, handing me the still warm, and much, much denser turtle. “Don’t you worry. I’ll speak to the guards.”
“But. But I gripped his shell. I burned my hands on his shell and it crumbled.” The tears still fell, but this time it was in relief. I let myself openly smile as I pulled my little companion into a hug. He squeaked in protest, but then let me as he got a glimpse of my fingers and began licking at the wounds with a rough tongue.
“I see. You mean this?” She held up the crumbled looking shell and I nodded. “Gamera, like all turtles, molt as they grow larger. This little one has grown past his foundation stage. He’s now copper if I’m not mistaken. And look at him, he’s nearly the size of a cat now.” She smiled and scratched under his chin, which caused the turtle to stretch out his neck further for more scratches. “I remember when my Dandelion had her first molting. It terrified me. I went to sleep, and the next thing I know, I have nearly a new garden growing in my bedroom as she bloomed into her wood mana. They are remarkable creatures, aren’t they?”
I remembered in the back of my mind that Gamera had told me as much during my first lessons on how to care for the little turtle. As my mind fully cleared from the panic and sleep, my fear and pain in my fingers was slowly replaced with shame and a burning in my face.
She coaxed me to put Little King on the bed, and I did as she asked. Leaving him in the capable hands of a bleary-eyed stable boy. “Josia will take care of King for now. Let’s go get these fingers tended to.”
“Thank you.” I whispered to her as we made our way past the guards. I felt a burning in my face as I realized I must have woken the entire palace. Guards ran for stations, or scanned the skies or surrounding area for danger, while members of both the inner and outer families, including Raif, wandered around wondering what had happened.
“You’re most welcome, young mis. You and your family have always treated me and mine with nothing but respect. I’m always happy when I get a chance to repay that kindness.”
“What, what’s your name?” My face burned even more after asking the question, as I could see clear signs she was suppressing a smile. It was clear to see, even in the dim candlelight.
“Rosalee.”
That name sounded far, far different than any I’d heard in the Jade Empire. It honestly sounded almost American. “Is your family from outside the Empire?”
Her smile grew and she nodded, still leading me towards where the healers were stationed. “Yes. Me and my family come from the Human Kingdom to the far, far west. We were captured by the elves during a raid on the eastern dutchy years and years ago. But Raif rescued us before we could enter their pits. He saved not only my life, but my six daughters as well. It’s why I serve your family as I do. Despite being able to go home. I have a debt to pay.”
“That is our duty. To serve and protect all people in our domain. You were a victim, my uncle was only doing what any of us would have done. There is no debt there.”
“Let’s agree to disagree, dear. Now, here we are.” We stopped at a large set of double doors, and she pounded on them hard enough to wake the dead. “Don’t you worry dear. The healers will see you right.”
After a few seconds of waiting, the healer and his two apprentices ushered me inside and practically forced me onto the examination table. They tisked, examined, poked and prodded, and then slathered my burns in some kind of healing salve. Declaring the burns, “second degree. Serious, but nothing life threatening.”
I watched as the salve forced blisters to form, and then pop, then heal in the matter of seconds. Forcing my hands through the natural healing process and aiding them along in the doing.
“At least I match my mother now.” I said glibly.
“Don’t you say that, dear,” Rosalee said sadly. “You’re going to be just fine. Your mother’s wounds were much more severe than this.”
“It’s true young mis. Your wounds should be healed within the hour. Your mothers were far, far worse.”
“What exactly does that mean?” I asked, forcing myself to match the healer’s gaze with my own. “What really happened to Yu?”
The old man grew flustered, before sputtering some nonsense about patient confidentiality, and then leaving me to his assistants. The two young men didn’t know much more than I did.
“You should trust your mother, that she knows what she’s doing, young mis. She’s wise, in keeping certain facts from the ears of the men of this house.” Rosalee said, as she sat next to me and began working on some kind of knitting project I saw her working on whenever she wasn’t busying herself with cooking, cleaning, or laundry.
“What does that mean?” I kept my voice down, and tried to make my words not sound accusatory, and as curious and concerned as I could. It came easily, a skill Genji had honed back in China.
“Only that, if raised, your uncle and father’s wrath is formidable. Even great spirits would hesitate to face them in conflict. They remind me of my own husband before our capture. The man was as stubborn as an ox, and a brave warrior. You’d not have met a more honorable man. But if he saw a hand laid on me or his children, there’d be no talking sense into him. And despite all his strength, training, and experience? That temper of his is what got him killed, in the end. And his family captured by those knife ears.”
She left it at that, leaving me to parse the wisdom in her words, as my blistered popped and boiled, and my skin slowly healed.