Cool morning brought about the first few clouds in days, as was customary. Little time passed in any given province without the least amount of rain. Chunzun all but forced Ira to put more effort into his physical therapy. He’d progressed nearly back to normal in speech, which would have thrilled Ira, had his caretakers not dangled the mystery of some unfeasible responsibility in his mind.
Presently, he, Gon and Chunzun conversed while Ira tried out various stretches under a courtyard tree. It was less a conversation and more a lecture, but Ira drove his input wherever he could.
“You should already be aware of this, but Agriculture, or more accurately, the Republic, operates on a few core concepts. One of those is the empire’s relation to the human body. The Empress herself, she’s key to its functions, thus representing both the legs and head. The empire’s ubiquitous forms and methods of imperialism, that’s its arms. The nobility of course are the neck.”
“With the neck being the most vulnerable part of the body in a fight,” Ira chimed.
“Strike your enemy at the neck for a quick kill, that is a solid strategy. But never forget to guard your own.”
Ira bent over as far as he could without losing balance, which wasn’t very far even with the support of his cane. He kept bending at the left knee when he was supposed to keep it straight. Chunzun continued to guide him. “Be like water, Irashida. Lean all your weight to your left, focus your energies there. Oh, look who’s shown up!”
Ira pushed himself up, nearly stumbling to see their visitor.
Turning, he saw Tobirune approaching them with his usual grin and balding head, save for his black ponytail at the back. Following nearby was a woman with a smile as radiant as the spring. She looked younger than Chunzun by a few years, with peppered hair trimmed neatly at the collar bone, nose sharp and slim. Like Tobirune, she donned black robes and a gray belt tied at the waist. Her gaze singled out Ira instantly.
“Young Lord Irashida!” Tobirune exclaimed. “We’ve got someone that wants to meet you!”
The five of them came together. “This is Lady Cheri, Lord Tsugo’s wife. She’s heard a lot about you and your recovery and is very excited to get to know you.”
Lord Tsugo’s wife? Why haven't I heard about her before? Noting the sapphire gems in her ears, he bowed deeply in respect. She gave him an endearing look. “He seems sweet as the cherry blossom. What was his name again?”
“Takasa Irashida at your service, Lady Cheri.” Ira bowed once more.
Cheri’s smile spread. “What a sweet looking boy!”
“We know you’ve been eagerly awaiting a task outside the castle grounds. Even something this grand must seem like a prison at some point. Suffer no longer, your new duties will now be administered. We’d like you to be her lady’s attendant.”
“Attendant?” Ira asked. “As in servant, my lord?”
“Servant?” repeated Cheri, a touch mockingly. “Is there an issue with being my attendant?”
Ira stammered. “I, it would be-”
“He only meant to ask for clarification,” Gon interjected. “You will attend to her needs throughout the day, Irashida, and follow her on any errands throughout the city. There’s always much to do, after all.”
“Oh, lovely!” Cheri reached to grab Ira’s hands, and before he could react, she’d taken them and pulled him in closer, shocking him as he toppled to his knees. “Careful dear! You’ll need to be quicker on your feet if you mean to keep up with me!”
Squeezing her hands for support, Ira tried to keep himself upright. His mind went blank trying to come up with a response. “My cane…I need it…”
The three others came to his rescue, Tobirune gently bringing Cheri away from Ira and the other two bringing him to his feet. Chunzun handed Ira his cane with a weak smile. “Lady Cheri can be a bit, well, overzealous at times. She’ll keep you on your toes, but we figured you’d want a challenge.”
Empress’ soul, what under the heartless heavens made you figure that? he thought.
Ira sturdied himself. “Right. I will, keep that in mind. I am pleased to be your attendant for however long I must, my lady.”
Gon placed a hand over his shoulder. “Just until you’ve made a full recovery, young lord. Then you can join the ranks of the other Ginju, where you belong.”
***********
“Graces! Shujukin is full of so many delights!”
Ira limped along, following at Cheri’s heel. The city was energetic and lively by mid-afternoon, complete with the scents of human bodies, animals, and food dishes. He struggled to keep up, solely because Cheri walked damn fast, and without the need to weave around people and objects, for they weaved themselves around her.
He noticed that here, the streets were more organized, in a sense. “Such a lovely city!” she cried.
Ira felt it interesting, if severely lacking compared to Kawanura. The architecture wasn’t as bold nor as varied, though he supposed she was attempting to bolster his opinion of it, or prodding for his thoughts.
“Indeed, Lady Cheri. It is, very clean. An exemplary abode.”
“Hmm, I’m sorry?” Cheri abruptly stopped and turned to him. “Oh, what did you go by again?”
“Irashida, my lady. But you may call me Ira for short. It’s the nickname my siblings gave me.”
Before their departure, Gon had pulled Ira to the side and explained Cheri’s ailment. “She suffers from early onset disruption of the mind. She’s senile, as you could probably guess. She’s never gotten along with any of her other attendants, so we figured this may be a good fresh start. Honor it.”
“Ira, that’s right. The one who confused himself with a servant!” she cackled wildly to herself. “Where do you hail from, young Ira?”
“From River province, my lady. I am the Ginju son of the late Lord Takasa Arusuke, High Lord of the Takasa clan.”
Cheri stared him in the eye, unfazed. “What is your age?”
“Eighteen, my lady.” He only now realized he’d turned eighteen just yesterday, on Seventh Day in the first week of Fenn. The occasion usually meant small gatherings thrown by Aiya and Koji with their peers, complete with hand picked flowers from sweet little Asaya. Not this year. Like his previous age, that fleeting tradition was phased out, forever to be looked upon in fondness like an old, chipped spinning toy. He’d taken his first steps into the domain of the elderly.
They made their way down a lane of longhouses and thick foliage. Ira felt almost overwhelmed in attending to her every need, convinced she would discard him the moment he did not meet her standards. He drew stares, catching them in glimpses. Obviously no one knew him here, but the sight of a cripple side by side with the second most revered person in Agriculture caught the attention of many. Heads hung in deference when she walked by.
Just when Ira wondered about the nature of their excursion, they stopped a lumbering carriage in which a long haired young lord named Oda gifted Cheri a bouquet of blue flowers. She almost jumped, giddy with joy. Flowers and gardening were two of her favorite things. Oda gave Ira a pitying look before moving on.
They stopped at a shop for buying paper lanterns. Cheri took the ones she wanted as the shop owner produced for her an ink jar and a brush. She spent the next two hours painting exaggerated written characters on the lanterns which weren’t on display, sometimes turning to whisper something. Ira got the impression she was saying something to somebody who wasn’t there, and towards the end of their stay he wished for a moment with his own imaginary guest.
Cheri didn’t converse with him so much as ramble about this or that building’s mundane history, lords she spoke of as if she once knew them, though Ira knew they were still very much alive and prominent. Lady Akarano Hija for example, who was recently made head of one of Agriculture’s seven pillar families. She droned about her children whom Ira had met, Totane and the twins, Risako and Johori, though she strangely never mentioned anything of substance. He was beginning to grow bored and would have asked any of the passing nobles to discuss with him any topic at length. Any topic at all, except he froze at the thought of stuttering and making a fool of himself in the presence of Tsugo’s wife. Instead, he focused on Cheri’s steps which were sometimes ordinary, and other times almost a skipping motion. Her feet moved up and down, in trajectory with her mood.
The sun eventually waned until the night chill returned. It was Third Night, and as they passed through the central office hub of the Tabeni estate, the moon shone bright in a black sky. The open gardens were lit by stone lanterns placed strategically around it. Crickets stirred with not a servant was in sight.
“Do you wish to retire to bed, my lady?”
Cheri yawned and stretched her arms. “Ah, yes, Ira. You should do the same. Time passes so quickly, there’s hardly time to rest.”
Instead of walking up the shallow steps into the castle, Cheri sauntered through the grass pastures.
“Where are you going, my lady?”
“To bed, my lord? We have to get to sleep.”
Ira pointed to the castle doors. “But, but your rooms are this way.”
“Not my room, Ira-shen. My bed is in nature, next to my beautiful gardens!”
She didn’t stop, and Ira was forced to follow her, trying to think of what to say in response. He thought frantically of how to deal with the situation. In the end, she was lying on an oak bench next to a bed of petite cherry bushes.
“My lady, why-”
Before he could even ask, she drifted away. Even a few prods to the shoulder did not wake her. So this explains why she and I never crossed paths the past two days I’ve been holed up here. He wondered if he’d never hear the end of it for letting her lie down out here like the lowest of common breed, though she was lying down in the luxurious gardens of her own estate. She was calm now too, chest lifting up and down with every light breath. He didn’t care to see her bad side just to get her to a bed she deemed less comfortable.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
For Ira, sleep would not come so easily. Rather than retire to his rooms, he went back out the way they came and roamed the city some more. By now it was mostly deserted, save the occasional lone traveler, nobles by the looks of it. He even saw a noblewoman making her way down a narrow alley in a rush.
Much to do, as always, thought Ira. He still felt like an outsider, and the fact he’d gotten himself here as one of Shujukin’s citizens made him bitter by it. He was of no help to any real cause yet, and ill fortune had shattered him into a fraction of what he once was.
Moonlight, stone posts, and paper lamps made traversing easy. Somewhere in the distance, there was the howling of dogs. Even in this place of harmony, not all are pleased with their fate.
His traveling was rather aimless, until he paused at a tower of disquieting familiarity. It was wide and tall, maybe two and a half stories high, bordering the edge of the city. The shrine tower, he thought. The same one he had collapsed in during his stroke when Tsugo’s eldest son, Totane, had been touring them through it.
He felt its calling, attracted to it despite that here rose the origin of his downfall. Bringing his cane forward, he made his way in.
The large brass doors painted red were heavy for him. When he got inside he was relieved to find he was the only one occupying the large room that smelled of incense and torch smoke. There was a shrine, four red archways intersecting each other to form a small cube, with a golden statue of the Oshidai at the center, standing maybe a foot tall. At the back of the room was the bottom of a staircase.
Ira stood in front of the Oshidai miniature statue. The monk sat criss-cross in golden robes, hands flat to his lap, eyes forever shut. He was the symbol of grace, knowledge, enlightenment, humility, courage, generosity and compassion. The seven virtues of Engo. The Oshidai roamed the Egaishan continent in days of old, wise in all his ways. He drew crowds everywhere he went, back when evil spirits were bolder, when monsters still lurked beneath running waters or Oni hid hunched in deep, damp caves. Even the Empress bestowed him with gifts, approving of his enlightenment.
The Oshidai was no god, nor deity, but an unnamed monk who had reached the pinnacle of enlightenment. Through generosity, he shared it with Erru across the continent. Noble and commoner alike sought him, and though he respected the natural order of hierarchy, he made himself a servant to all.
Ira watched the statue glow, reflecting warm firelight. He was reminded of the fable of the Sun Dragon. It was a tale the Oshidai told, one of a people of ancient past who struggled for survival across cold plains of freezing rain.
The Sun Dragon came to save them, giving them light in a dark world, giving them warmth, as well as the ability to grow crops so that they left behind their way of scavenging for food. However, the dragon was equally as controlling as it was kind. The people it saved were soon subjects of hard work and long hours in sweltering heat. They worked the fields and brought heaps of offerings to it, half of what they sowed. The people grew tired and bitter towards the dragon, which was answered with mocking.
“You have your own village now,” the dragon laughed. “You have more children and the means to grow more food than you ever imagined. Were I to depart from you now, you would again fall into chaos.”
But one man would not be so easily silenced as the others in his tribe. He was an enlightened one, and knew for his people to thrive and be at peace, they required a complete measure of freedom. Without freedom, there was no honor. And so he went to the Sun Dragon, despite the worried protests of his tribe, and stood before it. He shook with fear in every inch of his body, but he was also full of courage. The Sun Dragon could have struck him down, but not wanting to rile up the people of the village as its source of offerings, it asked the man what he desired.
“I desire for the heavens to honor my act of bravery today, and to render you no more. Oh heavens, retain the warmth of this creature which has been gifted to us, but as for its spirit, banish it back to the cold lands which we fought so desperately to escape from!”
And it was thus. A great wind blew from above, and the dragon’s spirit was whisked away into the freezing plains, and yet the sun hung high in the sky to provide its warmth, to this day. But the dragon was mighty, and through its power it is still able to snatch the sun back from the sky, bringing cold with it, but only for a time. The moon always recedes, and the sun always returns.
Remembering the tale gave Ira some tiny amount of hope. With some trouble, he sat and clasped his hands together, fingers interlocked.
To you, Oshidai in the heavens, this one humbles himself before you. He comes to give thanks and show gratitude for the events of his life. He gives thanks to the Empress…
He stopped. He was going to say 'for this day’, but Ira wasn’t certain if that was something he could or should say in his prayers, since he wasn’t wholly honest in his thanks towards the Empress any longer. He was a rebel, but he wasn’t going to make a liar of himself.
He gives thanks to the heavens for this moment.
His eyes had been closed, but now they were open. Prayers to the Oshidai were for the mind and the soul, not the body. They were for spiritual healing, for breaking the blockages of mental energies and opening oneself to virtue.
Soft thunder rumbled in the background. Somewhere, it stormed.
A murkiness welled in his eyes. He needed healing in the tangible realm, healing of the body. He needed a miracle.
He decided to take a gamble, and began to pray to the Kiru.
Oh hallowed ones, hear my call to you, he began, forcing down his apprehension. Oh mighty spirits of the earth, spirits of wind and water, spirits of nature and the living, heed me, please. I come…I come to you to ask a favor. I ask that you show pity and take mercy on this soul, that you will heal these scars I have been inflicted by ill fate.
He listened to the soft and foreboding snap of torchfire in the background, waiting. Kiru were the spirits of the earth that existed before mankind. They were rarely seen, but all Erru believed in them. Spirits were blamed for good and bad fortunes alike, though a person’s level of conviction on the matter varied. Some were more superstitious and considered everything to be the work of spirits. Like his siblings, Ira reserved a special fear for them in his heart.
Then he had an epiphany.
The river! He thought. How had he not realized before? He was a Ginju of eighteen years and possessed superhuman abilities. When in alignment with his deity, running and leaping across structures was no easy feat, but effortless. At least for the first few minutes, before his body became strained and tingly. He’d been so focused on his predicament and everything surrounding him that the idea hadn’t occurred to him.
A wide, ecstatic grin spread across his face. Eyes shut, he fought back near overwhelming excitement that his predicament would finally be solved. Taking a deep breath, Ira altered his mind. He let go of his version of reality and came to the truth, where only the river existed. He let himself sink, falling deeper into this truth with every passing moment.
It was almost as if he’d hit a riverbed floor he previously didn’t know existed. His alignment suddenly became foggy, the river before him muddled and unclear. His face twisted in confusion, having never witnessed or experienced anything like this. He didn’t feel its current as usual, nor did he spot any light from above. No flaring orbs of power. It was like lying at the bottom of a still, muddy pond.
Suddenly he couldn’t breathe.
Ira’s eyes flew open as he gasped for breath, clutching a hand at his chest. The river. He couldn’t feel it.
Panic set in as his heart raced and stomach fluttered. It was a worse fate than the loss of his leg. If he really was never able to align himself with the river again…
No. That wasn’t possible. Ira wouldn’t accept it. Nothing could separate him from his deity. Calm now, he thought. My mental energies must still be blocked.
He made a second attempt. When his mind and soul were submerged, all he experienced was clouding gray. He drifted back into the physical realm.
Moments passed. It could have been minutes as Ira sat soundly, quietly. Suddenly, he grabbed his cane from beside him and launched it at the wall. On its way it nearly knocked down a torch, clattering to the floor. Ira let loose and shouted into the night, forcing one long scream from his chest.
Seconds later, he sobbed uncontrollably. It took him a minute to stop himself, ashamed, as he wiped tears away. Pathetic, he thought. How could he call himself a Ginju, or even a man for that matter, when he was like this? Crying like a child, crippled like a poor commoner. Spent, he stared into the abyss.
The door creaked, slowly, as if not to interrupt his grief. Footsteps shuffling. The door closed gently. Footsteps coming closer.
Turning, Ira saw that it was a man. A rather young man, maybe five years Ira’s senior. He looked to be deep in concentration, but the most interesting thing about him was that he wore an eyepatch.
The man looked down at Ira, noticing him watching, and Ira turned back to face the floor. He was sure the man had seen the tear streaks on his face and the cane nearby. He didn’t care. All was lost.
“Not a great time for investments, is it?”
Ira didn’t know the man was talking to him at first, but he was the only other person in the room. Still, he was too tired to form a response. He didn’t even know one.
“Sorry, I assumed you were a native nobleman. I thought you looked familiar though. It’s Takasa Irashida, isn’t it?”
Ira turned to face him. How did this man know his name? Ira searched him, trying to remember. The striped robes, the youthful and serious face. The eyepatch. The details came rushing back into him and he knew the man instantly.
“You’re the one I caught outside Kawanura two months ago. You were making some deal or exchange with Master Shozhu near the forest shrine!”
Back in early winter, Ira had followed Shozhu after their father’s first public meeting with Sen, eavesdropping on his former master. At that point, he’d already struck a deal with Tsugo, kept secret as he monitored Shozhu’s activity. He’d dreamt everyday of the moment and method that he and his siblings would escape from under their father’s heels. Normal life then seemed so desirable now.
The man smiled, and to Ira’s surprise, it was a natural one. “You are correct. I go by Yosuke. Tajehida Yosuke, finance manager of several clans. I heard of your little incident.”
Ira tried to stand. It was a slow process and he wobbled quite a bit on his way up. Yosuke hurried to fetch him his cane. “You should probably keep this close by if you want to avoid another head injury.”
“I should have never been so brash to get myself into this affair,” Ira said, taking it and steadying himself. “Now my brother and sister are fighting in another part of the empire while I crawl alone at night, wretched.”
Yosuke thought for a moment. “True, you aren’t exactly entwined with the best of circumstances. Consider this, at least you won’t end up executed like your master.”
Ira eyed him. He recalled that Shozhu had given this man named Yosuke a ‘secret message’ to deliver. Something he was meant to guard with his life. “Now I’m curious. What were you and Shozhu discussing that day in the forest?”
“What, you didn’t manage to catch all of it during your eavesdropping?” Yosuke gave him an incredulous look. Then he smiled. “I’m joking, Irashida-shen. Shozhu was the precursor to our cooperation with River, but in the end he remained a pawn. We merely had him look into Hebi Owa’s finances, had him gather intel on Owa’s debts, investments and under-the-table connections. After all, Agriculture has use for such information for anyone we instate as High Lord. It gives us something we can exploit. Shozhu was oblivious to the fact he was about to be betrayed the entire time. As for his secret message, oh, that’s interesting.”
That Shozhu was continually led astray was news to Ira. He remembered how their uncle was always fostering yet cold to him, Aiya, and Koji. The last time he’d collapsed from his illness and become bedridden, they’d been passing through a field on the way to Stone, for some business Shozhu needed to take care of. Ira had been out for a day, and almost at full strength by the end of the second, yet Shozhu had been so infuriated by his ‘wasting time’ that he’d promised to simply go on and make Ira walk to catch up. It had been the only time Aiya and Koji used the threat of their strength against him and forced him to wait for Ira to recover.
Shozhu had at least been willing to give the three of them the time of day, but Ira couldn’t deny the bitterness in his own heart towards his former master. That man deserved whatever had come to him, and Ira decided he wanted nothing to do with him anymore, even in memory.
And perhaps Ira himself deserved whatever came to him. He’d only been looking out for his siblings, but had they really had it so terrible? He’d brought the downfall of his entire family and the murder of their own father. Possibly too, the murder of whatever clans remained loyal to the Takasa in the end. He had empathized with Agriculture’s ideas of independence, yet how many would die in the coming revolution? Perhaps he faced his turn of chaos for his misdeeds.
“Which is more important,” Ira asked, “is it community or the individual?”
“Ah, the one question even the Oshidai himself could not answer. Which should weigh more on the conscience, the many or the one? One useless life of a loved one or ten thousand honorable strangers? Well, in my mind, the ones worth saving are the ones with means, those who have made something of themselves. The nobility have risen above common Erru for a reason.”
Ira nodded, then went to take his leave. “That’s tradition. Some nobility though, I believe are as good as trash.”