“I never thought I’d consider Shujukin home, but it sure looks that way now,” Aiya admitted.
The city stood behind forty foot roofed walls in the rocky plains of central Agriculture. Beside Aiya was Koji, and around them, the returning army. It was Fifth morning in the second week of Fenn, and sleep over the past two days had been entirely too brief. Every marching soul shared one sentiment, and that was to see their first night of real rest within the comfort of those glorious and welcoming walls.
They’d neglected even their tents when setting up camp, at Koji’s suggestion, for it would make a quicker march upon waking in the morning. They made themselves content with sleeping on thin folding mattresses, offering little buffer between them and the rocky ground. Aiya awoke covered in dew, but pressed onward. On one hand, her situation was not as harsh as a number of towns and villages they passed, ravaged by war. They were common blood of Forgery, who had suffered casualties and destruction from war, and in return gained nothing.
Lord Fuda somehow found the energy to complain more than anyone, lashing out at his soldiers whenever they came his way. He cursed the sun for its mild heat and the moon for its dreary light. He claimed to be cursed himself by the heavens for his small rations of food.
They all ignored him, too worn to shut him up. Risako made sparse conversation with Gaku Hedi, entering into one dispute after another whenever they engaged with Totane as their mitigator. Yko distracted Aiya and Koji from their anxious ruminations by recounting stories of his and Tsugo’s younger days, consisting mostly of old grudges and public shouting matches with stuffy lords. Apparently, he and Tsugo were two of the Founding Four of the Republic who had reformed the province into what it was today. Thanks to them, a voting system was put into place and its stagnating, contentious population was set on the forward path.
It was mind boggling to Aiya, pondering the decades of sweat and blood Tsugo and Yko had spent setting their entire province against the immortal Empress. She couldn’t imagine the thought of such a feat occurring anywhere else in the empire. It was like gathering every commoner and noble clan of a city and ordering them to level a mountain, one pebble at a time. Then she remembered the murals Totane had shown her their first day in Agriculture. The people of Agriculture had been chipping at that mountain for an entire century.
Now they approached the city, battered and weary, Aiya filled with a measure of perturbed guilt. They should have woken at the first crack of dawn, but today they slept until the sun had fully peeked over the horizon. Every step her steed took was painfully slogging. Ira was still in that city, and he was waiting for them. Aiya knew it for certain.
Koji yawned, slumping on his mount. “Just don’t go jumping off your horse and take off running this time. I want to wish Ira a well birthday the same time as you. And I’m tired.”
Aiya let out a weak laugh. “Who are you telling?”
“I’d advise you to keep that back straightened,” Yko told Koji. He seemed to take joy in reminding him. Yko was diligent, by-the-books, and meticulous. “Let’s enter the city with our chests out and our heads held high. We’ve earned it, and so have our people.”
Her brother scowled. “More important than my back, better pray Risako and Lieutenant Hedi don’t kill each other before we get there. Would be such a shame for the city to see. It seems love can both build and destroy. How poetic….”
Koji entered into deep thought, but Yko shook his head. “You may try it, Lord Koji. I stick to what works, rather than waste idle breath on such things.”
Aiya, confused, raised an eyebrow. “You doubt the Oshidai might find it in himself to lend us insight from the heavens?
“Less that, my lady, and more that the Oshidai will not stick his hand out for anyone. You see, he is only a figment of the mind, a symbol of hope in the hearts of men whose purpose is to give their lives meaning. For myself, however, I create my own meaning. I have given my life entirely to the Republic.”
She wasn’t sure how she should respond. She’d not once heard any speak of the Oshidai in that way, and couldn’t see the logic in it either. Her father had rejected the notion of praying to the Oshidai and spirits, and yet held no doubt in his mind of their power. How could the Oshidai be a figment of the mind when his image and monuments were found everywhere? For what reason could Yko deny his wisdom, his enlightenment? To be fair, he hadn’t denied the Oshidai’s words, but for him to disregard his watchful spirit from the heavens above was surely the arrogance of a fool. Yko was no fool. “So the Oshidai, Engo, even the heavens themselves, you reject as mere wishful thinking?”
“The heavens are seen, though their intentions are unknowable. We live in a world of cause and effect, which our minds cannot help but ponder every second we lie awake, breathing. It is only natural that many would devise an accepted explanation for its mechanisms. Well, I don’t expect you to see eye to eye with me. The only person who ever has was a common man of Agriculture.”
For the first time, Aiya found her mind dwelling on River province again. Memories of Kisane, a servant of their estate in Kawanura, and her adopted daughter, Asaya, came flooding back to her. Asaya would be eight years old now, old enough to start reading poetry on her own. With horror, Aiya realized she had pushed any thoughts of the two from her mind since that fateful night of their separation. Again, she realized why. Aiya didn’t know if she would ever see them again, and any thought of their misfortune was too painful to bear. In her head, she said a silent prayer.
When they reached the gates, a massive opening in the stone defense, the cheering among the soldiers had already begun in earnest. The cheers of the city dwellers were greater.
Jodai soldiers along the tops of the walls and outside the gates rallied them in at the tops of their lungs. The wood doors of the city were wide open, revealing the masses of people who gathered at the entrance to the city. Elated, undulating bodies of all sorts, waved and shouted in joy. Scattered red and white slips of paper spun, fluttering through the air and gliding on the high. Swords were thrust into the air at the end of each cheering note. So loud the energy was sent rushing through their ears, invigorating.
The affair was enough to push away Aiya’s mounting fear and anxiety as her horse strode under the massive stone archways. Smells of cooking, meat and noodles. A warm meal had been prepared for them. Children and adults waved rice stalks wildly as they passed. So many lives from so many backgrounds. People with innumerable stories, and here they were, joined together for the conclusion of this one.
Enthusiastic soldiers in forest-jade armor clapped the weary Jodai on the back, families wrapping them in powerful hugs. Many let go tears of joy. Aiya turned to see a stream of tears from both Yko and the Agriculture Ginju. Totane wiped his tears away with the back of his hand. When it came away from his face, he smiled wider and happier than she’d ever seen him. It was good to see him smile.
Time to see her brother.
Aiya frantically searched the crowd, looking for but two familiar faces. Ira had to know they were here, had to be waiting for them like everyone else. The applause around her was dulled by her returning fear. He needed to be here.
She scanned Agriculture officials and the people of importance who’d been the first to greet them. Separated from the masses, she spotted the last person she’d spoken to before departing for Forgery. Tabeni Tobirune.
Aiya slipped off her horse as fast as she could, not caring how ungraceful she might look. Her entire frame ached, strained from the arduous journey. That was nothing to her now.
She practically sprinted to Tsugo’s brother, who watched her curiously ahead of two guards, wide smile waning a bit.
“Tobirune, Ira…” she huffed. “Where is he?”
“I’m right here.”
She started.
Behind her, amidst the gathering crowds and waving reeds, stood Irashida. Aiya’s hands involuntarily went to her mouth, and she gasped. She took a step back, as if her body were rejecting being suddenly thrust into a dream. Her mind took a moment to process the sight.
Her brash, slim, narrow faced brother leaned on a cane with his right arm in front of her. He was hobbling towards her as if imitating their uncle Shozhu in pain, his lips curling upwards in affection. Her strong and passionate brother.
It was really him.
She didn’t realize she was moving before she’d collided with him, arms clasping around him and pulling his body into hers. She buried herself in him, realizing she was crying. She almost didn’t notice him starting to tip over.
“Woah, hey!” Ira cried.
Koji was behind him to break his fall. His elder brother caught him in an embrace, hands clutching back of Aiya’s sleeves. “I’ve got you, Ira.”
They didn’t release their hold of each other for a long while. When they finally broke apart, Aiya gave Ira an apologetic look. “Sorry, Ira, I didn’t mean to knock you over. I barely thought of your cane.”
Ira wiped his cheeks with his free hand as he faced them both. “Yeah, well, I’m guessing you couldn’t have been up to much with this much energy. Damn it if your hair doesn’t look like a bird's nest. And, uh, you don’t smell too great either.”
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“We know,” Aiya replied. “We could soak in a tub of perfume all day, and still smell just as bad.”
“How are you feeling?” Koji asked. “Everything working properly?”
Ira waved a hand. “It doesn’t matter how I’m feeling so long as you two are here. You’re the ones that just got back from a war.”
Aiya noticed a light slur in his speech he hadn’t possessed before. Light, but noticeable.
Two women emerged beside them. One peeked behind the other, curious. She wore black robes and sapphire earrings, peppered hair falling down her neck. The other was tall and thinner than Ira, with a slacked face.
“Oh, good,” Ira said, stepping beside them. “This is Lady Chunzun, Tsugo’s only sister. She’s as good a caretaker as Kisane. And here is Tsugo’s wife, Lady Cheri. She’s…I’m her attendant. It’s been my profession for the week you’ve been gone, besides recovering.”
Totane, Risako, and Tobirune, along with a portly bald man, joined the fray. Risako embraced the lady named Chunzun, who would be her aunt. The rest held solemn looks.
Aiya studied Chunzun. The last member of the Founding Four; according to Yko, the Four consisted of himself, Tsugo, Tobirune and Chunzun. The woman’s blank expression didn’t change even when she opened her mouth.
“Where’s Johori?”
None met her eyes.
From the corner of her eye, Aiya caught Totane clutching his fists as he stared into the ground. He was almost trembling.
Without warning, Chunzun burst into tears. Risako began caressing her back as they all watched.
This could have been me with Ira, Aiya thought.
The portly bald man stepped between them Aiya and his family, placing a hand on both Risako and a sobbing Chunzun. “You’re free to enjoy the rest of the day with your siblings, Ira. Don’t worry about your duties, we shall take it from here.”
Ira faltered, trying to decide on something. “Let’s retire to the Tabeni estate.” He leaned on his cane and walked on, unsettled. “We have a lot of catching up to do.”
****
They told him everything. The memories and events came flooding back so that Aiya and Koji didn’t know where to start, but once they began, Ira remained suspended in disbelief. Aiya could hardly believe it herself, as she sat next to her brothers by Ira’s bed in a sparse room of the Tabeni castle.
“We embarked straight for the battlefield as planned,” Koji said. “Upon reaching it, we found men slaughtering each other over this bitch named Ueko, Sen’s mother.” He recounted in great detail their involvement in the battle. Sen’s swift fight with Lieutenant Toru, Hasa’s depravity, Honji’s unnerving death, and Totane’s fight with Sen.
“This Sen sounds pretty formidable,” noted Ira. “But to think he’s a Ginju…father couldn’t have been more backward in his judgment.”
“That isn’t all,” Aiya continued. “After we saved him, Ueko was saved by a massive army from Rain.” She told him of their fight with the Rain Ginju and Johori’s death, which made Ira quiet with fascination. She went through the events with him, as if experiencing everything over again. Their escape into the forest and their encounter with the spirit. She’d been too shaken to be taken off guard by its complete nakedness at the time, but looking back on it, it was strange and slightly off putting. More disturbing were the words it had spoken to her; maybe more accurately, through her. You are a blight on this earth. You taint the world. What did that even mean? Were they the words of an evil spirit? It was best not to focus on that now, so she spared her brothers that particular detail, moving on to their arrival at Tsuisaka and her second encounter with the Rain Ginju. Finally, their encounter with the Empress, and her servant, the dragon.
Before Ira could ask more questions, Aiya pressed him to explain his cane and his health.
“Gon and Chunzun, my caretakers…they told me I had a stroke. I was having trouble speaking my first few days out of bed, but thankfully it's come back to me now. I still have no feeling in my right leg.”
Aiya grew physically ill. Ira reassured them that he was mostly fine, and that this was the fate the heavens saw fit for him. He was just glad they were safe.
“Another secret I picked up on,” Aiya started with a sly smile, “Koji has quite the talent with romantic poetry.”
That piqued Ira’s interest. One thing after another. Love poems were usually considered quite feminine. “Isn't that unbecoming of a man?”
He answered with a scowl, then said, “Piss off, there’s a beauty in it you just wouldn’t understand.”
Laughing, Ira said, “Only joking. So that’s what you’ve been hiding in your notebook all this time. Well, whatever you write, it must be good. You’re going to let me read it one day.” Ira gripped the handle of his cane. “Though, I should also say that I can’t be sure you really saw a Kiru in the Forest.”
“What? Why not?” Koji replied.
“I just don’t think there was actually one there. I, um, prayed to one while you were gone, for your safe return. From the sounds of your story it doesn’t seem like it helped with any part of that. Sometimes I wonder if they’re real to begin with.”
Aiya thought she heard bitterness in his voice. But you know they’re as real as you and I, because they’re one of the things we all fear most.
“I mean,” he continued, hesitant with his words as if he didn’t fully believe them himself, “it is in the human mind’s tendency to look for and notice, even conjure, awful things when it is in the state of survival or caution or alertness.”
Aiya and Koji’s reply came in unison. “Huh?”
“Think of it when you are about to drink questionably spoiled milk. You wonder, ‘is it any good or have demons entered into it, and have yet to alter its appearance?’. Only soon after you are overtaken by your thirst and decide to take a sip. Then you think better of it, consequently disposing of the rest. As you watch the discarded milk expand and bubble upon the ground, you grow increasingly aware of defects and imperfections within the puddle, and at the same time, increasingly regretful of your decision to drink it. You may feel your stomach fold and feel the rotten slime of the milk sticking to the back of your throat, wishing you could throw it up as you consider the sweaty sickness you have subjected yourself to for the weeks to come, possibly ending with your death…and then you go about your day, and come morning, you’re fine. All worries are forgotten, only a product of your mind.”
Aiya exchanged a stumped look with Koji. “But…this hasn’t been forgotten.”
“Still,” said Ira, resigned, “it’s almost too fantastical to believe. To think you had a run in with the Empress herself. Of all outcomes. That makes this entire thing seem more…real. We’re actually going to have to overthrow her somehow. It’s kinda giving me goosebumps. Also, I don’t want to give her any credit, but this Renna sounds like quite a courageous soul.”
“Unpredictable, that’s for sure,” Aiya replied. She was glad Ira had been spared from it all. “We haven’t seen the last of her yet. We’ll be returning to Forgery in five day’s time. This war is only beginning.”
It was barely noticeable, but Ira looked a bit deflated. “I’ve another question for you. I only want your complete honesty. That night we fought Agriculture’s Ginju, I saw you caught by our ‘enemies’ twice. I know what you’re capable of, and there’s no way they should have been able to catch you so early on. Koji mentioned something about you taking an injury from ordinary soldiers. What happened?”
The floor took hold of Aiya’s gaze, refusing to let go. She breathed out heavily, shame returning for having kept Ira in the dark for so long. And yet, there was also some relief in it. “You don’t have to worry about that anymore, Ira. My troubles aligning with the river are long gone.” She stopped. Then, believing she owed him the full story, kept going. “Before, whenever I used too much of the river, my mind could not handle it, and collapsed. It got me into trouble the night we attacked Owa and defended our estate. Things went much better out there against the Rain Ginju. All I had to do was think of you and Koji. I still wasn’t enough to keep Johori from dying. No, that’s not fair, none of us were. But I did my best. Maybe that’s not enough, but at least the three of us are still here.”
“It’s more than enough,” Ira said. “I couldn’t be more happy at this moment. But, don’t tell me there are any more enemies running around in Forgery. How long will you be gone?”
“We don’t know when we’ll be back, but it won’t be nearly as dangerous this time,” Koji assured him. “We never got to thank you. Without you, we’d still be leashed up in River, waiting to turn sour like Shozhu. You’ve given us a new start, Ira. And it seems like you’ve found a good purpose here.”
“Just try not to scare us like that again,” said Aiya. She was only half joking.
***********************
Aiya was shown to her rooms by servants of the house, right down the hall from Ira and Koji’s rooms. Robes of dark blue silk adorned her, as requested. She thanked them, feeling heavy after a refreshing bath in the gardens. She’d passed Totane on the way there, who’d finished with his own bath.
“Finally got the roadkill smell off you,” she said.
“Yeah, it was pretty rough. I’m just glad to finally be back home.”
Silence passed between them.
“Johori was just as strong and dedicated as you. My brothers and I admire your strength. Sorry if I’m stepping out of bounds, but, I just had to say it, because I feel like I’m trespassing everytime I walk by you if I don’t.” She kept the other half to herself, the secret of the night Johori had imparted to her his true feelings about the Republic, doubts he’d been too afraid to bring to Totane himself. ‘I cherish myself, my province. I’m not self-sacrificing like the rest of Agriculture. I can’t give those things up for the greater good’.
Didn’t he have the right to know? Would Totane want to know?
“It’s okay, really. You should offer your condolences to Risako, he was her twin. She’s the one that’s lost a part of herself. But this is the cost of revolution.” He sighed. “Stand strong and keep guarding your heart. At any point, any of us could lose it.”
He walked on.
Aiya was back in her room, afflicted with the ruminations of her mind as she lay in bed. In just over a week, they’d all been thrown into situations dangerous even for the likes of Ginju. Ira’s words stayed with her. Tsugo’s words were not just empty platitudes anymore, but held real weight.
They’d taken their bridge and burned it behind them.
With deepened resolve, Aiya decided to become stronger. She was a Ginju, but that was not enough for any of them. She would fight and kill all enemy Ginju ahead of them, along with whatever else the Empress would throw their way. She would do it to protect her brothers, so that what happened to Johori would not befall them.
Of course, she couldn’t simply train in the way she always had. When one became awakened to their deity and began to comprehend it, they only strived to improve their alignment. Aiya had long since achieved perfect alignment with the river.
She needed to discover a new way.
I have to be much stronger.
Throwing herself from under the covers, she sunk at the foot of her bed in criss cross position.
Meditation had reached the limits of its effectiveness.
Still, it was where all problems began and how they were ended. It was a guide raft in the current of knowledge.
Aiya was seven years old again, learning to sail that raft for the first time.
She became one with the river. Let’s start this over.