Totane plucked a bush leaf from the inner hedge grounds. He examined it, green and veiny and full of life, before tossing it away. As a child, he had to be reminded many times to abstain from plucking these leaves. The inside of the hedge was carefully coated with poison of lotusbane, and placed indiscriminately around the hedge grounds were neck high stonewood poles, iron spikes sticking out from each in various directions. This is where he, Risako and Johori became Ginju, through learning pain, and through the meaning of agriculture.

Agriculture, the antithesis to death.

He left the fluttering leaf and reminisced on the previous night. Risako and he hadn’t got much rest. Their aunts, uncles, servants…every one of them idled in the main room, trying to find solace.

Johori was always full of questions, and full of hesitation, but he was strong and hopeful. The Republic had lost a great warrior, one who had remained faithful until the end.

Chunzun moaned quietly, and the rest of them shared her tears. Even Master Gon was without his usual quips. Totane cried, perhaps not for the last time. For now, they focused on taking their final steps before moving on. Just as they had with Chunzun’s late husband, Hiroya. Up until then, death seemed a long way off for all of them.

Risako crept up behind him in matching robes of forest-jade green, the official colors of the Tabeni estate. Clutched against her bosom was the red and gold vase that contained Johori’s ashes. Behind her, their mother, Tobirune, Gon, Hedi, and Chunzun.

With her long and flowing black hair tied and pulled down her back,Risako thought of herself as the most clever of them. Totane, with hardened features and hair brushing the nape of his neck, had never allowed her that boast uncontended. That was, until now. He could no longer view Risako in the same light of rivalry again. They were two thirds of a whole now, and a missing part.

Risako looked deep into his eyes, sharing a past only the two of them knew. Reliving it and relishing in it one last somber time. “For the Republic he lived, and for the Republic he also died.”

Totane nodded firmly.

Risako took the jar and removed the lid. At that moment, a slight breeze came through the garden from the cloudy skies. She lifted it and overturned it. The ashes scattered to the side, blown about by the wind. Totane watched them disperse onto the ground.

“Where’s my husband?” mother cried, and she burst into tears. Chinya went to calm her, leading her away. It was best not to overwhelm her.

“I regret that Tsugo couldn’t be here,” Tobirune said, eyes lowered.

Head hung low, Totane faced Yko, who had stepped beside him. Yko knew the pain of loss; Totane could not imagine how the man stayed so calm, how any of his clan did. Yko was as much blood to him as any, and Johori’s death surely stung him to his core. “I thought…I thought that he would make it.”

Yko removed his winged helm, a signifier to his commanding status. “It never gets much easier to bear, but it does get easier to move on.”

Tobirune declared, “Today is a day for Johori’s remembrance, for all of Agriculture, and tomorrow a shining new chapter for the Republic. We should honor his wishes not by faltering, but by pressing forward.”

“It just isn’t right,” Totane said. “Shujukin doesn’t even feel the same, even the food and the streets are different.” It was as if his world had been painted over with duller, darker shades. Any joy, satisfaction or sense of accomplishment felt stifled in everything he did, and Totane wasn’t sure if he’d ever be normal again.

Risako set the jar on the ground and placed her hands on his shoulders. “It probably won’t ever look the same. But if anything, this can give us strength. Just like with mother. We’ve lost Johori, but we still have new allies that will carry on his legacy.”

Totane thought of Aiya and Sen. He liked Aiya, considered her possibly the bravest of the bunch, and just as curious as her brother Koji. When she’d sworn oaths to the Republic, he’d been skeptical. Along with Irashida, they’d no doubt been willing to do anything to free themselves from the grips of their father. What a horrible man the River lord must have been. But that alone wasn’t enough to convince them of their dedication to the Republic’s cause, and if their hearts were not in the revolution, they might well prove more a hindrance than helping hands. Potentially dangerous.

After the night before, when he and she had conversed for brief moments after their baths, something seemed different about her. Perhaps he only saw her differently, for what she truly was. She was committed to their cause, a woman of her word, with or without Irashida’s presence. It was the logical commitment to come to, for it was the very empire that had created her father. Now she was an ally, a friend, maybe more.

Sen seemed a natural leader, probably the most ideal High Lord they could have hoped for. Doubt could neither be cast upon his loyalty. In exchange for the life of his brother, the heavens had bestowed his heart that small mitigation.

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

“What’s done is done. But before we dive back into the public eye, there’s one last thing I want to do,” Totane said.

*****

The engraving shop near the third noble district was three streets and two rounded corners from the Tabeni estate. A sloped, corrugated roof overhung the squat house which was elevated from the streets below. The building was graced by two trees on each side of it, walls red and its doors coated bronze. In the entrance, at the top of the doorframe, was a sign. A sign which should have read ‘Eiji Togi’. The sign, though, was painted over with a layer of black.

“What’s up with that?” Risako asked as they climbed over the steps leading to the entrance. A steady stream of pedestrians passed behind them. The sun had long peaked out from the clouds, scattering light through the gray overcast. It was only the two of them outside the shop, swords at their waists.

“I don’t know, was the shop bought out while we were gone?” Totane stepped towards the dimness, standing in the doorframe. The doors were wide open, revealing interior walls decorated with swords, sheaths, shields, and a variety of engraved weapons. The room was dark. “Togi?”

No answer. He stepped in, Risako behind him, and called again. The darkness didn’t stir. In the center of the room was a stump of wood with an anvil on top, and a chisel next to it. To the left was a large desk, and behind it he could just make out a large glaive nailed to the wall. Togi was nowhere in sight.

“Strange,” said Risako. “I wonder what came up for him to close down shop after a battle.”

“Maybe he came down with something.” Totane walked around and examined different parts of the shop. The anvil had nothing on it, and it was empty behind the desk as well.

“I’m stumped,” he told her.

She gave a questioning look, and he could see her running through possibilities in her head. “Maybe you scared him off.”

“Scared him?”

“He heard we were coming back from battle, and he knew you’d be angry.”

“Why would I be angry?”

“It’s not unnatural to you. Remember the time you threatened his shop when Togi refused to fulfill Lord Kenzen’s request before that common girl’s coming of age ceremony?”

“Yeah, you mean when he prioritized a commoner’s wishes over a noble judge on the council? Besides, Togi would never run, even from me. He was too strong-minded.”

Risako shrugged. Behind them, a voice called. “Lord and lady, I’ve been looking for you.”

Tajehida Yosuke ambled up the steps, characteristic eyepatch strapped around his head. He bowed to them, then looked into the empty shop behind them.

“Yosuke-shen,” Risako replied, “what brings you here?”

“I was informed of the passing of our Lord Johori, your brother. I came to offer my deepest condolences.”

Yosuke bowed again, showing his sincerity. Totane knew Yosuke to be as serious as they came, and a busy man at that. He appreciated the fact that he’d gone out of his way to pay his respects. “Thank you, Lord Yosuke. We are honored by it.”

“The honor is mine, my lord. Are you looking for Lord Togi?”

“We are. What happened to that sign up there?”

Yosuke sighed. “I’m afraid I’ll be the bearer of more bad news today. Just this morning, I had to break up a small gathering of commoners from here, men who have just returned from battle like yourselves. It’s how I figured you’d be here. Eiji Togi is no more. He passed the day after you left. We believe rotten spirits entered his body through spoiled food.”

Totane had to make sure he’d heard correctly. “Huh? Togi is dead?”

He looked to Risako, only to see she was just as confused as he. The man who worked his way up from commoner to noble as the most skilled engraver in Agriculture. Totane would have bet that he was the most skilled engraver throughout the empire.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with this misfortune the day after you’ve returned from so many other tragedies. You’ve come to mend things within yourself. The other men came here to do the same. It’s rare a man like Togi comes along, with such skill and fervor. With no children, it’s a shame none will live on to continue his legacy, but he has doubtlessly inspired thousands to follow his footsteps.”

There wasn’t a response that could aptly express Totane’s shock. It was as if a whirlwind had come and knocked him at his gut. “Why weren’t we informed of this before?”

“Apologies, Lord Totane. I understand your family needed time to grieve. Which is why I regret interrupting you now, but there is something I must bring to your attention. You are set to return to Forgery in five day’s time, but if I can, I’d like to persuade you to stay.”

“Go on,” said Risako.

“You see, tensions between those common and noble are rather disturbed lately. Commoners in particular lack the proper deference, sometimes even defying orders and duties. You might consider the gravity of the matter, especially after your recent efforts.”

Risako nodded. “Things did seem a bit strained the weeks before we left.”

Suddenly there was a patter of feet, scuffing and heavy. To the right, pushing and spitting and careening through the crowds was a rather expansive man draped in fine mahogany robes, his bulging stomach tucked by a golden silk belt. He was bald all around with a face not so dissimilar to a pig. And he looked quite the startled pig, drawing stares from everyone around, before coming to a wobbly stop and panting. “P-pardon my improper disruption…Lord Totane, perfect Lady Risako…”

“Lord Bunta.” Totane recognized the man of thirty years, though Takeuchi Bunta was only a third rate noble.

“I implore your patience, and I ask that you pity my terrible punctuality. Nevertheless, you must accompany me to the eastern perimeter at once! Lady Ryo is presently being held prisoner by a pack of pugnacious common thugs!

“What?” Totane asked, exasperated. “What’s this about?”

“Looks like I came to you just in time,” said Yosuke.

Risako stepped down the short staircase. “Let’s go check it out.”