We will always miss you.
Koji scribbled the words into the notebook he carried with him everywhere he went. The ledge of the gray roofed viewing tower made for a scenic, inspiring view, even if a self-indulgent one; Lord Choza of Komohine had it built for his own personal pleasure so that he could watch the sun rise over the walls from the best angle. It was just below on the veranda where the common people of the city had threatened to throw Choza off, giving the lower city governors no choice but to let in eastern and Agriculture troops, appeasing them before his demise. Hopefully things were going just as well on Aiya and Yko’s end.
His hand dragged across the paper for the fifth time this minute, but Koji still drew a blank. He ripped the sheet from his notebook and crumpled it. Kisane deserved a better explanation, a better apology, better everything. On the night his father died, he and his siblings had left her in River province under Owa’s protection. He couldn’t forgive himself, but he hoped and prayed every chance he got that they would all live to reunite again in the flesh. Expressing that through the written word was proving to be impossible though. At this rate, he’d need a new notebook before long.
After the commoners executed their part in subjugating the noble population in the city, Koji moved here to the tower’s rooftop and away from all others. Now, isolated, he sat on the dilemma that had been dulling his mind, eating him from the inside for some time now: the question of his blood. If Uaya wasn’t his true mother, who was she? The fact had been injected like poison into his mind by the Empress. He worried about the tremulous state of the Republic and the uncertainty of its future, and the precarious state of Ira. The wellbeing of his old servants in the Takasa household would not leave his mind, Kisane and Asaya most of all.
Thankfully, Komohine surrendered before a single casualty could occur, to the detriment of Lord Choza’s bravado. In reality, none were willing to die after the toll the entire civil war had taken on them all.
And yet, when the outcome had still been unknown, Koji hadn’t become even a little anxious or hot-footed upon learning that he wasn’t required to join in. In fact, General Mune had ordered him to stay put as the common people took on the brunt of the work, and he’d been just fine with it.
Lethargy was a precursor to abandonment. Am I losing my resolve? Why was I so dispassionate about the task at hand, and why can I not enjoy the fruits of our victory now?
He was at an internal crossroad, one he’d arrived at since Ira had offered the three of them to Agriculture and one he had avoided ever since. For too long, Koji had busied himself by going through the motions. Sooner or later, he would have to choose. Would he fight?
Koji moved on to what might move his heart in a more positive manner. He flipped to the next page of his notebook. Below, the common citizenry went about the streets celebrating as eastern soldiers put them back in order and guarded both common and noble from any sort of retaliation. For the first time in this city, commoners and nobles were considered equals. Still, families would keep separated, likely not mingling for some years to come.
Mothers and fathers. What inspired mothers to select which father? What did mothers see in their husbands? An ability to protect greater than their own perhaps. Even at the cost of giving up their child, he thought. Koji set his pen back on paper, and thought the answer might come to him.
“Lust, the bane of all reason, and its sister love, hope of the downtrodden….”
He raised his head at the sound of approaching footsteps. Risako had traveled here from Saoka rather quickly, donning light Agriculture armor that only guarded her abdomen, shoulders, and the outward segments of her arms, legs and joints. Koji scratched at his leg through his robe.
“The seven great temples offer an even more beautiful view. Did you know the largest of them, the Waning Temple of Black Water, took twenty years to build? It’s the farthest north, where it’s so cold you can use your fingers as picks.”
Koji regarded her, unimpressed and wondering if he should be annoyed by her disruption of his thoughts. Try as he might, he couldn’t be. He enjoyed her company, and her unexpected arrival offered him another thing too.
“Once, a high lady fell to her death from its peak. Or rather, she committed suicide after threatening to jump if her husband admitted to having cheated on her with a certain rival lady she’d been at odds with for years. Well, she actually did jump when her husband admitted to it, not a care in the world for her ultimatum. Apparently though, it was only a lie, just so that he would no longer have to deal with a wife he considered an emotional bundle of chaos.”
“Empress’ soul, you must read through more obscure scrolls than my sister. Not that she gets a chance much these days.”
Risako weighed that in her head for a bit, tilting her head as long hair fell back from her straight nose. She accepted it as a compliment. “Never saw Aiya as the studious type, more like a stoic warrior. I guess they can be one in the same.”
“When you really get to know her, you’ll see. If there’s one thing she’s always had me beat in, it’s how fast she could flip through our clan’s storehouse of old scrolls and texts.”
“By the way, you can’t keep swearing by the Empress’ soul. She’s the one we’re here to kill, remember?”
Koji started to shrug, then nodded instead. “Old habits die hard. I’ll try to do better.”
“You’d better,” Risako said, then a rigidness formed in her body, an obvious tension. Something bothered her. She smiled. It was a kind one, one he could tell she only reserved for true comrades. “What are you writing?”
Koji closed his book quickly. “Nothing of note. Just up here thinking, that’s all.”
“Aiya told me you were a poet.”
Koji briefly grit his teeth in annoyance. She at least has time for spilling secrets, it seems. “But I’m not very good at it. I only try my hand at the warrior’s tale, sometimes I dabble into musical odes. Never tried romance or anything like that, of course. Wouldn’t know the first thing about it anyway.”
Strangely, Risako gave him a hopeful look that said she didn’t believe him. She saw right through his modesty. “Is that so?”
“Anyway, coincidence for you to show up. There’s something I’ve been wanting to see.” Koji’s face grew serious.
Risako frowned. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I wonder,” Koji continued, “about that night we all ran into each other. When you invaded our home. If things had been serious, who would have come on top?”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Koji. It would have been me.”
Koji stood.
Risako grew flustered. She drew her head back in surprise, averting her eyes, then focused back on him with hesitancy in her voice. “You really want to do this right now?”
Koji looked down over the celebrating citizenry forty feet below. “I have no choice.”
This feeling coursing through his body, he’d needed to shake it for a while now. His resolve was to be tested here and now. The perfect opportunity. Forgery’s civil war might have concluded barely a week ago, but he needed to test himself again.
Why, though? What compels me to question my own will in this fight? Perhaps he felt the same guilt as his sister over Johori’s death.
Wrong, it wasn’t guilt. Koji hadn’t been her brother’s keeper. His death frightened him in a way that left him grave, but not scarred. It was not Ira’s death, but sometimes he thought of Johori, and what could have been. Somehow, violence had made him and the Agriculture boy closer, though they had shared few conversations and intamacies. Perhaps it was the fact they fought for the same thing, for freedom, and Agriculture had shown Koji how to acquire it.
His death was a message, a sign that Koji could never slip up. Fail even once, and that was it. He would have to remain sharp enough to take on the Empress and whatever she might use to get into their heads, to secure not only the freedom of his siblings and his people, but to secure it for himself. He was fighting for himself too, just as much as for his siblings, for Agriculture, for all Erru across the continent. He did not fight solely for authority, even for a man like Tsugo. He would always fight for what was right.
Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
Koji locked eyes with Risako, notebook held to his side. Sentimentality could wait for later. “The night General Honji died, I told you that I was only looking out for my siblings in this fight. Whether we can bring revolution into fruition or not, my only concern was to see them both alive and well by the end of this. I told you that my full loyalty was for them alone. Part of that is no longer true. I stand firmly with the Republic. This is a chance for you to see the strength of my resolve.”
Risako nodded, and he could see that she suddenly understood. Without another moment’s hesitation, she stepped forward, her entire demeanor transformed. She changed stances, blinking to reveal eyes of brilliant green. As Koji gazed upon her expression, he felt chills run over him; drawing in her deity had granted her monstrous power that changed her into a killer. A scary sight indeed. He wouldn’t let his guard down, not even for the span of a breath.
He aligned himself with the river, disembodying himself and allowing his soul to bathe in the river. His deity brought cool comfort that assuaged all his fears of death, granted him feelings of strength and assuredness that most would never understand. Despite his reverence for his deity’s beauty, its soaking gentleness and invigorating power, he had never attempted to scribe this wonder into his notebook. The river was far too all-encompassing to even make the attempt.
A weak gust blew, tossing Risako’s hair over her left shoulder. Risako squinted her eyes, as if ready to call Koji’s bluff, then she attacked.
She sprinted straight, left fist poised straight for his nose. He stood his ground. She wouldn’t get within an inch of her target. Shifting his right foot on the wood tile, he honed in on her collarbone where he’d jab her as punishment for such a straightforward attack.
At the last second she spun, launching a kick across his right side. Koji stepped back, raising both arms to protect himself. Her gliding kick cut his reflexes short and connected with his right hand, which he only now realized still clasped his notebook. The sting of his hand was nothing compared to his horror as he watched it fly, at least fifty feet high into the air.
He retreated while cursing, the pain in his fingers signifying at least a few sprains. He’d gotten distracted by his stupid mistake and now Risako was pulling in close, taking his wrists hostage and planting a foot into his abdomen. He grunted, crossing his arms to break her hold of them and returning a kick of his own.
It didn’t land, because they were both falling over the ledge.
Koji watched the sky above him expand as his body rushed down the tower in midair. Risako was right above him, unperturbed and reaching for his left elbow. He gave it to her, then sent a backstabbing palm into her cheek as soon as she grabbed on. The fall was too quick to feel wind on the back of his head.
The ground came next. Koji skillfully twisted his body upon impact so that he caught himself on both hands and feet, rebounding like a startled frog and enduring the jolt of pain in his limbs.
Risako landed with less grace, rolling opposite from him with a loud smack on the cobble ground.
Something told Koji to look up as he fell into a defensive stance. As he did, he narrowly missed catching his falling notebook right above his head. He brought down his extended arm and examined it, complete relief coming over him. No creases or tears. Thank the heavens!
He caught Risako’s vengeful charge just in time too. She’d have him bested in hand-to-hand combat with his precious book in hand, and he wouldn’t risk tossing it aside to scuff against the rough stone. Instead, he reached into his robe and grabbed his pen.
As Risako closed in, her eyes flicked towards the open book propped at his side. Something in her face changed, and she faltered.
Koji jabbed the pen between her thigh and knee plates. She cried out and seized his hand–still gripping the pen– cupping it with both her own. He careened forward, headbutting Risako’s chin with the notebook now firmly cradled at his chest. She stumbled, creating time for him to shuffle back, putting ten paces between them.
Koji quickly checked again. No damage or missing pages. He breathed a sigh of relief. So close.
Finally coming out of fighting stance, Risako plucked the pen from above her knee. Blood like red ink flew like spittle from its tip. “Asshole.”
He couldn’t see the wound he’d inflicted through the black cloth under her armor, but he did notice a crowd had gathered to watch them. Koji, suddenly aware of his own heavy breaths, grinned half-hearted and nervously. “Now that is what I call a friendly sparring match!”
Can’t have them believing East Forgery is stumbling through a crisis of infighting.
A barefoot man missing more than half his teeth lifted his head, gaping from a curled position against the tower’s walls. A flock of noble women in fine silks and gold ornamented hair, still wary from the outbreak earlier in the day, watched uneasily from twenty paces away, looking ready to skitter away at the drop of his pen.
“And now that you’ve witnessed the power of those who protect you, you are free to carry on about your day! Go on now, there’s nothing more to see!”
Catching the hint, patrolling Jodai cleared away the still-gathering crowd with stern orders.
As they dispersed, Koji faced Risako again, whose hair had become a tangled mess. “You know, you’re just like you were in our first confrontation. Your fighting style is aggressive and sloppy. You rely too much on healing. That leaves you susceptible to attacks that are meant to disarm or immobilize, or any attack that isn’t fatal, really.”
Risako came and handed him the pen, all energy evaporated.
He studied her. “Something else I picked up. You’re clearly bothered by something. You going to tell me what’s wrong?”
She looked away. “Well, it’s, you know…since you write about this type of stuff, I think you are knowledgeable in that area, so–”
Koji cut her off. “What, I–. Empress’ soul, don’t tell me you were able to read a page of my open book midfight!” Koji relaxed himself. “Sorry. Actually, I really don’t think I’m the person to ask, but I guess many of my peers back in River would probably disagree. There’s this girl in my home province, her own poetry is an inspiration to me. A lot of things about her are. Her name is–wait, I’m supposed to be answering your question.”
An endeared smile touched Risako’s face. “Then, how do you let someone in without pushing them away?”
“Risako, I don’t get this right often either. Me and my siblings don’t always see eye to eye or, and we aren’t always transparent with each other. It’s wrong, and we only do it to protect one another. ‘It’s for Aiya’s own good’. ‘Ira doesn’t need to know.’ ‘Koji would just get mad, and then never trust me again’. That’s what I think goes through our heads sometimes. But when you love someone, I think you should consider them your other half. If you’re with a warrior like Hedi, then you should know he isn’t weak. Since he’s strong, you should trust him with whatever pain you’re carrying.”
Risako pondered on that, looking towards an aging sky of gold, the calmed city left weary from the feverishly long day. Satisfaction settled in her expression.
“Wow,” said Koji, “You’ve been preoccupied. Had your mind been clearer, maybe our scuffle would have gone in another direction.”
“I’m stronger, believe me,” she replied, and in her smile was renewed vigor.
“The two of you do make for good material though.” He tapped the side of his forehead with his left index finger. “By the way, you also abandoned your post in Saoka to observe changes in this city itself, right? There’s something else you came for besides my advice. I’m aware that you’re always taking mental notes and collecting information through both Agriculture and Forgery scribes and Jodai. You’re working harder than Lord Tsugo.”
“That’s an overstatement. But you’re right, I did come to observe Komohine’s aftermath. I like to know our exact progress. I get an exact count of imported materials, collect general estimates of ledgers from high-ranking nobles. I survey our Jodai to understand how they feel about transpiring events. I try to keep track of what commoners and nobles are saying too. I am working with my father on what the contents of our official treaty might contain, once the Republic is official. That is, once the Empress is no more and every province is left to its own diplomatic devices. I’m also recording the events that will lead up to it.”
“Interesting. Sounds like something we’re going to need.” Koji propped open his book.
Risako raised an eyebrow. “Is that all? Don’t pretend I didn’t see you struggling in thought.”
He promptly closed it. “You’re right. Now I get a personal question of my own. How do you fix someone?”
Risako squinted, confused.
Koji tried to find the right words, though he was terrible at asking for advice. “Dammit, I sound terrible for phrasing it that way. I shouldn’t be asking you.”
“Well, who is it?”
“Forgive me if I’m overstepping, but, how are you and Totane getting through it? How do you make sure someone isn’t permanently scarred by their misfortune or their circumstances?”
Risako sighed. “You don’t, because you don’t take it all up on yourself. You have to let others who are close to them heal them too.”
A brooding dread resided within Koji, residual from the time he’d spent with Ira. Gradually, almost magically, her words made his dread pass away. “Let others, huh? That’s good.” Ira, Kisane, Asaya. Just wait a little longer.
“Don’t forget it. Though, we should put this on hold for the rendezvous. It’s nearing twilight.”
“One more question,” Koji said, as he turned, beginning to stroll towards the city gates where eastern and Agriculture soldiers assembled for departure. “The amalgamation of events you’re recording, what are you going to call them?”
“Me? It’s something we should all decide. We’ll probably have it up for vote at some point. You, me, father, Sen, everyone. It will be an epic of how the Republic came to be, a story that deserves to be told so that following generations will learn and know its history. I believe our lives now compose a tale as old as time, and this will guide the future of the continent from repeating its past. Once it’s written, peace and freedom should last forever. At least, that’s the idea.”
“The Epic of Egaisha. Hmm, I’ll remember that as my idea. I’ve got an excellent memory for words, though it doesn’t help much in my Maton games with Ira.”
He flexed his fingers, which had started to grow stiff and swollen, wincing at the pain. With his fingers bruised, he'd be forced to take a break from poetry for the next couple days. Yeah, a name like that does have a nice sound to it.