The grounds of Master Okan’s dwelling were just as overgrown and ratty as Akihato remembered. It hadn’t been more than a couple of years since he’d visited his former teacher, but for some reason, he always expected the place to look different, even though it never did. It had been a long day’s travel. First, he had walked from the tower to a nearby village and from there rented transportation to the river town of Gosaiji, where he took a ferry downstream to a monastery that acted as a cover for Okan’s school.
His parents had sent him here, hoping he would learn discipline and self-control. Little did they know their son had the power of sorcery and that he would learn much more, not under the careful instruction of a monk, but an Onzara that was himself a legend. They had expected him to return a changed young man, ready and able to begin the process of taking over his father’s holdings. Instead, he had surprised them by announcing his status as a Zosara.
At first, they had thought he’d lost his mind, and then, when he had proven his power just as he had with the Warlord’s lieutenant, they’d realized he was someone to be feared. He had not seen them since. They had not disowned him but rather chose to tell everyone he had decided to become a monk. Akihato retained his title, and they promised if he ever desired his inheritance, they would not stand in his way. He had rejected it on principle. As a Zosara, he had his own way of obtaining wealth, and it was not by taxing lowly peasants into poverty.
Shaking his head, he knocked briskly on the door.
It only took a moment or two before the door swung open. A small child, no more than six or eight, was there to greet him, looking dirty and rumpled, as though he’d been playing in the forest. The green eyes and tug of soft magic told Akihato this young child was to be a future student, which, judging by the smudges of dirt on his cheeks and the twigs in his unruly brown hair, he guessed him to be wood attuned.
“Greetings,” he said, softening his voice, “I am Lord Akihato. I have come to speak with Master Okan.”
The little boy didn’t get a chance to answer. An older man called out to him with a croaky, gruff voice, “Well, who is it, boy? Let them in, and then it’s off to the bathhouse with you!”
The child scrunched his face up at the mention of a bath but obeyed despite his obvious desire not to. Opening the door wide, he gave Akihato a hurried bow and then rushed off toward the monastery proper.
Akihato’s smirk faded when he heard approaching footsteps. He shifted his gaze back to the house, just in time to see a familiar, wizened face appear in the doorway. Nothing about Okan had changed. His hair was still the purest white, and his blind left eye a milky blue. Deep lines wrinkled his face, some from frowning, but most were laugh lines.
“Ahh, Akihato!” The old Zosara gave him a toothy grin as he moved outside. His steps were far more sprightly than one might have guessed by looking at him. Though the one change Akihato did take note of was that his gate was just a little stiffer than he remembered from his youth. “It’s been a while.” Okan brushed at his overgrown mustache. “What brings you to see me?”
Bowing respectfully, Akihato took a step out of the way, allowing Okan to determine where their discussion would take place. The old master led him toward the garden, which was the only part of the exterior he bothered having tended. The young lord knew well Okan’s study was hidden in the gardens, disguised as an old shed. All of the students, monk and Zosara alike, knew better than to venture anywhere near it unless Okan gave explicit instructions to be met there.
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“I must have rehearsed the answer a million times on my way here,” Akihato finally began when they reached the garden. “But now I’m not entirely sure where to begin.”
Okan raised a wizened, shaggy eyebrow at him. The look made him feel every bit like an apprentice again, and he had to fight an urge to squirm underneath his master’s scrutiny. “Nothing is ever that complicated, boy.”
Knowing when he had been rebuked, Akihato simply accepted it with a humble bow of his head. “Certainly, Master,” he answered, then took a deep breath and started from the beginning. “Master Yimuji asked me to perform a few tests on the Rotted Wood. He has been attempting to restore it, as I’m sure you know, and his research led him to believe that—“
“Yes, yes.” He waved him to silence. “I’m well aware of Yimuji’s restoration efforts. Every other word out of his mouth is conservation this or preservation that...” Grumbling about his colleague completed the image of a cranky old man, which caused Akihato to grin faintly.
“You find that amusing?” Nothing slipped by Okan.
“Not at all, Master.” Akihato’s grin widened ever so slightly.
Shaking his head, Okan directed them to one of the benches nearby and settled himself upon it, his old bones creaking like a hundred-year-old oak tree in a storm. “Are you going to tell me what brought you all the way back here or not?”
“Well, I was attempting to,” the younger man teased lightly, sitting down next to him and flashing that same grin, “but someone interrupted me...”
Okan shifted, turning his whole upper body to gaze sternly at his former apprentice. His bushy eyebrows were raised, and the glint in his eye spoke a warning that, as a teenager, would have cowed Akihato instantly into submission. Now that he had regained himself, however, he did not feel quite so much like a headstrong adolescent. He stood his ground, holding his playful expression until the old man finally relented, letting out a low chuckle and shaking his head.
“Fine, fine.” He settled back into a comfortable position. “I’ll keep my yammer shut.”
Smirk sliding away, Akihato’s thoughts returned to Hanamei and the reason he had sought out his former master. “While I was there, I stumbled upon a young girl. Rather, she stumbled into me. I had felt magic nearby and gone to investigate when she dashed out of the woods and collapsed in front of me... She’s barely seventeen, but I sense tremendous power within her.”
“Have you tested her?” Okan appeared very interested. “What is her attunement?”
Purposefully sidestepping the answers to those questions, Akihato let out a sigh. “She was running from Warlord Tzulan. From what she has told me, and what I have gathered from a few witnesses, she used her magic against him.” He quickly explained what further details he knew, watching his former master’s face carefully as he absorbed the words.
When he was finished, Okan took a long moment to answer. Finally, he shifted his gaze to the younger man. “Strange burns, huh? So she is attuned to fire.”
“Not... exactly.” Akihato held Okan’s scrutinizing stare. “I tested her. The results were... abnormal. The stones did not respond to her touch, not until—“
“If they didn’t react, then she’s not a Zosara. Whatever she did was not with mag—“
Interrupting in kind, Akihato swiftly finished his explanation. “No, Master Okan. I thought that perhaps her attunement was simply weak, despite what I sensed. So I gave her a chaos stone, hoping to amplify her magic...” He paused, having no idea what sort of reaction to expect. “It reacted as though she were attuned to it. The glow was blinding. There was no mistake. While holding the stone, the others came alive, all of them.”
Okan said nothing. He looked away from Akihato, his eyes staring out at the foliage across the path from them. Waiting for just a moment to see if he had something to say, Akihato pressed on when it became apparent he didn’t.
“I have searched all of my books and found nothing, not a single article or passage explaining chaos attunement. The only source I found mentioned someone called Mujona. Mujona the Forgotten.” He took a deep breath. “But the entry was rather cryptic... Who would do that, Master? And why?” He wanted to ask more, to say more, but he forced himself to stop and wait for some sort of reaction. Okan was being too quiet, and it was making Akihato nervous.
The old man finally moved after what felt like a lifetime later. Okan heaved a heavy, weary sigh and then rose from the bench. “Come with me,” was all he said.