Namida no Megami

PROEM: NAI SUKETCHI NI SHAKUDO


The torch spluttered, and fizzled out, leaving the passageway in inky darkness.

"Damn it..."She hissed.

The warrior made her way blindly down the stone hallway, trailing one gloved hand over the wall to her right. She was too tall for this narrow passage, and the resulting slump was beginning to grieve her neck a little. She was glad she had left her cloak bundled on her horse outside, and come in dressed only in her close-fitting leather cuirass over her tunic and leggings.

Above her, a door slammed with a muffled thud. She froze, and listened carefully. After a moment, she continued on, the thick hide of her boots whispering almost silently over the wet cobblestone floor. Her left hand rested lightly on the hilt of her sheathed sword.

Finally, the wall at her right began to slope down, into the floor. She stopped, knowing she had reached the end of the tunnel.

Mold and moss covered the ancient ladder, and she tested it gingerly, surprised to discover it seemed relatively solid. Hoisting herself up, she hooked a leg around the wooden rungs for balance as she pushed hard on the heavy ring of wood just over her head. Squinting as dim light filtered into the tunnel, she carefully checked the room before sliding the ring across the floor. She waited a few minutes, to see if the resulting scraping noise would alert anyone to her presence. When no one came, she crawled out, rather ungracefully hauling herself over the edge to fall beside the rotting wooden lid.

This passageway was even lower than the tunnel, and crowded with an assortment of bottles in wooden racks, and vegetables drying in corners. The wine cellar. Brushing a tendril of white-gold hair out of her eyes, she consulted the tiny map she had been given.

Somewhere, a bell tolled the hour. All of the monks would be asleep in their beds, safely out of her way. Still, her fingers clenched the hilt of her blade...

~*~

Following the passage out into the kitchens, and then, down a narrow, paneled hall, she eventually found herself outside of what the map referred to as the Archives. Carefully, she pushed open the heavy wooden door. Foolish monks... They don't even know to lock their doors...

The Archives, she realised, must only be scholar-speak for 'library'. Maneuvering around two large bookcases, she made her way to the center of the room. There, against the wall, stood two glass cases, and a raised dais. At it's apex was a smaller sealed, glass box. The box glowed, though no light was fixed upon it.

When she had reached the tiny shrine, the room was washed in yellow light...

Falling back into a crouch, she whirled, hand gripping her sword hilt. Half hiding behind another bookcase stood a boy, no older than sixteen or so. He held a torch in his right hand, and, in the other, a struck match. The torchlight played across his pale face and long, rose-colored hair. He wore the green cloak of a monk, but was obviously much too young to have completed his training.

"Who are you?" He whispered, finally. His voice was soft, sibilant, with the slightly accented vowels indigenous of the mountain peoples. "What are you doing here?"

He held the torch awkwardly between them, nearly brandishing it at her. She realized he was staring at her sheathed blade.

"Go back to bed, little boy." She said, coldly, turning her back to him.

After dismissing him, she removed a small knife from her boot, and used it to cut the top of the box away. On a bed of green fabric lay a beautiful, multi-facetted jewel. It was round, with several small spikes surrounding it, of a deep green colour. In the center, two shapes, both the colour of dried blood overlapped to form a seal.

"You mustn't touch that!!" The boy cried, shouldering his way between the warrior and the box.

In seconds, she had drawn her sword, and let it rest lightly against his collarbone. "Stand aside." She ordered. He didn't move. After a long moment, she snarled, and threw him aside with her free hand. Letting her sword fall against her thigh, she tore a corner of the green fabric away. Quickly, but very carefully, she wrapped the crystal in the cloth, and shoved it into her belt pouch. She blinked a little as the light in the room lessened drastically.

"...You're... You..." The boy scrambled to his feet, shocked. "That's sacred!!"

"Dento-teki do not hold stones to be sacred." She said, simply, tightening the drawstring on her leather pouch.

"We're not Dento-teki!" He snapped. Then, he clamped a hand over his mouth, stammering. "I mean... we... ah..."

"Move."

Once again, he held his ground, this time grabbing the nearest bookcase for support as she tried to throw him again. Snarling, she pointed her blade at him. "Move, or I will kill you."

"Where are you taking it?" He demanded.

"To my client."

"Put it back." He said, firmly. Lightly, she traced his throat with the blade. He swallowed hard. "Put it back, now. Please."

"Or you will do what, little boy?" She asked, nearly amused.

"Or I'll scream." He said quietly.

"What?"

"Father Toshibi, the leader here... His cell is right on the other side of that wall... He'll raise the alarm. Think about it. You can't fight off seventy-five grown priests with only a sword... And though we value life, I am quite certain you will forfeit yours if you touch me."

She struck him on the shoulder with the flat side of her blade. As skin tore open, he cried out and stumbled to his knees, clutching at the wound.

As she passed him, he struggled up, whispering something in an unfamiliar tongue. Then, he screamed.

It was high-pitched, crystalline, and earsplitting in its volume. And he smiled at her, almost smugly. "I warned you..."

She stared at him, rage boiling low in her skin. She reached for him, fully intending to kill him, when someone threw open the door.

"Father Toshibi!!" The boy cried, trying to duck around her. "She's stealing the Hoseki!!"

"Saaaaaa..." She snarled, and grabbed the boy by his ponytail...

~*~

The warrior sloshed through the water-filled stone tunnel, dragging the boy beside her. Two monks were following slowly, unable to keep up in the dark. They had not yet attacked, obviously believing her threat to kill the boy. However, they seemed determined to stop her from taking either him, or the crystal.

Finally, they came to the end of the tunnel. Shoving the boy into the grass, she slammed shut the heavy door, and bolted it. Upon her whistle, a large roan mare appeared. "Get on the horse." She ordered sharply.

He turned to gaze at the monastery with mournful eyes,

"Get on the horse!" She shouted, punching him in his already injured arm.

Uncertainly, he carefully climbed up, onto the mare's back. She swung up easily behind him, shifting him forward in the saddle. Reaching around him, she snatched the reins.

He cried out as the mare rocketed forward, and clung to the horse's mane. Only then did she realise how much his shoulder was bleeding.

"...where are you taking me...?" He murmured weakly.

She glanced down. "To Ankoku." He sighed, and buried his face in the horse's mane. "What's your name, boy?" She asked, attempting to soften her tone slightly.

"...Momoirio..." He breathed, sounding sleepy.

"Momoirio." She repeated. Her head ached.

The mare raced towards the rising sun...