Namida no Megami

PART TWO: KYAKU



"In what distant deeps or skies

Burnt the fire of thine eyes?

On what wings dare he aspire?

What the hand dare seize the fire?"

-William Blake, "The Tyger"

"A bell rings on the hour and everybody zigzags

into the streets with their books."

-Billy Meyer, "Schoolsville"




On the road to Shikotu, Momoirio spied the mark…

"What's that?" He asked. The small pony he was riding halted abruptly, and he slid forward in the saddle.

She wheeled her mare about halfway and peered over her shoulder. "What?"

"No, on your face."

Eyebrows lifting lightly, she scrubbed at her face with one gloved wrist. "Breakfast?"

"No, on your forehead."

Her eyes darkened. "Nothing."

No, really, what is it?"

"…I do not know…"

~*~

Since the Reckoning, the Church had become the central figure in all towns and villages across Kiroku. In the centres of cities, buildings and houses had been torn down, relocated, and converted into soaring cathedrals of glass and stone.

It is law that each settlement contains at least one church. The larger the populace of that place, the more churches it was expected to provide. Ankoku held four. In the Centre of the Dento-teki faith, no one had ever been able to accurately calculate the exact number of churches. It was like counting the petals around a flower-vendors stall.

In order for a traveler to pass out of the mountains, he must travel southeast to the main road. All roads in Kiroku lead to the oceans, except one. The Black Road leads to the Red City of Shikotu.

The city was nearly constructed entirely of glass.

Majestic spires of rose-coloured glass rose, seemingly from the earth, out of the deep crater that fortified the city. The glittering buildings reflected well the ruddy cliffs of the long-dormant volcanoes, giving the otherwise drab stone city its namesake. In the rear of the city, to the East, the single gentle slope of the crater was dotted with long, low structures carved of a dark ebony wood. This was the ancient village of the Anrakushi.

The stone slid over the blade, scraping. Scraping. Scraping.

She sighed.

"What is it?" He asked softly, not looking up from the leather he was braiding.

"Something is wrong. …I feel it on the winds."

"Have you written to the Princeling of it?"

"Not yet. It sleeps. Slumbers. It is dark and painful where it is."

"What is it?"

"I cannot see it clearly. Something black and cold and full of light… I go to the city myself today."

"Is that wise?"

She threw the blade. It flew past him, splitting the doorway beside his cheek. A thin strand of dark indigo hair fluttered to his sleeve as a thin line of crimson appeared on his cheek. He did not flinch.

"Yes. Yes, I believe it may be…"

~*~

On the western side of the crater, the Red Gate split the smooth red stone like a jagged stripe of rouge on a whore's mouth. It was high, and heavily guarded. The gate was barred.

"Speak your business!" A guard demanded. Momoirio's pony balked at the echo, and she had to lean across the distance between them to snatch his reigns.

"We are here to make a delivery." She called back.

"Your name?"

"I am called the Lady of the Winds."

The guard started visibly, even from this angle, and vanished from their line of sight.

Minutes passed.

"What are they doing?" Momoirio asked.

"Quiet. While we are in the city, do not speak unless I bid you. These are a dangerous sort, and you have a loose tongue."

"I do not!"

"Priestling, when one travels alongside the Lady of the Winds, one's survival may depend on one's silence."

The guard chose to reappear at that moment. "You, who are called the Lady of the Winds… You and your companion may enter."

With a great rumbling that frightened the pony badly, the Red Gate began to rise…

~*~

The comb fell through glossy locks of raven hair. The young man sat perfectly still, as the two thin braids near his face were twisted back and tired with a dark red ribbon.

The servant boy combed two thick locks of hair over his shoulders, and set down the silver brush. Carefully, he lifted the light circuit of amber-coloured metal in both gloved hands, and placed it lightly on his master's head.

With a careless wave, the Princeling dismissed the boy.

At great length, he acknowledged the scarred man kneeling by the door.

"Stand, Rekishi… The Lady of the Winds is arrived. She brings the Child of the Sea."

Rekishi's gray eyes widened in spite of themselves.

"She claims to have retrieved her prize. As she carries the boy, I am inclined to believe her."

"…Will you pay her?"

"Yes."

The Princeling moved to stand on the balcony. Rekishi could not help but follow his progress with his eyes. There was something very nearly sinful about the way the young icon's hips slid sensually beneath his thin white robes.

"Do you know why she is called the Lady of the Winds?"

"No, my Lord."

"They say she is as swift as thought, with a blade that was forged in the Kingdom of Heavan… They say she has never fallen in battle… Some say she cannot bleed…"

"And why contract such a creature? And why a woman, of all things?"

"She is the best. With Damasu gone, she is the very best… And that is why I would like very much for you now to kill her."

~*~

"Why do they call you the Lady of the Wind?" Momoirio asked.

"…It is a name, like any other." She replied vaguely. She was scratching at her forehead. Her head ached.

They had been guided to the centre of the square, into the Grand Cathedral itself. Once inside, the young mage had led them into a small antechamber at the base of the north tower, and they had been left alone.

Momoirio sat on the low couch, playing with a small crystal globe he had found on the black ebony end table. Tsumihoraboshi stood, back to the window, facing the door.

"Why are we here?"

"I told you not to speak."

"There's no one here." He said, sounding annoyed.

"The windows have eyes. The walls have ears."

He glanced around, confused. "No, they don't…"

The door opened.

The warrior spun to face the door, left hand falling reflexively to her sheathed blade.

"The Lady of the Winds, and the Child of the Sea…"

Momoirio stood abruptly. "Rekishi?!"

The paperweight hit the floor, rolling until it met his leg. He put one booted foot out to stop it.

He smiled. It was awkward, pulling at the faint scars on his face harshly, and revealing his far-too perfect teeth. "Momoirio. I had hoped that our paths would cross once more."

"…But… What are you doing here?!"

"Serving our Lord. That was the sacred duty I was prepared for. I am Magus to the Dento-teki."

"…such a great honour…" Momoirio whispered.

Tsumihoraboshi cleared her throat.

The man called Rekishi ran a hand through his gelled aqua hair. "Forgive me, Lady. I have misplaced my breeding." He bowed deeply. She could just make out another scar near the part in his hair.

"Am I to do business with you, then?"

"My Lord trusts that you have not returned empty handed?"

She reached into her belt pouch, and withdrew the small piece of green felt. Momoirio felt like a fool, jaw dropping as the pieces of their journey fell into place. When she unwrapped it, the green jewel glimmered brightly, seeming to add an odd swirl of light to the room. It was the Hoseki.

"My fee." She said, simply.

"…Yes, of course." He said, removing a scroll from his red cloak.

Momoirio was staring at them, mouth still open. "…You stole…" He looked at Tsumi, and then to Rekishi, and back again. "…The crystal… for… them?" He turned his misery-filled gaze directly on the man clad in the red armor.

"Oh, Rekishi… You betrayed us… For them?"

"One day, Momoirio, you may understand. I did not do it for them. I am them."

"The scroll." Tsumihoraboshi snapped.

Rekishi tossed it to her. She unrolled it, and examined it. "Ah." Returning the jewel to the cloth wrap, she placed the scroll into her pouch. Then, she tossed her bundle to him.

He caught it carefully, and opened it himself. "Hoseki…" He breathed. "…Five…"

"Five?!" Momoirio cried. "You know of the others?!"

The warrior swept past him, grabbing his arm. "Our business is concluded. We will now take our leave."

"…I am afraid that there is one small thing I must attend to first, Lady…" Rekishi said softly, pocketing the stone.

When he spat at her, his voice twisted into the same language that she had heard Momoirio use in the Shrine, and again in the tavern. She rolled to the side just as a bolt of scarlet flame shot past her.

He snarled and shouted again, but Momoirio's own cry drowned him out, and the flame shattered into ashes.

Rekishi froze, as though in shock. Tiny embers of his spell lay between them on the floor. He lifted one hand to the large scar on his cheek and stared at him. "…you… You would side with her?!"

"Return the Hoseki, Rekishi. Return it, and let us go."

"You cannot match my magic, priestling. No one can."

Momoirio stared at the floor, where the last traces of the dispelled fire were dying. "There is… one spell…" He held his left hand sideways before his face, and folded his right hand around it, cupping it slightly. "…Do not make me…" He begged quietly.

"You are too young! You have not the skill!"

"Do you truly believe that Father Toshibi would be foolish enough to leave the Child of the Sea unprepared?!"

Rekishi considered this, at a loss.

Suddenly, Tsumihoraboshi slammed into him, knocking him down. Springing up, she latched onto Momoirio's arm. Rekishi snarled and clawed his way to his feet, only to trip over the crystal paperweight Momoirio had dropped earlier, and fall again.

"Tsumi, the Hoseki!!" He cried.

"Run! Now!"

~*~

They reached the square as the great bell in the South Tower began to toll.

"The Hour of Prayer" She snarled. He could not tell if she was pleased or angry by this development.

From every tower in sight, people began to pour into the cobblestone streets. They filed into the Great Sqare, filling it, and surrounding its side streets. From their robes and tunics they withdrew small metal-covered books.

Opening them as one, they began to chant together.

Bless'ed is the Voice of Sky

Bless'ed is His Holy Flame

Bless'ed is the Voice on High

Bless'ed is His Holy Name

Tsumihoraboshi dragged Momoirio into the crowds, as Rekishi and a host of mages appeared in the Cathedral door.

Bless'ed is the Lord of Glass

Bless'ed is His Living Son

Bless'ed be His Time until the

Bless'ed Fire Requiem

Tsumihoraboshi froze.

Across the plaza stood a woman.

Her long, pale black hair whipped free in the breeze. Her clothing was the scarlet of the Church, though she wore bits of leather over her body suit, wrapped like ribbon around her legs and hips, and she wore a short black cloak. At her back was strapped a broadsword.

And on her forehead, she bore a mark.

"SHE."

Momoirio looked behind them. Rekishi and his men were forcing their way towards them through the crowd.

"Down low! Run!" A voice cried.

Bless'ed be Thy Locks that Bind

Bless'ed be the Name of the Rose

May the Circle go Unbroken

May Tsuyake Save our Souls

Suddenly, Momoirio felt no ground beneath his feet. Crying out, he fell…

Ahamhn.

~*~

"…ouch…" He muttered.

Tsumihoraboshi dropped down, catlike, on all fours to land beside him. Above them, the thin square of light vanished.

There were several metallic scraping sounds on the wall beside him, and suddenly, a white light appeared. He saw hands, and a cloak, and a large, gauze-wrapped shape. Something tickled his face as the light passed.

"Come on," The voice just beyond the light commanded. "It won't take them long to suess out where we've gone to…"

Momoirio looked to Tsumihoraboshi, who nodded, barely visible in the dim light. They followed the light down the narrow pass, just above a rushing underground river. He stumbled and she tripped over him, resorting to guiding him by the arm and along the wall. They continued to follow the light. She kept one hand on her blade…