Chapter Text
“Papa!”
Osvald turned instinctively. Hikari caught the haunted look on his face as the color drained from it. They all turned. They were still a ways from Winterbloom, deep in the Winterlands. But the girl that was running up to them didn't look as if she was from the area. No, she moved in a flurry of color, black and red, and threw herself into their group, an arrow striking home. But it wasn't Osvald to whom she crashed into, throwing her arms around them, face wet.
It was Partitio.
He stood there, all they stood there, in absolutely stunned silence as she clung to him.
In that quiet, he did not push her away, only gently setting his hands on her shoulders. “Now hang in there–” he started.
But the smirk that grew on Castti’s lips told Hikari that she had already found her hook to tease him.
“Partitio, you scoundrel!” She said with a laugh. “I know you were a Wild Stallion back home, but to think you've sown your oats all the way out this way…”
“What d’ya mean by that– Wait it ain't like that !”
She tutted at him, but even she had to see that it simply wasn't possible. The girl had to be almost sixteen, with sharp Hinoeuman features, dark eyes and hair.
”Sorry, kiddo, I think yer a mite mistaken,” he said as gently as he could, patting her shoulder. “Are ya lost or something?
She pulled away scrubbing at her eyes fitfully and taking a ragged breath. ”Oh-! I'm... I'm sorry.“
”Are you looking for your father?” Agnea asked, offering the girl a handkerchief.
”Uh, yeah. You just. You looked a lot like him, and I guess it all got away from me.“ She blew her nose, crunching the handkerchief between her hands.
The more and more Hikari observed her, the more and more he noticed. Dark hair, black as night and well cared for, plaited into two braids that were pinned to her hair in buns, decorated with ribbons. It was a child's hair style, one like a doting mother might do before her daughter was of marrying age. And her skin was fair for a person from Hinoeuma, not the tanned skin of a commoner, but with a smattering of freckles over her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. And over her simple black robe and pants, she wore a red surcoat, identifying her as a warrior as much as the sword strapped to her side did.
”What's yer name?” Partitio asked, leaning down just a little, face painted with concern.
“It's K—... Ruka. My name is Eruka.”
Her voice crackled with her youth, but she had started to misspeak. He hadn't imagined that. And from the looks on Throne and Temenos's faces, he hadn't been the only one.
“Eruka, huh,” Castti said, face calm. If she suspected anything, she did not show it. “Unfortunately, or fortunately for us rather, You're a bit too old to be Partitio's daughter. By blood at least.”
“Fortunately?“ Partitio asked in surprise.
”Otherwise, I fear that we'd be encountering no less than a dozen of the Wild Stallion's offspring in our travels.“
”Yer talkin' like I'm some sorta stud horse—“
Castti ignored him, turning back to Eruka. “Don't worry about him. How can we help you?”
In all the commotion, Ochette stood calmly by, occasionally sniffing the air around the girl, wearing a puzzled look. She did not speak, only observing just as Hikari was. Finally, she came to his side, pressing close to whisper to him.
”Hikarin, she smells... odd.“
”Odd how?“
”She smells kinda like you. Like that wood smell you wear.“
Sandalwood. It was the most common incense scent in Ku, so that didn't particularly surprise him, but it felt like another brick in the wall of evidence that all this was strange. But for now, he turned his attention back to the conversation before him.
”I am looking for my papa,” Eruka said, one hand on her sword. Her dark eyes cast over their ranks, keenly observing in her own way. “I'm sorry for startling you all like that. He also dresses in yellow, so I thought–”
“Do you know where he might be headed?” Temenos asked, stroking his chin.
“I know he's supposed to be on his way to Winterbloom.”
“Well I'll be damned, that's where we're headed!” Partitio replied. If the moment of impact had shaken him at all, he didn't show it, smiling brightly. “Ain't safe for a kiddo like yerself to be roaming alone.”
“Partitio is right. Why don't you stick with us until we get there. Safety in numbers and all,” Agnea added.
She seemed to ruminate on it for a moment, lips pursed, quiet. And while she thought, Hikari did, too. He hadn't stopped thinking. This was suspicious, wasn't it? He couldn't shake that feeling, a nagging, scrabbling at the back of his brain. Just who was this girl out on the roads alone looking for her father? She carried a sword. She wore the warrior’s red. She smelled of sandalwood. She had a lively and energetic demeanor, but her posture and stance told him that although she was young, she was a warrior in her own right.
It wasn't unlikely for refugees from war torn Hinoeuma to be far-flung, he supposed. Kazan was in Montwise, people from Sa had fled to Timberrain for work, others still dotted nearly every city they had visited. But something about this was different. It felt off . But Partitio's smile gave his suspicions pause. He was an excellent judge of character, his silver eyes easily finding the best in people. Perhaps, Hikari thought, he was worrying for nothing.
”Okay,“ she finally said with a nod. ”I won't get in the way, and I'll pull my own weight with the work.“
That was an attitude that Hikari liked, but for someone who was still just a child in so many ways, he thought ruefully on why she was forced to be that way at such a young age. But then again... wasn't he only a year or so older than she was now when he entered the army? When he had become a captain of his own squad through his own merits? It was too young for any child to become a weapon for their country, and yet in Ku, it was the expectation. It was another thing he'd change in the future, when he would end his clan's lust for war.
Without much further fanfare, they started back on the trail. From the back of the group, Hikari could not hear the words that Partitio and Eruka exchanged as they walked toward the front, but they were both smiling. A little ahead of him, Throne and Temenos also chatted, but for their own smiles, there was suspicion in their eyes. They had every reason for it. He did too. But for now, he'd try to stay those suspicions a little longer and see how things played out.
They made camp a few hours later in a small clearing, Ochette and Throne leaving camp to hunt while Partitio got the fire going, boiling some fresh water. It was as good a time as any for Hikari to talk to Eruka a little more himself, as she knelt by the fire, watching Partitio work the little bit of fire magic that he knew.
“It's so cool that you can do magic,” she said, eyes glittering in the blazing light.
“Ain't much. Mr. Osvald's a scholar and he can show ya how impressive magic can really be!” He stirred the embers with a long stick, poking and prodding the few branches they had as a starter. But they'd need more before long. ”'Kari, would ya mind goin' ta fetch some more wood? I can't rightly get dinner goin' with just this bit.“
”Not at all.”
“Can I come, too?” Eruka asked, stretching up to stand. There was a youthful vibrancy in her every move.
“Of course. Many hands make light work.”
“Be safe out there, ya two,“ Partitio beamed, and that smile needled at Hikari's heart once again.
With Eruka in tow, Hikari led the way down an old animal trail away from the clearing, holding branches aside as they walked, eyes watching for both bits of good firewood and shadows lingering in the forest. There were many animals, birds and squirrels and other tree dwelling creatures. Even a few deer, watching them as they ate in the fading light of day. That was a good sign. Those foreign to the forests who might stalk them rarely kept the creatures at peace, and moreover, large monsters also sent the smaller scattering in their wake. Although he would always remain attentive, this would likely be a quiet night.
“So where are you from?” he finally asked, stooping to begin gathering some branches of a fallen tree that had long dried.
“Hinoeuma,“ she said, kneeling with him.
”That much I can tell, but which is your homeland.“
”I cannot say with certainty, but given that my father found me in Ku, I would call it my homeland.“
Father and Papa . Were they one and the same and she merely changed how she spoke of him when the tone needed? That didn't seem right. Hikari had only ever called his own father two things. ”Your Majesty“ or ”Father“, and very rarely the latter while the man had lived. But he couldn't deny the possibility.
”So you were an orphan, then?“
”Yes.“
That was not uncommon in Ku, sadly. The ongoing wars, strife among the citizens, death and disease made for orphans everywhere. It had been that way for many years.
“You are from Ku, aren't you?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. For a moment, it felt as if there was an accusation there, but that feeling fizzled out.
“Yes. I am.”
She did not reply, nodding silently.
The weight of her gaze on him settled, but he felt no malice there. Even as he stood, arm full of wood for the fire, there was a gentleness in her eyes.
”You wear the warrior's red,“ he said, more as a statement than anything else. ”Have you trained for long?“
The words brought a brightness to her face, lighting up her eyes, “Yes! My Father trained me with both sword and spear. It was only just last year he allowed me to don the red of the warrior.”
“He must be very proud of you.“
”I really hope he is.“
And for just a second longer she stared at him, some expectation that he didn't know how to satisfy. Perhaps it was nothing more than his own mind playing tricks on him. It was gone in an instance as soon as her eyes shifted away from him.
”I'm certain that he is, Eruka. Even if he isn't very good at showing it.”
“Thank you,“ she smiled, settling the weight of her bundle of wood toward her hips.
Although it was several years before, Hikari could still remember the day he had been made captain. It had been no easy feat, and although strength of merit should have been the only determining factor in how a warrior rose through the ranks, there was no secret that nepotism and bribery ran rampant through the military. But for one such as himself, even the son of the king, shortcuts did not exist. He had to work for it, to show his soldiers and commanding officers that he was no weakling prince. And it worked. There had been no grand display of pride from the King either, not that hikari had expected such. He was not the crown prince. He was merely the son of a concubine.
But even in being captain, his life had not gotten any easier. No. Perhaps it had made the lives of others that much more difficult.
Hikari had spent his seventeenth birthday on the battlefield, the army of Sa pushing toward their front lines and only his battalion and a handful of others to hold firm their positions. It was bitterly cold at night in the desert, and their supplies had been dwindling for some time.
Perhaps not dwindling. Delayed. Denied. Whatever it was, it certainly felt as though he was being punished, that his troops were being punished, because of who he was. After all, Mugen was the general, and ultimately, signed off on all supply orders and troop placements. Hunger had gnawed at his belly in the cold night, but at least his men were able to eat, even if it was nothing more than the thinnest of rice porridges. The night before the battle, he gave the camp cook the last of his azuki beans and instructions to make porridge with those, to boost the troop's morale. Somehow, it had worked, and eyes that had looked at him in disdain for putting them in the position they were in, whether inadvertently or not, how softened. Their fight the next morning was a victory, even if only by the smallest of margins.
He could only hope this child hadn't had to deal with similar experiences.
There was an amiable silence between them as they walked back to camp, towing the evening's fire wood. By the time they returned, Throne and Ochette had returned from their hunt, a slew of freshly caught fish being cleaned and skewered. Partitio had his pot over the fire, water bubbling away, tossing in potatoes and carrots, chopping them with a quick and skilled hand. He lifted his eyes and smiled at them as they approached.
“Looks like ya got us set for the night, and then some!” He beamed. “Thanks.”
“It's nothing,“ Hikari replied.
”Many hands make light work,“ Eruka said with a smile.
”That's the kinda attitude I like ta see! Couldn'ta said it better myself!”
He'd said those exact words before, after all. But the sentiment was a common one, the phrase known by many.
Eruka leaned forward, hands on her knees as she watched the bubbling pot. She and Partitio continued to make small talk, chatting happily as Hikari disengaged and moved back to the treeline to the cool shade of a tree. There between some roots, he knelt, sitting upright and centering himself.
Hikari closed his eyes, listening absently to the chatter of his fellow travelers, letting thoughts briefly touch the space in his mind and then flow away, like water over a riverstone. One deep breath, and then another, all continuing at a slow, even pace. His heart fell in line. The darkness behind his eyelids was warm, comfortable, not the same as the darkness that dwelled deep in his heart, always at his ear with a devious whisper. But it was quiet now.
”Hey, Hikari,“ Partitio's voice pulled him back, and he slowly opened his eyes. ”Dinner's ready.“
”I'll be there in just a moment.“
And slowly he stood, joining the others in the circle of the firelight, exchanging words between bites of food. And one by one as they finished, his companions started to wind down for the night, setting up their bedrolls, and settling in to sleep. He had already agreed to take the first watch, switching with Ochette in the middle of the night in order to get a little sleep himself.
Partitio returned from washing their camp pot in the nearby creek and disposing of the fish guts away from camp where it might attract beasts. Eruka had gone with him, a light spring in her step as she carried the pot there and back.
Maybe it was nothing. There was nothing else it could have been, he thought to himself. She was just a child, even with the sword at her hip. She was just a child.
But even children were capable of violence. His own hands had been stained with blood before he was her age.
Hikari tried to shake that thought away, tried to dismiss it outright. He had no reason to be suspicious. It wasn't the whisper in his ear telling him these things, but it was the pit of his gut. But it was wrong.
”Here,“ he said as she approached the fire again. He handed her his own bedroll, which she hesitated a second before taking.
”Are you sure...?“
”Yes. Besides, I have first watch anyway, and the ground will suit me just fine for the remainder of the night.“
Her face scrunched up, dissatisfied.
“A child should have a bed.”
“You're only a little older than me.“ There was a defiant stubbornness to her voice.
“Five years is an immeasurable distance.”
“Of course you'd say that,” she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes, but she took the bedroll anyway. “Fine.”
It took nearly an hour for his companions to set up their bedrolls and actually lay down to sleep. Beside himself, Throne and Osvald were always the last two.
Throne paced the camp, eyes tilting everywhere, looking for any trace of danger. No words would ease her, but he supposed that was normal for the life that she had led, so he never questioned it, never tried to talk her out of it. If it made her sleep come a fraction easier, he had no right to interfere. Osvald read, and wrote sometimes, scribbling cryptic symbols in his notebook that he kept tucked away in his shirt, safe from prying eyes. Sometimes he would do this for hours, pouring over information that Hikari couldn’t understand. He did not know if this gave him any measure of comfort, or if this was something that Osvald had always done, long before his life had been ripped away from him in a blaze, much as Hikari’s had. But finally, everyone settled, even Eruka, curled tightly in the bedroll she had seemed to regard with such disdain, face peaceful, deeply sleeping. Everyone, save himself and Partitio.
The crackle of the fire, the whistling of the wind over the hills, through the sparse smattering of trees, the call of night birds all felt quiet in the smoldering blue black of the dark. But it wasn't uncomfortable. Lately, these quiet moments they shared at the fire were strangely comfortable, even for the uneasy roil of his innards that only seemed to grow in the moments they spent alone. Their little fireside talks had become something of a common occurrence, but Hikari never complained. No matter where their conversations led, he always felt better afterward, always felt a little lighter, a little more hopeful.
“Seems like a good kid,” Partitio said, stirring the ashes of the fire with a long stick.
“A bit stubborn, but with a gentleness.”
“Hm, just ‘bout like every kid at sixteen.”
“I'd say so,” Hikari chuckled.
Partitio gaze fell on him, those silver eyes cast orange in the fire’s light. He smiled gently.
“It's nice to hear ya laugh, ya know.”
Blood bloomed in his cheeks, the warm fluttering his chest growing. “I know I am humorless at times.”
“Nah, I don't think it's that.”
“Oh?”
“I think… I think that sometimes ya don't let yerself be happy. Like ya owe it ta someone to hold all that inside.”
And perhaps he did. Should he have been having a good time traveling the road, looking for allies, for friends, when his quest was such a dire one? Should he have the opportunity to laugh and make merry when that possibility had been ripped away from his people? But sometimes, especially around Partitio, it felt hard to not feel a measure of levity.
“I do.”
“I don't think yer people would agree.”
“No one can speak for them.”
“Maybe so, but I know they cared ‘bout ya. No one who cares for another person wants them to bear the burden of pain forever.”
In their time traveling together, so many truths had been laid before him in that twanging country drawl. For being only a few years older than himself, Partitio carried a lot of wisdom with him, perhaps a product of his upbringing, perhaps a product of his own suffering. But he always spoke those truths gently.
When he could find no words to reply, Partitio filled the silence again with the warmth of his voice.
“Just somethin’ ya think ‘bout. I know ya already do a lot of that anyway.”
“I cannot help that. My mind… has always been a noisy place.”
“‘Cause of ‘it’?”
“No, even though it does not help. Even before he first spoke to me, it always felt like chaos.”
“Well, sometimes it helps ta talk ‘bout it, lettin’ those thoughts go. Ya got my ear if ya ever need someone ta listen.”
Of all the things Hikari could have said in that moment, every one felt stopped up in his throat, in the back of his mouth, held back by his heavy and useless tongue. Partitio waited, patient, quiet, not dismissing his silence as avoidance. It took him a few moments to parse together anything appropriate to say with the words at his disposal, but it certainly didn’t feel like enough.
“Thank you. I will keep that in mind.”
Another moment of quiet hung between them, punctuated only by a drawn out yawn from Partitio.
“You should get to sleep,” Hikari said.
“Ya gonna be alright by yerself?”
Of course, with the sword at Hikari’s side, with his experience, Partitio didn’t mean against whatever monsters might lurk beyond the circle of firelight. No, there was more danger at home in Hikari’s bones, shadowed behind his heart, than in all the forest in Solisitia.
“I will be fine. Please rest.”
Partitio stood, one hand coming down to pat Hikari on the shoulder, another talley in a slew of casual affection that Partitio foisted onto everyone. It wasn’t unwelcome, but Hikari knew that his feelings about it might be. And how maybe, in another time and another place, he could hope for more. But not now. Not with everything that lay before them. There was too much danger yet on his own path, and any feelings he might carry made Partitio as target. Not now, he told his clamoring heart, trying not to look up into Partitio’s bright eyes, his face growing all the warmer from his failing effort. The hand on his shoulder gave him a gentle squeeze, perhaps in comfort, perhaps in silent understanding.
“G’night, ‘Kari. See ya in the mornin’.”
“Good night, Partitio. Pleasant dreams.”
“Thankee kindly.”
And he was given one more flash of that brilliant smile before Partitio crawled into his waiting bedroll, leaving his hat and coat beside him. Before long, he was snoring softly, a sound that often pierced the silence of the night, more comfortable than the howling quiet that lingered in his ears when there was nothing else.
Hikari took up prodding the fire, turning the ash, rotating logs and embers to keep it even and low. It was going to be a long night. But weren’t they all?