Chapter Text
Conjunction (in astronomy): A phenomenon where two astronomical objects appear to closely approach each other in the sky when observed from another location.
Chapter 1: The Fool
The blinding summer sun beat down upon the dusty ground despite the early hour; a feeble breeze doing little more than swirling dirt into eddies so thick that they left a chalky residue on Shinichi’s tongue. The quiet was equally oppressive. Any sensible creature would have sought shelter in such weather. He shifted his sweat-slicked grip on the hilt of his sword as he stared at his opponent. They were motionless, sword in a ready stance. Filth and sweat turned their plain tan aketon and chausses several shades darker, though Shinichi knew his own were no better. Their eyes met, each gauging the other for a long moment.
Quick as a snake, they struck.
Shinichi parried their weapon easily, the impact shattering the quiet like glass. His opponent moved with him, their sword flowing into another strike. Another parry, but this one swept into a rising cut. Each side gave no quarter as their blows traded back and forth in a deadly dance. Shinichi’s eyes narrowed against the stinging sweat running down from his brow as he searched for an opening. There! Wind whispered across his face as he dodged the blade mere inches from his nose. Then he swung, aiming for the moment he knew they’d shift to his left.
Only a lightning-quick guard prevented the blade from meeting their neck. It took only a moment for him to shift his weight to bear down on them with his superior mass. Shinichi couldn’t help the tiny smirk that lifted the corner of his mouth as their arms began to shake from the strain. They huffed, annoyance sharpening their eyes, as his smirk quickly widened into a grin.
“Do you yield?” he murmured as he bent his head down towards those pink lips—dry and dust-smeared but beautiful all the same.
And then, their grip shifted.
Unexpectedly, he slid off their blade, staggering slightly to the side at the sudden twist. And then the heel of their boot slammed into his gut, sending all the air whooshing out of him as he fell flat on his back in the dirt. He only had a moment to blink stupidly up at the cloudless sky before metal pressed insistently underneath his chin.
“Yield.”
Instantly, he let go of the hilt of his sword and brought his open hands up in front of him. Chagrin lay sour on his tongue, but he was easily able to push it aside in favor of pride. “I yield.” The blade withdrew before a grimy, callused hand extended in its place. He grasped it and rose to his feet, only to bend over as his stomach throbbed in protest. “Ugh,” he groaned. “You kick like a horse. Did Makoto teach you that?”
Ran smiled brightly at him. “He said that I learn quickly. Before long, I might even be able to accompany him to compete in tournaments in Oscartha.”
“I don’t doubt it. It was a good hit,” he laughed as he gingerly straightened up. But his gut was not the only thing that twinged. Oscartha was far to the east, and the journey alone would take months. It could be years before he saw her again. He turned away and walked over to the water barrel in the corner of the training grounds. Quickly, he removed the lid, drew a cup of tepid water from it, and promptly dumped it over his own head. It brought blissful relief as it ran over his overheated skin, sloughing off at least a small bit of the filth that coated every inch of him. It also seemed to take the heat in his head with it, and he slowly expelled the panic from his lungs before he turned back to Ran, pasting a grin on his face as he pushed his soaked hair back. “Perhaps I’ll delay my errantry until then so that I may accompany you.”
She sighed as she approached. “I think your father would have an apoplexy if you delayed it yet again.” He said nothing, as this was a well-worn subject between them, and merely offered her the cup. As she reached out to take it, their fingers brushed. Her calluses scratched softly across his skin, and it was like a bolt of lightning straight to his gut. Involuntarily, Shinichi’s eyes almost fluttered closed to savor the sensation, but he couldn’t bear to lose sight of her. He took a deep breath and caught her hand before she could turn away.
“Ran,” he murmured, his smile softening into something fond as he reached up to sweep back the sweaty strands of dark hair that had escaped from the braid around her crown. Crimson bloomed across her face, tracing the path his fingers took as they caressed her cheek. “Have you–”
Someone cleared their throat behind them.
They jumped apart as if burned, Shinichi silently praying to the gods that his ears weren’t as red as they felt, before he turned to face the intruder.
His adjutant, Wataru Takagi, stood at the entrance to the training grounds. The poor man was sweating profusely in a dark blue linen doublet with the lilies and wheat of the Kudou family emblazoned on his right breast. He placed his fist over his heart and bowed quickly. "My apologies, my lord, but the duchess has given strict orders that you are not to be together with your betrothed without a chaperone."
Shinichi sighed, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. It wasn't Takagi's fault. Technically, his mother wasn't even wrong. Noble society was not yet so open-minded as to do more than grudgingly accept the scant few female knights there were, much less relax their ridiculous standards of propriety. The merest whisper of scandal could forever ruin a woman’s image. Still, anyone who dared question Ran's reputation would soon find themselves staring down the point of her sword. She had earned her knighthood as much as any man had, and no amount of puffed-up nobles could take that away from her.
It was vexing. Two full years of knighthood, and yet they were still being treated like irresponsible children. He tugged harshly on the leather strap of his vambrace before directing his attention back to Takagi. "Thank you. Is there anything else?"
He perked up, almost like a puppy receiving praise. "Ah... yes, actually. A letter has arrived for you." With that, he stepped forward and revealed the envelope in his left hand.
Shinichi frowned. Was someone requesting his services again? He reached out to take it, heedless of his dripping fingers, but then Ran lightly tapped his shoulder as she quickly twirled her finger in the air. He instantly halted at the familiar gesture. Suddenly, the water dripping off him coalesced into a tiny ball and, with a flick of her finger, flew away to splash on the ground on the far side of the training grounds. He’d lost count of how many times she’d done this for him after a hard training session. Shinichi sent her a quick smile, smothering the flicker of envy with the ease of long practice, before accepting the letter.
To Lord Shinichi Kudou, Earl of Asterna
One glance at the familiar handwriting and he could already feel the warning throb of a headache on the horizon. What did she want now? Resigned, he flipped the envelope over. On the back was a seal of red wax stamped with a swallow mid-flight. The seal of the Second Princess of Solaria. He broke it and pulled out the paper. As expected, the letter was quite short, only bidding him to go to the palace to have tea with her at two o'clock. The gods only knew what she was scheming now, to summon him like this.
Ran glanced up at his face as the paper wrinkled slightly in his grip. "What did she say?"
Shinichi pursed his lips before stuffing the letter back into the envelope. "I am to have tea with her." He sighed again as Takagi smiled sympathetically. The princess’s eccentricities were the frequent cause of his woes ever since she, Ran, and Shinichi became playmates when they were children. Takagi had been a page back then, timid in the face of his lord’s son, but time had lent an easy familiarity to their relationship. It also helped that he’d witnessed a young Shinichi, completely plastered in mud, chase after a gleefully shrieking princess. More than once. Shinichi shook the memories from his head and held the letter back out to him. "Please send a response back to accept and thank her for the invitation. Now, I really need to wash up."
An hour later, freshly bathed and dressed in a velvet chaperon, linen shirt, and fine blue silk doublet and hose, he was alone outside the stables. But even the familiar scent of hay and horse did little to soothe his frayed nerves. He'd dismissed the stable-boy, longing for a few quiet moments to attend to his horse, Peony, himself. The chestnut mare had been a handsome gift from his father upon his knighting. Since then, she'd been a faithful, if slightly spoiled, warhorse and companion.
The wooden door to the building creaked open with a slight push, and a half-dozen horse heads stuck out over the ties of their stalls, ears pricked at his intrusion. Shinichi walked through the aisle, his lips lifting into a small smile as they stretched their necks out to snuffle at his clothes. He knew each of them thoroughly: name, temperament, quirks, favorite snacks, best spots to scratch. He’d even helped foal some of them. Practically his whole childhood had alternated between his studies in his father's lab, his knightly training, and the stables back in his family’s castle. Peony flicked her ears and whickered softly at his approach as he pulled a small apple out of his belt pouch. He cut it in half with his belt knife and then held it out flat on his palm. "Here you go, girl," he murmured. She daintily lipped it out of his hand, and he stroked her white blaze as she crunched on the treat.
Then, he moved to the wooden bin of grooming tools and pulled out a curry comb. Normally he would linger over the task until Peony's coat gleamed gold in the sun, but there wasn't enough time for that. The princess would be quite cross with him if he was late, though she really should have given him more notice. Once finished, he put the comb away and checked her feet for stones, then put her blanket and saddle on. The routine of tacking her up smoothed over the raw spots in his heart, and he could feel his worries ebbing away. At least for now. After double-checking that the saddle girth was secure, he slipped her bridle over her head, undid the stall tie, and led her out of the stable.
Ran was waiting for him outside. She’d cleaned herself up and now wore a lightly embroidered red dress with a wide belt and voluminous sleeves, with a simple veil thrown over her damp hair. Shinichi’s mouth went dry as his gaze trailed up the fabric, lingering on the tantalizing curves that the dress alternately flattered and hinted at. He tore his eyes away after what was probably too long, going by the teasing smile on Ran’s face. His ears burned as he cleared his throat and fiddled with the reins in his hands.
“Your mother will be unhappy that we’re alone again,” Ran murmured as she approached. Peony extended her neck and gave Ran a few perfunctory sniffs before submitting eagerly to Ran’s skillful fingers. The spot on the side of her neck had always been one of her favorite places to be scratched.
Shinichi scoffed at the reminder. “She needn’t worry. Peony can be our chaperone.”
Ran barked a surprised laugh before she covered her mouth. At the sound, his face split into a grin, which grew even wider as her shoulders shook with the force of her repressed giggles. It was a shame he couldn’t hear her laugh freely. Propriety be damned, he wanted to pull her hand away and drink those delightful sounds from her lips. But he could only watch as she redoubled her energy into lavishing affection on Peony. Her eyes went half-lidded as started to lean ever so slightly into Ran’s hands.
Desire shot through him like a bolt of lightning, and the leather reins creaked as Shinichi’s fist clenched involuntarily around them. By the gods, he wished she would touch him like that. He forced down a half-crazed laugh. He must be going mad to feel jealous of his horse.
It felt like an eternity before Ran stepped back with a regretful sigh.
“I need to return home. Mother wishes to speak to me about Father. Again.” She pursed her lips, her brow becoming positively thunderous at the thought. Shinichi winced. There wasn’t a noble in the land who hadn’t heard the gossip about Lord and Lady Mouri and their legendary rows. Ran disliked speaking about it in great detail, but his mother thrived on such drama, so he was more well-informed than most. A survival skill, his mother called it, for the sharks circling at court. Much like his father, he was content to let her spend her energy on such pursuits. It made her less inclined to constantly meddle in his personal affairs.
He offered his hand to Ran. “Would you like an escort?”
She smiled as she slipped her hand into his. “No need. I sent a message to my estate, and Ser Masumi is coming. You should go quickly, before it’s too late.”
“Then I shall see you tomorrow.” He bent over her hand and pressed a kiss to her skin. It was tempting to linger, but he forced himself to pull away. Ran smiled softly at him, a touch of regret at the corner of her mouth. As Shinichi watched, she turned and walked away until the front door of the manor closed softly behind her. Quickly, he turned back to Peony and pulled himself into the saddle. With a nudge of his heels, she started walking.
When they reached the gate, Takagi was waiting for them astride his own horse, Rowan, wearing the full livery of House Kudou: a white shield crested with a howling wolf and bearing crossed golden wheat stalks and a pair of blue iris flowers. The two guards at the gate hurriedly bowed before straightening again. Shinichi nodded at them before turning to Takagi.
“Let’s go,” he said. Takagi inclined his head as the guards opened the gate in the high stone wall surrounding the manor.
Shinichi took a deep breath, his headache threatening once again. He bent over Peony’s neck and murmured, "Come on, girl, let's go," into her ear as he pressed his heels into her side. She quickly broke into a trot as they left the walls of the manor for the crowded streets of the capital city, Lumina.
It wasn’t long before a thunderous scowl set upon his face. It was truly a slog to get through the crowded streets. Even though it was only the day before the Solstice Festival, the population of the city seemed to have doubled overnight. Everywhere he looked, merchants were already hawking their wares to eager crowds, their stalls constricting already narrow streets even more. Colorful banners hung from every available surface, frequently interspersed with stylized suns or the scarlet flag of Solaria. The golden oak tree sparkled as the flags flapped in the mild breeze.
A large stage had been set up on one corner of the city square and two musicians were serenading the crowd with lute and harp. Their voices could still be heard soaring above the notes even through the clamor of the throng surrounding them. His heart flew with them, even letting a smile break through his perpetual grimace. Normally, he would have stopped to listen. He had a fine appreciation of music, and his own skill with the lira was not small, though only his tutor, Ran, and his parents had ever heard him play.
A loud cheer went up from across the square; a wave that pounded his head like a drum. His mood quickly soured, his scowl darkening once again as Peony delicately picked her way through the masses. Takagi followed closely behind on his own horse, his hand never far away from the hilt of his sword as he kept a watchful eye out for trouble. Shinichi cursed the princess under his breath. She had picked a damned inconvenient day to summon him. What was even so important that it couldn't wait until after the festival?
The crowds finally started to thin out as the high stone walls surrounding the palace came into view. He breathed a silent sigh of relief as the weight of the crowd fell from his shoulders. Ever since he was a child, he'd been sensitive to the presence of other people. Something inside him felt like a knotted rope pulled impossibly tight. Those he knew well could soothe the ache constantly gnawing at his bones. But right now, it was like a ravenous beast trying to eat him whole. No physician, scholar, or magician had been able to find the cause. He'd learned to bear that burden silently, but it never seemed to grow easier.
Two guards in chain mail stood on either side of the palace gate, their red tabards proudly bearing the golden oak tree. They thumped the butts of their halberds into the ground as he drew Peony to a halt.
"Please state your business, my lord."
Takagi pulled the princess’s letter out of his belt pouch and handed it to him. "I have an audience with Her Highness, the Second Princess." When the guard approached him to take it, he also displayed the signet ring on his left pinky. Engraved on it was his personal crest: an iris laid over top of a sword.
After a brief moment, they bowed and waved him through.
Inside the gate, a large courtyard spread out in front of him with a web of gleaming white stone paths. Lightposts were evenly spaced along them, though their enchanted glass globes weren't lit during the daytime. The widest central path, lined with jewel-toned flower beds and myrtle trees, lead to the palace entrance. Immediately, Shinichi took one of the smaller side paths that led to the stables. He dismounted and gave Peony a few pats as one of the stableboys came to take her reins. She snuffled inquisitively at his cap for a moment before allowing the boy to take her away.
Normally, Shinichi would go straight inside the palace. But, as this was almost certainly a personal invitation, he knew exactly where the princess would be.
He followed one of the smaller paths around the perimeter of the palace until he reached a vine-covered arch with a small metal gate set in it. It already stood open, beckoning him inside to the gazebo in the distance. As he stepped in, the heady perfume of hundreds of flowers assaulted him. Rose bushes, flowering in every imaginable color, stood in neat circles around the structure. He made his way through them, finally stopping next to it. A woman wearing a golden net caul over her hair and a powder-blue crushed velvet dress sat at a small ornate metal table as she slowly sipped her tea. Another plate and cup sat across from her next to a tray of richly decorated desserts.
He bowed. "I greet Her Highness, Princess Sonoko."
The sapphires set into her caul twinkled at him as Sonoko turned to face him. She smiled over the rim of her gilded teacup and gestured expansively at the other seat. "Please, sit. I asked the cook to make some lemon tarts, so I hope you enjoy them."
Formalities over, he sat in the offered chair and took one of the tarts. It was a cheerful yellow, with a delicate pastry crust and three raspberries spaced evenly around the edges. He might not have much of a taste for desserts, but even he could admit that the cook had done well. He took out his belt knife and methodically cut the tart into bite-sized pieces as a servant silently appeared from the back of the garden and poured tea for him.
Shinichi picked up his cup and inhaled, savoring the sharp tang of mint drifting from it while Sonoko’s stare seared into his face. He smiled blandly at her and then took a long sip. Perhaps needling her was not the wisest of choices, but he was admittedly a petty man.
As soon as the servant left, her impatience clearly got the better of her. She set her cup down with a sharp clink and steepled her fingers. "When are you going to finally get your act together and marry Ran?"
He choked on the drink he'd just taken. She'd done that on purpose, going by the smug curve of her mouth at his ensuing coughing fit. This was hardly the first time she'd asked him that, though she was rarely so direct about it. When he was done, he wiped his mouth and crossed his arms. "Was this really necessary? I've told you before that I need to complete my errantry first."
She waved her hand dismissively, her mouth set in a mulish line. "What nonsense. Be a man and ask my father for his blessing. In fact," she grinned, slapping her hands down on the table as she leaned forward. "Why don't you do it at the Founding Celebration? There will be so many witnesses. He would never deny you."
Shinichi grimaced. "I don't want Ran’s name bandied about by every busybody in the kingdom. She deserves better than that." And truly, she did. Their relationship was nobody’s business but their own. But even if that weren’t true, the idea of being amidst a large crowd and trying to make any kind of romantic gesture while wound tighter than an arbalest was positively nauseating.
She eyed him for a long moment, clearly weighing her words, before leaning forward and speaking in a hush. "Is this about your lack of magic? You know her family doesn't care about that."
A muscle jumped in Shinichi's jaw as his spine went rigid. "With all due respect, Your Highness, that is none of your business," he ground out. Perhaps his anger was unwarranted since that was the story his family told the public. Everyone had magic: some minor command over one of the four fundamental elements and perhaps even small spells if they were truly talented. He was a curiosity to be studied and gossiped about, but not much else.
If only the truth was so simple as a lack of magic.
Instead, a burr of yawning nothingness inside shredded him piece by piece; its tendrils piercing out into his bones and blood. It was truly a sore spot, fundamental proof that something was dreadfully wrong with him. What had he done that the gods would curse him so? It was something he had thought about for a not inconsiderable length of time. And no matter what he did, this curse continued to eat at him. Perhaps it would for the rest of his life. If he married Ran, what would happen to her? Many a time, he’d woken up drenched in sweat from a vision of it breaking free of his skin to devour everyone around him. At the thought, his hands fisted into the fabric of his doublet, knuckles turning white from the strain. Losing her was unconscionable. Thus, they maintained this delicate dance, never advancing or retreating, so long as the ground remained stable.
Sonoko sighed, her face falling as she sat back in her chair. "I apologize for the offense. I just want my friends to be happy and wed those they love. Many aren't so lucky as to be able to choose." She toyed with her cup for a moment as Shinichi forcefully exhaled through his nose and unclenched his hands.
He forced a smile onto his face with the ease of long practice. "I accept your apology."
She flashed him a tremulous smile and started to pick at her own tart. A long silence stretched between them, punctuated only with the click of metal against porcelain, before she spoke again. "My sister is to be married off to the king of Vorona."
He flew up from his chair, sending it clattering to the ground. "What? How can he do that? She's the Crown–"
Sonoko slammed her hand down on the table, rattling the cups in their saucers, as a thunderous scowl blackened her face. "That repulsive carrion-eater is threatening war if we don't," she spat. "As if we don't already have enough problems with bandits and plague. He knows we can't afford any more calamities."
Shinichi slowly picked the chair up and sat back down in it. Why force a marriage now? Why not just conquer Solaria outright? His hand went to his chin as he pondered this. Was Vorona overstretched in their current campaigns or was something else going on? He'd certainly heard the rumors of plague circulating in small villages in the countryside, so perhaps Vorona had as well and was trying to avoid it. Why not just wait, then? Was the timing important? He frowned as he picked up and discarded each idea in turn. In the end, he didn't have enough facts to come to any sort of conclusion. It was a fatal mistake to theorize before having information, as his father always said.
Sonoko started furiously cutting her tart apart. "He's using it to get a claim to the throne, I just know it." She vehemently speared each piece with her knife before picking it off and popping it in her mouth, grinning viciously as she chewed. Shinichi bit back a snort. Undoubtedly she was imagining the face of that king in place of her hapless dessert.
He casually leaned on the arm of his chair, a teasing smirk lifting one side of his mouth. "Don't let Makoto see you like that."
Sonoko huffed dismissively. "Of course he has. We wouldn't be courting otherwise." Her knife stopped midway to the next piece of tart, a shadow falling over her face. "I don't know if my father will still allow our marriage. If I am to take my sister's place as Crown Princess, we’ll need new alliances, and Makoto’s reputation in Oscartha may not be enough to secure them.”
Shinichi opened his mouth, then paused as a familiar sensation tugged at his core. Someone else was nearby. He closed his eyes and reached out, past Sonoko’s vibrant golden flame. The iron-clad shape of their soul was familiar. Battle. The tang of steel upon his tongue. An honorable core suffused with golden sparks.
He smiled as he opened his eyes once more. It was Makoto. Undoubtedly he was hidden nearby, fulfilling his responsibilities as Sonoko’s bodyguard while still giving them the illusion of privacy.
Carefully, he pitched his voice louder so that Makoto could hear him. "There are other ways to forge alliances than by marriage. You should speak to your father. Perhaps he will still listen to reason. After all, Makoto has proven himself a worthy suitor, has he not?"
Her face brightened as a slight blush darkened her cheeks. Several years ago, Makoto saved her from some ruffians who had tried to kidnap her. He had only been passing through, but Sonoko was so enamored with him that she immediately appointed him as her personal bodyguard. And in turn, he quickly fell in love with her charms. It was a love story worthy of the bards, though Shinichi would never say as much to her face lest she become insufferable about it.
"Sometimes, even you manage to display some shreds of wisdom," she groused, though her words had no bite to them.
Shinichi hid a smile at her grudging praise. "I endeavor to serve." He affected a bow with every single ounce of sarcasm he could muster.
She scowled, a playful glint back in her eye as she flapped a hand at him. "Finish your tea and leave. I have to speak to my father."
It was good to see her back in high spirits. "As my princess commands," he murmured.
---
The day of the Solstice Festival dawned, already muggy and scorching hot. Shinichi shaded his eyes with one hand as he squinted at the jewel-bright cloudless sky. He was dressed down today, in a short pale blue linen robe belted at the waist with a felt cap on his head, in an effort to not attract attention at the festival. After all, he'd promised to accompany Ran. He hadn't been waiting long near her family's townhouse when she appeared, in a white veil and simple pale green linen dress. Her beauty shone even more in such simple clothes. She could have been wearing a flour sack, for all he cared.
"Good morning, Shinichi." Her smile was so bright that it outshone the sun. He knew he was grinning like a besotted fool, but he couldn't care less. The love he felt overflowed from his heart, even temporarily slaking the thirst of the shadows that lurked inside.
He doffed his hat and sank into a theatrical bow. His etiquette tutor would be so proud. As he rose, he swept his hand towards the road. "The day awaits, my lady." When Ran passed by him, one of her fingers surreptitiously brushed his hand. The delicate touch sent a jolt straight to his core, all the more thrilling since they were in public. Shinichi took a deep breath as he willed his racing heart to slow. Then another, fortifying himself against the coming onslaught. And then they were off to the festival.
If the streets had seemed crowded yesterday, they were absolutely packed today. Street performers stood on every corner, small islands in the middle of the stream. Musicians were as numerous as river pebbles, often accompanied by cheers or jeers according to their skill. As Ran stopped to examine some ornate metalwork at a jewelry stall, Shinichi saw a flash of light out of the corner of his eye. There, a dozen yards away, was a woman weaving ribbons of fire into intricate animals. As he watched, she created a lion, then a unicorn. Each one moved as if alive as they gamboled through the air above their delighted audience. Finally, a dragon took shape under her hands. It took off, flapping its tiny wings as it circled above the crowd. Gasps and cheers rang out as it breathed its own puff of fire down at them. When it vanished, the spellshaper bowed to raucous applause from the crowd. Shinichi could not help the jealousy that clawed at his cursed heart. A gentle hand brushed his arm, and he looked up to meet Ran's sympathetic gaze.
"Let's go somewhere else," she murmured.
They walked off towards the main square, which had been cleared of most of the crowds in preparation for dancing. But currently, a large group of children was excitedly gathered around an older man who was reading aloud out of a book as he sat on the rim of the fountain, clearly hanging on to his every word. Shinichi couldn't help the wide grin that broke out onto his face.
It was one of his old tutors, Hiroshi Agasa.
"Come on, let's go listen," he said, hardly even waiting for her amused smile before he led her along to the back of the group.
"...And with a bang," some of the kids jumped at his sudden shout, "the knight blocked the fatal strike aimed at the dragon's heart! He turned to his lord, and finally saw that the cruel and cowardly count was not worth his loyalty. With a single strike," and here he sliced the air with the hand that wasn't holding the book, "he ended that cur's life. Then, the dragon looked at him, not understanding why he'd saved her. 'You were only protecting your family. Anyone would have done the same,' he replied. And so the knight bent down and removed his armor. He offered himself up to the dragon, as fair recompense for having hunted her children."
Several children gasped, their eyes huge as Agasa paused dramatically. He smiled underneath his bushy white mustache and beard before continuing. "But the dragon was tired of killing, and she turned away. When the knight would not leave, she snarled at him and snapped her teeth. It did not faze him. Then, she roared and breathed fire above his head. When that did not work, she ignored him. But as days passed, there he stayed. Until finally, she asked what he wanted.” He put his fist to his heart, his expression gravely serious. “The knight said, 'My honor and life are yours. Do with them what you will.'" He paused and looked at his audience. "And what would you do, if you were her?"
"Eat him!" crowed a large boy in the back as he excitedly elbowed the freckled boy next to him. A round of cheers and giggles went up from the children.
"My, what a bloodthirsty crowd," Agasa chuckled, before he continued. "And so the dragon did not eat him, but bade him serve her as he had his previous lord. Eventually, they became friends and had many adventures of their own." He smiled and closed the book in his hands. "But that's a story for another time."
The children groaned in unison. "Come on, Master Agasa, just one more? Please?" begged a little girl.
"Another one? But I've already told so many. Surely you're getting bored of an old man's stories by now?" There was a particular twinkle in his eye that Shinichi recognized. That was a line that he had used many times before, even when he was his tutor. Predictably, the children broke out into a chorus of protests, until Agasa finally smiled indulgently. "Very well, but just one more. I wouldn't want your parents to think I'd stolen you away, like one of the faeries, after all. Which one would you like to hear?"
They started shouting out requests, their voices overlapping in their excitement.
"The knight and the dragon! I want to hear about their adventures!"
"Tell us about the princess of the faeries!"
Finally, the freckled boy in the back spoke up. "What about the first Magician?”
Agasa's eyes widened. He stroked his beard for a moment in contemplation as the children hushed, sensing something more profound than his usual fare. "The first Magician, the one who defied fate. That is a story I haven't told in years. Are you sure?"
They nodded.
Agasa didn't open his book again, his eyes going distant as he sat quietly. Even Shinichi held his breath in anticipation. Agasa had told him many stories as a boy, but he'd never heard this one.
After a long moment, he began the tale.
---
Long ago, magic was much more plentiful than it was now. Dragons, both benevolent and tyrannical, nested in the mountains. Faeries danced in the woods, and their bell-like laughter could be heard when the wind was right. Even the land displayed magic at every turn, where a lake could transform an unwary traveler or the earth could swallow them without a trace.
All these things were magic, but the humans had none. They were denied the bounty of the land, and they had no defenses if creatures saw them as prey. And so, they died in droves.
In one of the last human settlements, there lived a young woman. And she had seen something no one else had. When she kept vigil at her dying parents' bedsides, she had glimpsed someone outside their window.
It was the End of All Things. A Knight astride a Pale Horse.
She was exceptionally clever and hid herself well as she waited for the Knight to show up once more. And then, ever so carefully, she followed Him.
He led her through moor and plain, over hill and dale. The sun and moon rose and fell in an endless cycle until they had no meaning, yet still she walked until her feet were raw and blistered. She could not give up, for any hesitation meant death.
Finally, they reached the edge of the wood, where a great river lay. The border of the domain of the gods. It was here that the Knight stopped. Without turning around, He spoke with a deep, booming voice, like the beat of a war-drum.
"Why have you come?"
She stepped out from her hiding place. "I have come for something only the gods can grant."
"Oh? And what is that?"
"Life."
He turned the Horse around to face her. "You are quite brave, for a mortal, to ask me such a thing." He cocked His head. "And why should I grant your request?"
She smiled. "Is it not boring?"
She could not see His face underneath the helmet, but the frown was audible in His voice. "What is?"
"Humanity. We die so easily, and for what? To eke out a meager existence before the world crushes us like insects. We could be so much more if given the chance."
He considered this for a long moment. "And what will you give me in return?"
She touched her chest. "My life."
He scoffed and shook His head. "A paltry sum."
"Ah, but it isn't. Think of the potential. My children, and their children's children. All of the fate they could have had, bound up with it."
He was silent, long enough that she began to grow nervous. She walked to the edge of the river and gazed down into the crystal-clear waters. The Sun and the Moon both watched her, reflected on the surface, waiting with baited breath for the Knight to make His decision.
Finally, He replied. "Very well."
She turned, a wide grin on her face. "We have a deal?"
"Yes, I accept your terms." He reached out towards her with His armored hand.
She could feel His heat, burning like a brand, creeping into something inside her. "Come and claim it, then." And with that, she tipped backwards into the river. As the waters carried her away, she heard the Knight's furious roar. Hoofbeats kept pace with her for a long time, but eventually stopped, for there were places even He could not go.
She came to a stop as the river curved, gently depositing her on the grassy bank. Above her, the Moon shone in the sky, full and bright. She sat up, unknowing as to which of the gods' realms she had crossed into.
And then, she saw the Tree.
A mighty Willow, overlooking the shores of a lake. A sense of peace fell upon her, for this was the god she was searching for. Slowly, she approached It and laid her hand upon Its trunk. The branches slowly shifted, though there was no breeze, but It made no move to reject her gentle touch.
She pressed her forehead to the bark and whispered her plea for the sake of humanity.
Behind her, she heard a sharp crack.
She turned to see a large branch, about as long as she was tall, fall to the ground.
"Is that for me?" she whispered.
The Tree did not speak, though a hum rang through her very bones. She went to the branch and took it in hand. Instantly, a rushing force unlike any she had ever known lanced through to her very soul. It burned, like the scorching heat of a thousand suns, until she was a hollowed out shell filled to bursting. She gasped and choked on it as it clawed at the very fabric of her being, but she gripped the branch and gritted her teeth. She had come this far, she refused to give up now.
It was like trying to ride a wildcat, snarling and spitting as it tried to tear her to pieces. But ever so slowly, it gentled in her hands. When it had finally settled down, her legs wobbled like a newborn foal, forcing her to prop herself up with the branch.
She clung to it as she bowed to the Tree. "Thank you," she whispered. The hum came again, and this time she could sense a meaning.
Use it wisely.
"I will."
She looked to the river, but it was gone: replaced with an endless field of flowers in every imaginable color. Instead, she could now feel a different magic contained in the lake. The Moon shone invitingly on the surface of the water, and she closed her eyes as she stepped in.
When she opened her eyes again, she was on the shores of the river, right where she had fallen.
The Knight was waiting for her.
"What have you done?!" He snarled.
She smiled up at Him. "You cannot touch me now. I will bring Life to my people. No longer will we fear the dark."
He glared balefully at her. "So be it. Then know this: you, your children, your children's children, and all of their descendants shall never be rid of me, until the time that they willingly surrender themselves mind, body, and soul to Death."
And with that, the Knight was gone.
She returned to her home, carrying the branch of the Tree of Life, and dipped it into the village well. Anyone who drank of the waters gained the gift of magic, and thus the village flourished and grew. The woman married a good man who loved her and they had many children.
But as her children grew up and her husband grew old, she did not age a day past when she had set out all those years ago. She withdrew from them, but continued to watch over her family and the village that slowly became a mighty kingdom.
And after that, when all who had known her had long been dust in their graves, she went to a hill overlooking the kingdom. Slowly, she turned her face up into the sunlight and closed her eyes for the last time. The next day, there was a mighty oak tree where none had stood before.
And around the tree spread a ring of fresh green growth with countless flowers as the magic returned back to the land from whence it came.
---
The children were silent as he finished, an awed hush descending over them. Agasa smiled, regaining his jovial air. "Now, who can tell me why the oak tree is important today?" Hesitantly, a young girl raised her hand. "Yes, Ayumi?"
"It's on that flag," she said, pointing at one of the nearby Solarian banners, the golden oak standing out brilliantly against the red background.
"That's correct! It has been adopted as the symbol of our country." His voice dropped to a stage whisper, "But let me tell you a secret. Many kingdoms rose and fell over the years since that story was recorded, so, at best, Solaria only has a tenuous relationship with the myth."
"Huh? Why would they do that?" asked the large boy as he quizzically scratched his head.
Agasa sighed. "I'm afraid there's no easy answer, Genta. The history of such things isn't often recorded. Stories can go a long way towards making or breaking the reputations of both people and kingdoms, but, unfortunately, we'll never know for sure. Now," he clapped his hands together, "I'm afraid that it's time for you to go back to your parents. Go, enjoy the festival!" He got up from the fountain, shooing them off amid their groans and chatter. Only the freckled boy remained.
"Master Agasa, thank you for the story," he murmured as he ducked his head in a quick bow, before trotting off after the rest of the children.
Agasa watched him leave, a smile crinkling his eyes as Shinichi and Ran walked up to him. "Mitsuhiko's a good lad," he said, as he turned back to them. "He certainly has a thirst for learning. In fact, he reminds me of you when you were a boy, Shinichi."
He smiled fondly at the memory. Too many times to count, he'd raided his father's library and eagerly devoured books of every subject. It made him a nightmare for his tutors as they struggled to keep up with him. Truly, it was a blessing that Agasa had a seemingly endless supply of stories that weren't in any books. "It's good to see you again, Master Agasa," he said, giving a short bow.
He chuckled and returned the gesture. "The pleasure is mine. And you too, my lady. It has been too long." He turned to Ran and bowed again before picking his book up from the edge of the fountain.
"What was that last story you told? I've never heard it before," she said. Shinichi could see how her eyes still sparkled with enthusiasm. And in truth, he was equally eager to know. Stories of the Knight being thwarted or tricked were all too rare.
"It was told to me many years ago by a passing traveler. She said it was a tale that had long been handed down in her Order, though that was a bit odd. She didn't seem like a religious woman." He frowned slightly as he pondered this for a moment before brushing it aside. "Anyway, I've captured it in my new book of legends. Why don't you take a look?" He offered the book in his hand to Ran.
She took it, running her hands over the pentacle embossed on the brown leather cover for a moment. "It's beautiful," she murmured, before opening it. Shinichi looked over her shoulder at the printed letters, crisp and easy to read even in the dense text. It was as neat as if it had been copied by the most careful scribes.
Shinichi studied it for a moment longer as Ran flipped through the pages. "Is this off your printing press?"
"Yes!" Agasa beamed. "It's working wonderfully! No unfortunate explosions yet, so I believe I can call it a complete success. I'll build another press and then start printing books in larger quantities. It'll be a big job, but Mitsuhiko's father already approached me about taking the boy on as my apprentice."
He smiled. "I’m glad to hear it." And truly, it was a relief, as Agasa seemed determined to work himself into an early grave. It was long past time that he got an assistant to help him with his inventions. "But in the meantime, we should leave so that you can enjoy the festival yourself."
Ran looked up, regret etched in the lines of her mouth as she reluctantly shut the book and held it back out to Agasa. "Thank you. It’s a wonderful book."
He put his hand up to stop her. "Please, consider it a gift. I'm always happy to see my books go to those who will appreciate them."
Her face brightened again as she clutched it to her chest. “Thank you very much! I will treasure it.” Shinichi smiled fondly at her eagerness. She had hung on to Agasa’s stories as much as he had when they were children, and while she did not share his enthusiasm for his father’s studies, she was equally appreciative of his family’s library.
With a quick bow, Agasa left. They watched him go for a moment as Ran absently traced the design on the cover before tucking it into her satchel. "Shall we continue exploring?"
He smiled at her and nodded. "Yes."
They dove back out into the crowds. Shinichi paid a handful of copper stellares for a pair of chicken skewers, and they happily munched on them while wandering along the streets. They stopped at a number of stalls to examine their wares, purchasing a few small items like colorful sea shells or whetstones that could fit into their pouches. At one point, Shinichi bought a white rose from a flower stand and tucked it behind Ran's ear. His heart warmed at her adorable blush as the woman running the stand looked upon them indulgently.
After that, they joined the back of a large crowd in front of a stage, where a group of actors were performing a play. It didn't take very long before Shinichi recognized it. The Eagle and the Maiden. An adaptation of an old myth about an Eagle falling in love with a girl and stealing a piece of the Sun as a gift for her. Typical Solstice fare, and one he'd seen many times before. The skill of the players was exceptional, but Shinichi's attention was quickly caught by Ran's expressions. She was enraptured, laughing and crying along with the players, and he could do naught but stare.
How much longer would he be able to look at her like this? If she went east and he could not follow...
He startled as the audience erupted in applause around them, inadvertently bumping into her shoulder. She turned to look at him, her eyes widening as she searched his face for a long moment. "What's the matter?"
Shinichi cursed himself internally as he schooled his face back into a soft smile. The gods only knew what kind of expression he had just then. But he did not want to lie to her, so he merely said, "I was thinking of the future."
She hummed, a shadow of understanding crossing her face. They'd discussed some of his worries in the past; from his magic to his inheritance of his father's title. But, as they were in public, she did not pry further. He knew this was only a stay of execution, though. She'd get the truth out of him eventually. She always did.
They continued to wander, until Ran halted suddenly. "Shinichi, look!" She pointed at a stall with a very ostentatious design of gilded serpents on the canopy. "It's a fortune-teller!"
Shinichi held back a groan. He'd never met one who wasn't a charlatan: using their magic for small light shows and preying on the particularly gullible. "Ran..." he muttered, but she was already gone. He was left to keep up with her as she trotted eagerly towards the stall.
When they reached it, a pair of dazed-looking men were just leaving. Shinichi eyed their strangely blank faces, feeling a slight twinge at some oddity that he couldn't place. A woman wearing gauzy silk robes was seated behind the counter, two sheer veils covering her crimson hair and the lower half of her face. Metallic embroidery resembling serpents wound along the fabric and tiny gold medallions dangled from the bottom edges of her veils. As he watched, she cleaned up a spread of cards, quickly stacking them in practiced motions before wrapping them in a red silk scarf and putting them to the side. A gleaming crystal ball sat to her right, mist swirling hypnotically within it. He began to look away, but something flickered out of the corner of his eye. In the middle of the ball, something began to take shape. A frown creased his brow as it slowly coalesced. Some kind of bird?
Suddenly, a cloth covered the crystal. He jerked, his eyes snapping up to the woman. Something flashed in her eyes as she smiled, her painted lips a vivid gash in her pale face. "I apologize," she murmured. "Sometimes my tools can be a bit... temperamental." Her long, blood-red fingernails tapped the table for a few moments as she studied them. "As an apology, I'd like to do a reading for you. For free, of course," she added, as Shinichi opened his mouth to object.
Ran tugged lightly on the sleeve of his robe. "Come on, let's do it!" she whispered, and then turned back to the fortune-teller without even waiting for his response.
The woman studied her for a moment. “What do you wish to know?”
Ran hummed, frowning for a moment as she considered the question. “Nothing specific. Just what the future holds for me.”
“Very well.” She unwrapped the deck of cards and shuffled them, letting them fall between her fingers like a waterfall before putting them back in front of her. With a snap of her fingers, a candle flared to life. “Clear your mind and hold your question at the forefront of your thoughts.” One by one, she dealt three cards face-down. The backs were ornate, with golden lines drawing complicated patterns around a snake biting its own tail. The woman’s eyes gleamed smugly in the light of her candle as she caught him examining the cards suspiciously.
When Ran opened her eyes, the fortune-teller flipped up the first one. “The Three of Cups,” she intoned, tracing an image of three women lifting chalices. “Three people, bonded in childhood through circumstance and then forged through fire until they were nigh unbreakable. You have faced many challenges to get to where you are today, and the others supported you every step of the way. Your hard work does you great credit, my lady. But beyond your own efforts, it is your bonds with your friends that are truly your greatest strength. Rely on them, and they will not let you down.”
The second card revealed a man holding a wand and orb and staring at the horizon. “The Two of Wands. You have great ambitions, many of which lie in a faraway land. There is no shame in taking strength from the comfort of familiarity, but beware the stagnation that comes with inaction. A storm is on the horizon, so make sure you are well-prepared for the journey ahead. When you are ready, do not hesitate to strike. Your foundations, “ she tapped the Three of Cups, “will serve you well in this endeavor.”
Slowly, she turned over the last card. “Oh, The Lovers. How interesting,” she purred. She tapped the painted figure of a woman standing in front of a tree laden with fruit. Despite himself, Shinichi perked up and bent closer to examine it. Next to the woman was a winged figure, and on the right a man stood in front of a tree laden with flames instead of leaves. “There will be love in your future. Passionate and heartfelt, a longing in your soul made manifest.” Ran smiled brightly, her hand secretly latching on to Shinichi’s as they pressed together. “But,” she held up a hand. “You must make a choice, one which will irrevocably change your life. Still,” and here she tapped the Two of Wands, “there will be a way for everyone to get what they want. Persevere, and you will find it as long as you listen to your heart.”
As that sank in, the fortune-teller closed her eyes. “It is done,” she intoned. She gathered the cards back up into a stack before turning to Shinichi. "Now, for you."
He shook his head. "No, that's unnecessary, thank you."
"You must," she snapped. In a flash, she drew a single card from the deck and slapped it onto the table. It depicted a tower at the moment it was struck by lightning, with several human figures falling from it. "The Tower," she intoned. "Misery, distress, indigence, adversity, calamity, disgrace, deception, ruin. It is a card of unforeseen catastrophe." She paused for a moment. "As it is reversed, it is slightly better, but still a harbinger of doom. You would do well to heed my words."
Shinichi narrowed his eyes. It could be a trick, one she pulled out for any recalcitrant would-be customers. But what did she have to gain, since she was offering her services for free? A slight squeeze drew his attention to Ran as her fingers clenched tighter and tighter onto his own while she worried at her lips. He sighed, and finally nodded.
"Excellent."
She shuffled the cards again and laid out three. Something buzzed in Shinichi’s stomach, and he couldn’t help a scowl. He wasn’t actually nervous about this performance, was he?
The first card revealed a hand clutching a pentacle. “Oh, the Ace of Pentacles.” The fortune-teller’s eyes gleamed with delight as she grinned. “With your birth, a seed was planted with potential for something truly great. You have not yet begun to sprout, but the time for awakening is nigh. Already, you have begun to gather the pieces.”
He scoffed. “Are you trying to flatter me? I don’t believe in this nonsense in the first place.”
The fortune-teller raised an eyebrow. “Why doubt me? You have already received the first piece. It was also a Pentacle, was it not?”
Abruptly, the blood drained from his face as he remembered Agasa’s book in Ran’s bag. He bristled as gooseflesh prickled on the back of his neck. “Who are you?” he snapped. “Were you watching us?”
“I am but a humble witch, my lord.” She laughed as she covered her mouth with one of her pale, spidery hands. Her eyes gleamed almost maliciously over her fingers. “I merely do as the gods bid.”
Shinichi gritted his teeth. “I don’t believe in the gods.”
She steepled her fingers and leaned over the cards on the table, a smirk widening her blood-red lips. “Well, they most certainly believe in you.” She glanced down at the three cards before sweeping them aside. “What do you desire, Ser Knight?”
He breathed out slowly, anger burning like a hot coal in his stomach. “That is personal,” he gritted.
She waved her hand dismissively. "Humor me. There's no need to go into specifics."
As if he would share anything with this woman who spewed vague prophecies and veiled threats. He crossed his arms. "What does any man want?" he replied. "A home. Family. A purpose to serve." And none of that was false. If his true desires were buried among a muddled tangle of fears and obligations, that was absolutely none of her business.
A sharp cackle burst out of her lips. Shinichi's jaw clenched as she covered her mouth again, her laughter still clearly audible behind her hand.
Once she regained control of herself, she smirked up at him. "Then you are a Fool."
Shinichi's face darkened. How dare she speak to him like this? Who did she think she was? Inside him, his magic rippled in response to his anger, his senses unfurling to brush the edge of her soul.
Instantly, something raked across his magic, like a clawed hand trying to swat him away. The witch jerked in her seat at that instant as he felt a foreign surge of possessiveness flood through him.
His eyes flew wide with shock. Something else had already staked a claim to this woman's soul.
He bowed his head hastily, hiding his face as she glared daggers at him. "I apologize for my rudeness."
Ran looked back and forth between them, confusion painting her features, when suddenly the woman jerked again, her eyes rolling back in her head. Darkness drew across his sight like a veil, the heat of the summer day suddenly vanishing with the light. In an instant, they drifted in an empty void, just him and the witch, though he could feel the presence of the other that he had touched, scorchingly hot like a star in its own right.
Her hair floated free from her veil, drifting around her like a bloodspill as she stared fixedly at him. "The conjunction is nigh," she whispered, her voice echoing as if coming from very far away. "The Source will once again descend upon the world, and Death will open His arms to embrace it. The Beast will rise to devour the Sun, and all will be lost if the World does not awaken."
He blinked. "What? What does that mean?" He tried to step towards her, but there was nothing beneath his feet. With a cry, he fell forward and plunged into the endless abyss.
And then, sound and sensation came rushing back in. He staggered, Ran grabbing onto his arm to hold him up. The witch also swayed in her chair, her face drawn with pain. Her hand went to her forehead as she screwed her eyes shut.
"Leave." Her voice was raw, as if words had been physically torn from her throat.
Shinichi did not argue, still shaken by the eerie sensation of falling without feeling the wind rushing past. He hobbled away, leaning heavily on Ran as they made their way to a quiet, empty alley where he could sit on the cobblestones and just breathe. She sat next to him, uncaring of the filth on the street, and watched as he put his head in between his knees.
"What happened?" Her voice was soft, with a hint of guilt around the edges.
"I-I'm not sure," he mumbled, as his trembling hands gripped tightly onto his shins.
"If I hadn't insisted–"
Shinichi's head shot up, his right hand flying out to rest on Ran's where they clawed into her dress. "No, it's not your fault. Please don't blame yourself. I think my magic may have reacted badly." He smiled at her, a weak, lopsided thing. She was the only one outside his family who knew how dysfunctional his magic really was.
Her own smile trembled as her eyes filled with tears, pooling until they slowly dripped down her cheeks.
His heart ached at the sight. Carefully, he retrieved a handkerchief from his belt pouch with his other hand and dabbed at the trails on her face. Her hands slowly unclenched before gradually turning around to grasp tightly onto his own. He rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand as she cried while she pressed herself into his side, her warmth seeping into him to drive away the cold loneliness. It was a good thing they were alone. Like this, they could comfort each other as much as they wanted without anyone to judge them.
After she calmed down, they broke apart to quietly lean against the building wall.
"I have to return to my family's manor within the week," Ran said, without looking at him, her voice barely above a whisper.
Shinichi turned his head towards her as a lead weight settled in his gut. "Oh?"
"My father has made a mess of things again." Her lips pinched together bitterly. "If only he spent as much time managing the estate as he did in his cups."
He blew a gusty sigh out through his nose as he shifted against the wall. Even though he'd known it was only a matter of time before she had to leave again, it hit him like a physical blow. Maybe, just this once, he wouldn't be a coward and would ask her for her hand in marriage. A needless formality given their betrothal, but dear to his heart nonetheless.
And yet, he hesitated. He'd gladly fall on his own sword before hurting her, but his magic was unpredictable even in the best of times. Today was only one of several such incidents, though this one was by far the strangest. It stayed his tongue and, once again, he said nothing.
"I will miss you."
Her answering chuckle was slightly watery. "I'll return for the Founding Celebration. It won't be long. But here, this will keep you company instead." She nudged him in the arm with something hard, and he turned to the side only to see her pushing Agasa's book of legends into his hands.
Revulsion welled up at the memory of the witch’s reading. He recoiled and pressed it back. "I can't take this, Ran.”
“Don’t mind her words,” she said, reddened eyes suddenly fierce. “You enjoy Agasa’s stories as much as I do. Don’t let her sour them for you.” Her smile took on a sharply determined edge as she pushed it back again, and he knew it was a lost cause.
He slowly reached for it, like it was a viper. The book felt strange in his hands, and he turned it around and around, like he’d never seen one before. “Very well, but I am only borrowing it. You must take it back next time.”
She smiled softly. "Of course. It's a promise."
By the time they left to return to their homes, the full moon was already rising in the sky above them.
---
Something tickled his nose. He scrunched his face up at the sensation, before quickly relaxing. Then it happened again. He frowned and rubbed at it with his hand before rolling over in his bed.
Except what met his face wasn't cool linen, but soft, sweet-smelling grass.
Shinichi's eyes flew open as he sat bolt upright. Rather than the darkness of his room, around him was a field of long, soft grass, painted silver by the unusually large full moon that loomed above him. Among the grass were countless white flowers of every kind, each one strangely translucent and fragile, as if made from spun glass.
Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet. He was clad only in what he had worn to bed: his linen nightshirt, and his bare toes sank into the soft earth. Slowly, he flexed his fingers as his hands itched for the comforting weight of his sword. His magic stirred sluggishly in his chest, seemingly sated on the moonbeams that poured down from above.
He licked his lips and called out. "Hello?"
But there was only the breeze, rusting through the grass. The flowers bobbed along, the moonlight playing off them until they seemed to glow with inner light.
And yet, the more Shinichi looked, it seemed that a particular patch of nearby flowers was actually glowing. He stepped towards it. "Is someone there?"
The glow died, only for a new patch further along to light up.
He stared at it for a long moment. If he was dreaming, it was a very vivid one that he could not awaken from. The field stretched on endlessly in every direction, without any distinguishable landmarks, and any direction seemed as good as the next. Even if the flowers were meant to lead him to his doom, he had no other clues to go on.
Decision made, he pushed on through the grass after the glowing flowers. The beat of his heart kept time when nothing else, not the position of the moon nor the quality of its light, seemed to change.
Nothing, until a new sparkle crested the horizon. As he approached, the light resolved into the wavering reflection of the moon in the waters of a lake, large enough that he strained to see the opposite shore, where a massive, shadowy form lurked despite the light pouring down from above. His breath caught in his chest. What sort of monster awaited him, here in this strange realm?
Even as his heart beat double-time, still, his magic didn't respond, as if it was a lazy cat basking in the sun. Once more, he bit back a curse at the damned thing, his fingers instinctively clenching into fists. Never more did he wish that he'd received the same training from Makoto that Ran had. He would feel less like a helpless babe before a hungry wolf.
Still, the flowers led him on, and so he followed. It took many breaths before the shape finally started to resolve into that of a colossal tree.
A willow.
He stopped in his tracks, as the resemblance ceased being a coincidence. This was the realm of the gods that Agasa spoke of, the one in which the Tree of Life dwelled.
But how could he possibly be here? It wasn't like he'd set off on some fantastical quest. He'd been asleep! A frown creased his brow as the possibilities raced through his head. He hadn't touched a drop of alcohol at the festival, nor was he prone to unusually vivid dreams. And... the thought was hesitant, but the possibility couldn't be ignored. Surely he hadn't died in his sleep. If that was true, why wake up here and not in Death's realm?
Each theory was thrown out, until he arrived at only one.
Had the Tree summoned him? Why? He wasn't special, just a knight who happened to be the son of a duke.
Yet still, the witch’s words echoed in his mind. With your birth, a seed was planted.
The glowing flowers pulsed, pulling his attention from his thoughts. Now that he made the connection to the legend, why were these flowers white? He bent down to brush one with his fingertips. It was as fragile as a gossamer and broke apart under his touch. Instantly, he snatched his hand back, but the damage was done as glowing petals faded and crumbled into dust. Dread sank into his heart as he looked back at his path, only to see a trail of bare grass in his wake. He closed his eyes and bowed his head, a distant, almost foreign sorrow settling into his bones. "I'm sorry, I didn't know," he murmured.
The breeze picked up, rustling through distant branches almost like a sigh. But still the glowing flowers beckoned him onwards.
He picked his way through the fields as carefully as he could, but he could not avoid more flowers dying to his footsteps. The Tree loomed larger and larger, and it was only when he had almost reached it that he noticed something new. Around It, a ring of flowers, no wider than a man's height, was vibrant with a thousand colors. He bent down to carefully examine one. There was something less ephemeral about it as well, as if it was more grounded in this realm.
The conclusion struck like a bolt of lightning,
The realm of the Tree of Life was almost entirely lifeless.
Something was dreadfully wrong.
"Are you dying?" he whispered. "Is that why I'm here?"
A hum rang out, though he could not parse it.
He remained cautious as he crept through the colorful flowers, though they proved to be far more resilient than the pale, almost ghostly, ones. The impossibly wide trunk of the Tree spread out before him, Its leafy branches trailing almost to the ground in thick, verdant waterfalls. As he watched, the thin branches coiled and twined around each other, slowly undulating in a way that more resembled an animal than a plant.
And slowly, they curled towards him, beckoning him closer.
"I don't know how I can help you," he murmured, but approached nonetheless. The leaves parted like a curtain, welcoming him into the inner sanctuary.
The hum came again, vibrating something in his very core. The knot within him twisted, drawing a sharp gasp of pain from his lips. He stumbled, his right hand landing solidly on the coarse bark of Its trunk.
And then went through it.
Panic lanced white-hot through him as his arm sank in to the shoulder, the surface of the bark rippling around him like water. Fortunately, It did not pull him in any further, but neither did It release him. Fruitlessly, he yanked at his arm until his shoulder ached with it. "What are you doing? Let me go!" he shouted. Perhaps it was rude to speak to It like that, but he was past caring.
Strangely, the inside of the Tree was not solid. Instead, there was an oddly viscous mist, which clung uncomfortably to his skin as he struggled. Ever so slowly, it grew thicker as it twined around his fingers. He paused at the strange sensation, chills crawling up his spine, until something needle-sharp sank into the back of his hand. With a yelp, he heaved himself backwards, straining to escape. But a spark had already rushed inside, racing through his blood to his heart and nestling down beside the darkness within. The heat of it died down quickly, until it had disappeared from his questing senses.
And then something cold and solid materialized in his palm.
Abruptly, his arm slipped free without any resistance, sending him stumbling backwards from the force of his own pull. He fell flat on his back, the air whooshing out of his chest despite the soft cushion of grass beneath him. A dazed fog filled his head, and he could only stare as he lifted his right hand. Blood dribbled from two puncture marks on the back of it, like he'd been bitten by a snake.
But clutched in his grasp was the hilt of a sheathed longsword. It was a solid weight in his hand: a gold hilt with a reddish-brown leather grip and a large ruby set into the guard, cut into the shape of a scintillating flower with dozens of overlapping teardrop-shaped petals. The scabbard was wrapped in the same leather, with gold reinforcements and delicate golden branches tracing the outside of it.
It drew him in, his senses seeking to drink in every aspect of it. Almost without him noticing, he had risen to his feet and stumbled beyond the leafy curtain and into the moonlight. As if freshly oiled, the sword easily slipped free of its sheath. The blade was a bright, shining silver, easily reflecting the moonlight like a mirror. Unusually, a light blue gem was set into the blade a handspan from the tip.
His eyes narrowed. Ordinarily, such a weapon would be purely ceremonial, but even he could feel the waves of magic pulsing from the gems. He slid it back into its scabbard and turned to the Tree. Frustration edged his words. "How is this supposed to help?"
Observe.
"What?" But he had no more than a shocked instant to react to the sudden hum before his bitten hand spasmed. He cursed and stretched it out before him, watching in fascinated horror as black lines spidered out from the puncture marks, eventually forming into a simple outline of a serpent biting its own tail.
As he stared at the marking, the lines started to blur before his eyes. He looked up sluggishly at the Tree as innumerable branches reached for him, cradling his suddenly boneless limbs as his eyelids started sliding shut. "No, wait," he mumbled, his words starting to slur. "Tell me–"
He collapsed into the Tree’s embrace and knew no more.