The air elementals were surpassing themselves. The sweet, chime-like whispers of their music permeated the vaulted hall, harmonizing perfectly with the faint hum of power that anyone magically sensitive could detect. Beams of light slanting through the stained glass skylights bathed the mirror-bright floor in pastel rainbows, matching the unseen colors of the aura that surrounded the ancient edifice. Even the shadows of the Stellar Church glittered.
Only one shadow moved out of sync with the rest, and its owner regretted the necessity of disturbing such a pleasant aura. But darker shadows were abroad in the world, and duty demanded that he respond.
He stepped through the barely-visible curtain of energy that shielded the central chamber and walked down the aisle of carpeting, his feet making only the barest of sounds despite the heavy metal boots. Other segments of his armor made some small sound as the joints flexed, but like the songs of the elementals, the faintly musical clinking was not out of place in this hallowed hall. His vanity, one of the few vices he allowed himself, would not permit that.
"Mirufi. Welcome."
Her voice was crystal, not so much echoing within the vaulted chamber as vibrating through it. He suppressed the shiver that came, as always. He'd longed for her for centuries, and would no more dream of acting on that longing than slitting his own throat, but her voice still had the power to stir the old feelings. Another vice. Better to confine such mundane desires to the occasional mortal, and leave her on the pedestal where she justly belonged. He smiled a little to himself as he knelt at her feet.
Her amusement tinted the colors of the ambient aura a delicate shade of pink for a moment. She was alone, and on such occasions they could allow the usual barriers of formality that existed between them to slip aside. "Something pleases you, Mirufi?"
"Only being in your presence, Mamu, as always." He grew serious; such pleasantries could wait for a better time. "Have you sensed it?"
Her smile faded, and the air elementals, responding to her mood, sang an uneasy minor. "Uhn. I had hoped that this time would not come." She sighed, and the colors of the shadows deepened, just a little.
"Aa. But such things do not wait for convenient times, Mamu. We are prepared, of course." He lifted his head. She would not want to hear this. But he had to say it. "It can still be prevented, if you wish. They would not expect it, from me."
She regarded him for a long moment. "Could you really do something like that, Mirufi?"
He sighed and lowered his eyes again. "I... would do whatever you deemed necessary, Mamu. But that has never been our way."
"No, it has not. We will allow matters to progress as fate dictates." She sighed and held up a hand; an image appeared in the air before her, nothing more than illusion. "It pains me that he'll suffer so much. Even Zaha was not so great a threat to him as this."
"He's far stronger than he seems. His soul is first among the Shichuuten, after all. It is the mortal shell that encases his soul which is in doubt."
"Yes. The human heart has such potential for good or evil." She turned the image, slowly, and sighed. "The Conclave has been planning this move for a long time. And the Faaruneria government is powerless to stop them. As usual."
"We have no proof, to be honest. And no jurisdiction."
Her beautiful eyes were bleak. "And so we must again stand by and watch as suffering is inflicted, in the name of peace." She sighed, closing her eyes and looking away for a moment. "Zaha... sometimes I wonder if he was right."
He looked up, swiftly, and frowned. "Zaha's extremism would have destroyed all and risked every future. You can't countenance that."
She smiled, sadly, and shook her head. "No, Mirufi, I can't, and you know it. But I do wonder. Especially when one of my favorites is the one who must suffer. I suppose it's the mother in me. He's so young." She fell silent, gazing at the image again.
Mirufi looked up at the image for a moment and smiled just a little, unable to resist the spark of mischief and covetousness that moved through him. "He is beautiful, though, isn't he?"
Mamu chuckled a little; chimes rang sweetly in the air. "You're incorrigible." She banished the image, her smile fading. "Save your charms for a time when they'll be needed, Mirufi."
"Hai. Shall I go now?"
"Please. Report to me when you can. And--- Mirufi---"
"Yes, Mamu?"
She was silent for a long moment, and he sensed it; the warring of her heart and her head, love and duty. "Do what you must."
He bowed his head low, silently acknowledging the volume of pain hidden within that soft sentence.
"Hai."
She said nothing more, and the air-elementals fell silent, as he rose and left on his mission.
At the edge of the Kaniyfu Free Province, the Suporoko River broadened from a peaceable oversized stream into an insane undersized tsunami, and even the auditory cushion of several miles of deciduous forestland could not quite disguise its watery, churning snarl.
The people of the province had chosen, for the most part, to make their homes some miles away from the place where the river made its true nature known. This was because the growl of the water was so fierce and unnerving that they spoke in hushed tones, making the sign of the Stellar Church to ward against evil, and called it the voice of a demon. Yet the wildlife of the region seemed unaffected by the dark magics rumored to run rampant through the riverlands, and it was clear to anyone who ventured to observe the scenic little valley that there was no oppressive cloud of gloom hanging overhead.
Indeed, given the fertility and unspoiled beauty of the region, many marveled that some enterprising Sorcerer hadn't moved into the region long ago, to exploit it. But it was well-known that Sorcerers, like lone wolves, lived more the appearance than substance of independence. They pretended to hold themselves aloof from the common masses, but in truth they rarely strayed far from their familiar territories. And however isolated the region might appear to the casual eye, in truth, aside from the Stellar Church itself, the seemingly untouched land of north Kaniyfu was quite possibly the most important spot on the planet.
None of the land's secrets were visible at first sight, however---especially not in the shadow of the small, craggy mountain that jutted into the sky a few miles from the river. And as the wispy clouds of the late autumn night parted lazily to allow the dawn to make its entrance, the not-quite-peace of the forest was broken, softly and slowly, by the lilting strains of a pipe.
He had not played in years, but the old skill had never died, and while occasionally his fingers slipped and played a note that was off-true, for the most part the old talent guided his long fingers truly. It was only when his mind interfered that he flubbed a measure. Of course, it took more than mere talent to overcome years without practice. The land and the roar of the river helped his hands remember. Being home helped him remember.
He stopped, however, hearing a faint step behind him, and relaxed slightly as he sensed his brother's presence. Lowering the pipe without turning, he smiled a little. "Gomen nasai, Niisan. I didn't mean to wake you or the others."
Carrot stepped around a tree, smiling. "Nah. It was a nice way to wake up. I'd forgotten you used to play the flute, Marron."
Marron half-smiled and broke the flute down, crouching to tuck it back into its small case. Carrot stretched while he did so, turning to look around the valley and sighing. Then he grinned back at Marron over his shoulder. "A week without a real woman in sight. Only you could drag me out here to the middle of nowhere, you know."
"No one ever died of blue balls, Niisan---or wouldn't you be dead by now?" He smiled wryly at Carrot's start of mock-protest.
"I get lucky sometimes, I'll have you know."
A smile touched Marron's lips; he lowered his gaze compliantly. "Ah, yes. Of course."
Grumbling, Carrot shoved his hands into his pockets. "How long is this going to take, anyway? And when the hell are you going to tell us why you dragged us all out here, hmm?"
"In time." Closing the case, Marron straightened and turned to his brother. "Please be patient, Niisan. You and the others didn't have to accompany me this far. I was prepared to come alone."
Carrot snorted. "Yeah, but what kind of big brother would I be if I let you go off all by yourself into the great unknown? You need me to protect you." He jabbed his chest with a thumb, smugly.
Marron felt a smile come to his lips again; only Carrot could lighten his mood when he had so many worries weighing on him. "Of course."
"Yareyare. You couldn't protect a blade of grass from the sun, baka." Carrot jumped and turned as Gateau's long shadow fell over him. Marron glanced once at the tall warrior, and then away.
Carrot made a face. "What, and you're just along for the hell of it?" He waved a hand, carelessly. "Don't tell me you'd have come all the way out here to the middle of nowhere for just any of us. Admit it---you came for Marron. Ne?" He grinned and elbowed Gateau's middle teasingly. Marron stiffened and looked up, stomach tightening.
Gateau stared back at Carrot in a startled, angry silence for a long moment. He turned and glanced at Marron, his blue eyes darker than usual with suppressed pain. Then he turned, without another word, and walked away.
Marron sighed and lowered his eyes. Carrot stared after Gateau, then at Marron, blinking from one to the other. Marron could almost hear the gears turning in his brother's head, and he rose and turned away to leave, knowing that as always, Carrot would understand just enough to guess at the truth. And sure enough, after a moment he felt the psychic flare of Carrot's anger.
"So that's it. Something's happened between the two of you."
He sighed, picking up the flute case to avoid looking at his brother. "I have to go soon, Niisan."
"Don't pull that with me, Marron. I know you. Did he hurt you? What did he do to you?"
Marron turned to gaze at him frankly. "Why do you assume he did anything to me, Niisan? Don't you think I'm responsible for my own 'perversions'?"
Carrot flinched and looked away, scowling. "I don't know or care what you do with your private life. But you're my brother and I care about you, damn it, and I..." He sighed and paused, running fingers through his hair. "He's always after you. Can you blame me for worrying?"
He regarded Carrot for a long while, his anger fading slowly. He could never remain angry at his brother for long. Sighing, he looked away, reluctant to talk about it but feeling obligated to give Carrot an answer. "Gateau hasn't hurt me, Niisan. It's more... the other way around. So please watch your tongue around him for a while. He's not in the mood for your teasing, these days."
He could sense, behind him, Carrot's consternation, and he heard his brother shift from one foot to the other uneasily. "So... um... you and him..." He fell silent for a moment, and Marron could almost hear his brother's teeth grinding together. "Did you ever...?"
Marron felt a brief, sad smile touch his lips, out of Carrot's view. "For what it's worth, Niisan... no. There's never been anything between us."
Moments he'd tried not to remember flickered across his mind: a hundred nights standing watch together, under the stars, with nothing to do but talk. A hesitant, hastily-stolen kiss on a golden afternoon. An even more hesitant, far more painful confession of yearnings long-hidden or artfully covered. The lonely, long nights since. He banished the memories as best he could.
He would deal with them later. After tomorrow night.
Another scuffle, behind him, and he pulled his mind back to the present. "But..." Carrot sighed, hesitated, and pressed on. "Well... I thought..."
"For someone who doesn't care much about my private life, Niisan, you certainly ask a lot of questions."
Embarassed silence. "Gomen nasai. I just... don't like to see you this way."
Surprised, he turned to Carrot. "What way?"
"You know." Carrot's shoulders were hunched and he wouldn't meet Marron's eyes; he'd never been good at talking about matters of the heart. "Quiet. Withdrawn. More depressed than usual." He smiled a little, half-teasing. "I know you. There's quiet, and then there's quiet."
Marron smiled, despite himself. "Oh, that. Well, if it's any consolation, I've just had a lot on my mind lately. Unrelated to anyone here." He turned away, looking off toward the mountain in the near distance. "If all goes well, in the next few days..." He trailed off, unable to suppress the little whisper within himself that silently accused him of self-deception. "Well. We'll just have to see."
Carrot's frustration was nearly palpable, and so he was expecting it when his brother blurted, "But when are you going to tell us---"
He turned, fixing Carrot with a firm gaze, and watched until Carrot fell silent. "When I get back, I told you. Now. It's time for me to go. I should be no more than three days, like I said. I'll explain everything then." He smiled, hoping to project reassurance, and again stifled a momentary flicker of guilt. "Ja mata, Niisan."
He turned, ignoring Carrot's uneasy silence, and started up the trail, leaving his brother, his friends, and his doubts---most of them, anyhow---behind.
Over the roaring of the river, horses neighed, their voices made tinny by the basso rumble of the water. To try and talk over such a cacophony would have been foolishness; they would have wound up shouting themselves hoarse and still been unable to hear. Fortunately, Sorcerers had no need to rely on mere sound for communication.
Carunirian glanced over at Garunetto, and smiled a little. [Intending to make the waters part so that we can cross, O-Garunetto-sama?]
Garunetto, fixed a glower on him from beneath heavy brows, curled his lip. [No. I can have all of the men on the other side of the river by nightfall.]
[And then we'd better camp near the river,] added Topaza, spurring his horse up to stand alongside theirs. [The energy-currents here are so chaotic that they should provide a natural shield, and we can conserve our resources.]
Carunirian laughed. [For what? It's just a bunch of commoners, Topaza. It will take only a fraction of our combined magic to bring them down. You're too cautious.]
Topaza regarded him expressionlessly. [And you're too reckless, 'Viscount' Carunirian. That title you bought won't protect you from these commoners when they start to fight. Overestimating them is foolishness. There's too much we don't know about them.]
Carunirian smirked to show that Topaza's jibes weren't bothering him, although his eyes glittered for a moment. [Fine, fine, we'll camp by the river, then, if you're all such craven cowards. I still say you should just turn me loose on them, and they'll all be begging for mercy by dawn.]
[And you will then stand against the Council alone, when they condemn you for a treaty-breaker,] Garunetto intoned coldly. [Together, our might is such that they won't risk war to punish us. Act alone, Carunirian, and we will not stand with you.]
Carunirian's smile quirked a bit, becoming venomous, but he inclined his head graciously. [By your command, then. We attack whenever you gather up the courage to call us into battle.] Dismissing them, he turned his horse away and headed back toward the camp.
Topaza sighed, watching Carunirian leave, and then turned to Garunetto. [Will you control him, when the attack begins? Or let him vent his... appetites...] A curling of Topaza's lip betrayed his disgust. [...unchecked?]
Garunetto sighed, shaking his head. [It's more than Carunirian. Count Oparu and Lady Torumarin are eager for slaughter, too. Their fear of these commoners has made their hatred obsessive.] He rubbed his eyes with thick fingers. [I wish we hadn't had to ally ourselves with them. But their strength will be invaluable, and this threat is too great. I can't let my personal tastes get in the way of our mission.]
[Hai.] Topaza looked up beyond the river, toward the mountain, and frowned a little. [I wish the river weren't so powerful, here. I can't be sure, but... I sense something else. Some other power.]
Garunetto looked at him sharply. [The Haz Knights?]
[No... not that powerful. They wouldn't dare interfere, anyway.]
[No, you're right. But then we needn't worry; the Haz Knights are the only ones with the power to stop us. Even if Mamu sent the entire force of Sorcerer Hunters against us, we are twelve of the most powerful Sorcerers on the planet; so long as we are allied, nothing can stop us.] Shaking his head, he looked behind them, at the other Sorcerers and the troops ranged behind them. [We need to cross this river. Keep an eye on whatever it is you sense, Topaza; I want no surprises before our attack. I'll begin teleporting now.]
[Hai.] Topaza turned away to return to the troops as Garunetto's power began to rise, and the river's roar droned on beyond them.
He'd only gotten a mile or so from the camp when he heard what he should have expected: footsteps, surreptitiously moving only when he moved, taking great pains to go unnoticed. Footsteps that were familiar, after seven years of listening to them as they travelled. He sighed inwardly, stopped, and turned. "I asked not to be followed."
Gateau stepped silently from behind a tree, hands shoved into his pockets, head bowed but unrepentant. "You should have known better than to try and leave me behind."
Marron sighed. He didn't want to deal with this right now. "You can't come with me, Gateau-san. I've told you that."
Gateau looked up, his expression hard. "Not even as 'just a friend'?" Marron regarded him silently, and after a long moment he cursed softly and turned away, slamming one fist against the trunk of the tree, leaving an impression. "I hate this."
Marron sighed and sat down on a fallen log; it was clear that he had little choice but to face this and deal with it now, whether he wanted to or not. "'This'...? Not me?"
Startled, Gateau glared at him. "It would be a lot easier if I could hate you. I tried, for a while. It didn't work." He sighed, shoulders slumping, and leaned one hand against the tree, head hanging so that a few wispy strands of his golden hair fell into his face. "I don't understand, Marron. I told myself I wouldn't question your decision, but... To hell with that. Help me understand."
God... could this get any more painful? He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, and sighed again. "I told you. I... can't be with you, Gateau. Not the way you want. Not now. Maybe... not ever."
Gateau regarded him for a long moment, as if expecting more. "Fine. But at least tell me why. I deserve to know that, at least. Was..." and here Marron's stomach twisted to see a proud man reduced to stammering and hesitation, "...was it me? Something I did or said? All those times I... damn it, Marron, that was just to get your attention, I thought you knew..."
"I knew." He kept his eyes on the grass at his feet.
"Then what is it?" Gateau rounded on him, came to stand over him, fists clenched. "I need to know, damn it, if only so I can finally start hating you."
He looked up into his friend's face---was he still a friend? Only Kami knew. "I don't want you to hate me."
It took only that quiet statement, and Gateau's anger faded as if it had never been, and was replaced only by a look of weary, confused sorrow. "Then talk to me. For once, unbend and tell me what's going on behind those eyes of yours. Because I sure as hell can't figure it out."
He had to tell Gateau something. But not the truth---never that. It would hurt him, more than the pain that had been inflicted so far, and this was already hard enough. "I've... told you all I can. I can't be with you. I... I want to." He lowered his eyes, looked at his hands. "I think you know that."
Footsteps again, crossing the glade to stand in front of him. Fingers touched his chin, lifted his face; reluctantly he looked up at Gateau again. The other man's eyes were dark with suppressed pain; he spoke quietly. "I know. I... damn it, Marron, I..." For once it was Gateau who looked away, his cheeks flushed with humiliation. "I don't tell something like that to every person I meet."
He lifted his hand and let his fingers touch Gateau's wrist, and ached inwardly at the way Gateau flinched. Did just his touch have so much power? He supposed it must. "I know, Gateau. And I... appreciate your honesty. It's why I'm being honest with you."
"You're not being honest with me. You're not telling me what I need to know." The edge was in his voice again as he glared at Marron. "I'm not stupid. I know I wasn't wrong about you." He kneeled, too-swiftly, and looked Marron in the eyes, nose almost touching. "People who don't give a damn don't kiss like that."
Gateau's eyes dared him not to look away, and he forced himself to meet their challenge. "I... care."
"Then if that's not the problem, what is? Is it... " Purest agony flickered through the blue eyes for a moment, but the question came anyhow. "Is it someone else?"
"...No."
Gods, he had no honor.
Gateau planted his hands on the log on either side of Marron. "Tell me you don't want me, then. Tell me that and I'll leave you alone forever."
"You know that's not true," he admitted weakly.
"Yes. I do." And quickly, before Marron could look away, Gateau thrust forward and kissed him.
It had all the power of the first time, when Gateau had cornered him after the sake party, while they were both still flushed with the drink, lightheaded with something more. And he felt himself reacting as he had that first time, leaning into the kiss, trembling a little at the sudden, paralyzing flux of emotions within himself. It wasn't the hungry, sloppy kiss of that long-ago day; this one was at once more tender and awkward and intense. He could taste Gateau's longing in his lips.
But he couldn't think, when Gateau pulled back, searching for something in his eyes. Whatever the other man sought, there must have been enough of it to satisfy him, because then he leaned forward again, one arm going around Marron's back, caressing. His other hand lifted, pushed the ever-recalcitrant strands of hair away from his face to bare his neck above the collar, and Marron could only gasp when Gateau's mouth touched him here as well, gentle and startlingly warm, mobile, seeking to stir Marron's hunger to match his own. And against his will, Marron felt himself responding to that unspoken request, as Gateau's arms tightened around him.
No... It would be so easy. He could simply say nothing, do nothing, and he needed no clairvoyance to know what would happen next. Gateau would take him, here, on a fragrant carpet of leaves in the dappled weak sunlight of autumn. And he would enjoy it. And---
---and everything he'd worked for, for the last seven years, would be ashes. And he would live on with the knowledge that he'd violated oaths both sacred and personal, throwing aside love and honor for mere infatuation. For a quick, sweaty roll in the grass.
"No---" Blurting the word, he pushed at Gateau's shoulders, shoving him away with all his strength.
The insects and birds were silent. Gateau stared at him in shock and hurt and dawning anger.
He couldn't meet Gateau's eyes, couldn't look at the humiliation that his rejection had caused, couldn't think. He could feel the flush on his cheeks, his neck still tingling where Gateau's lips had been, his erection still insistently pressing against his abdomen and demanding action. All of it was nothing, compared to the leaden coldness in the pit of his stomach.
He tried, managed a word. "Gateau---"
"No." Without seeing Gateau's expression, he heard a different kind of coldness in the other man's voice and knew then that it was over, friendship and whatever else there might have been between them. Gateau got to his feet and stood over him, and he could all but hear the tightly-suppressed tension in his body. "I understand, now. I've already gotten the only answer out of you I'm ever going to get."
He turned away, and Marron looked up at his back, raising a hand involuntarily, wanting to call to him, but instinct kept him silent. There was nothing he could have said, anyhow, to breach the chasm that had opened, suddenly and bottomlessly, between them.
Gateau walked away. Marron stayed where he was. After a while, the birds began, once more, to sing.
**End Ch. 1