This proves nothing, except that maybe Ajibana was not very normal. He stood at his window, a tall man, his dark hair matching the night that he observed outside. The cold wind that blew through his country did not bother him. In the distance, he could just see the outline snow covered peaks, jagged and almost impassable, that separated his country from Lajandra. For it was his country now. The king was dead, his son too young, the woman who had borne him long gone.

The sorrow he had felt had passed. It had been in a moment of weakness that he had taken Kumiko�s hand and spoken in the manner he had. He was very young, yes, and not yet at the age where he could look wise and bear his sorrows without saying something. He had shed a quiet tear, alone in his chambers, and then swallowed it down. There was something about crying that he hated. He, who was to make Tzorke the greatest country there ever was, taking it to a height it had never reached before� how could he cry? Crying was for the weak, and most certainly, Ajibana was not weak.

The door behind him opened, and closed, and Ajibana did not even turn around. The shadow of a smile fluttered across his handsome face, like a very misplaced butterfly. He had serious eyes, and a serious face, and the smile did not seem to fit into his whole outer shell. He knew who it was without having to turn around. He had memorized the rhythmic sound of her soft footsteps, memorized her almost silent breathing, her fragrance, her face�

�Hello, Kumiko,� he said, in his deep, yet young voice.

The slightly older woman behind him smiled, and he knew exactly how her lips curved. Ajibana was a young man. An observer, a planner, and a leader. And without knowing it, though he knew everything about the shorter woman behind him, he was also very much in love.

�I heard about the meeting,� said Kumiko, in a soft tone.

Ajibana chuckled at this. Yes, the meeting. Ajibana had enjoyed that meeting. It was not rare that he experienced power over other individuals, and even so, when such moments came along, he enjoyed them thoroughly. The near erotic rush of power made him heady, and he had had to master himself once he had become the commander of the imperial forces of Tzorke before he could master the people around him. And now that he had mastered both, he could enjoy the fruits of his long hours in training, his late nights of planning... everything he had imagined was happening, and he felt powerful. And it felt good.

�You made ... quite an impression on them,� said Kumiko. There was no hint of amusement in her voice.

Ajibana turned around to face the woman. She was smiling. �I know,� he said, in an amused tone. �But they are no longer in charge. They no longer have the power to��

�And you do,� finished Kumiko, knowing where this conversation was going. �Yes, I�ve heard. But they are more experienced. Perhaps you should listen to them?�

�What for?� asked Ajibana, his voice rising a bit, forehead creasing childishly. He looked at Kumiko reproachfully, as though she was being a spoil-sport, destroying his moment of vastness and glory. �They don�t know what is going on. What we are trying to accomplish.�

�And you do?� Kumiko�s voice was quiet and patient.

Ajibana did not calm down. The hidden meaning behind those words cut through him like sharp-edged knife. �We�ve been over this,� he began, but Kumiko cut him off, shaking her head.

�I know,� she said, �and I don�t want to talk about it.�

�Good,� said Ajibana, relaxing a bit, for he did not enjoy arguing with Kumiko. For one thing, she was older and tended to win most arguments. When he won the arguments, somehow, he felt like he had lost. And sunlight and flowers and bubbling rivers were closer to what he felt when it came it Kumiko. Not barbed remarks, angry words and grave reprimands. He would much rather just sit and talk to her about the weather, something that was pointless and gave him room to let his thoughts flow to wherever they wanted to instead of having to focus on something so hopelessly mundane as the affairs of the state. He discussed that with far too many people for any conversation regarding that to make much of an impression, or too great a memory. And with Kumiko, he liked to remember every moment, every feature of her face, every crease on her dress, every curve of her body...

�So,� he said, rather abruptly cutting off that train of thought. Where on earth, he would wonder, had that come from? He had known Kumiko for years and years, and he simply did not attach thoughts of passion and such matters with her. No, Kumiko was peace and quiet. She symbolized, for a man who had known nothing of the sort, stability. �What did you want to talk about?�

�The crowning,� said Kumiko, rather bluntly.

Ajibana seemed to be at a loss as to what to think about this. �What about it?� he asked, raising an eyebrow.

�Well,� said Kumiko, licking her lower lip, a gesture that Ajibana recognized as one of mild nervousness and tension. �I think it is too soon for the prince to be crowned. It�s been less than two days.�

�So?� asked Ajibana, shrugging. �How does that make any difference?�

Kumiko looked at him hard, for a moment, before answering. It was at times like these that Ajibana could be insensitive. So caught up with the big picture that he missed the little things, less important, but vital nonetheless. �It�s too soon for a boy of five. It would be too much to handle in so short a time...�

�Kumiko,� said Ajibana, in a placating tone, which made Kumiko frown and raise both eyebrows. He seemed to be under the impression that he had the entire matter sorted out. �It�s like taking a bandage off a wound. The faster you do it, the better...�

�No. The faster you do it, the more skin you rip off with it,� said Kumiko, in a calm, somewhat bland tone. �And that leaves a darker scar.�

Ajibana looked up at this, his dark eyes, almost black, meeting her lighter ones. Kumiko was an asset. She was brilliant, and looked beautiful enough for no one to suspect her. It indicated chances of betrayal. But he trusted her with his life. He would bare his chest and hand her a dagger if it did not involve having to remove the many layers of clothing on his body. Plus, there were scars on his body she knew nothing about. And he didn�t want to her see him. Somehow, while it was alright for women of far lesser a station to see him naked, it was not okay for her. He was too marred for someone who seemed as pure as she did. He merely raised his eyebrow at her, a silent acceptance of the flaw in his reasoning.

�I think,� said Kumiko, in a less bland tone, �that you should postpone it. For a week.�

�A week�?�

�Seven days, Ajibana, to let the wound heal,� said Kumiko, firmly.

Ajibana considered this. �I understand,� he said, and then nodded. �All right. One week before the prince is crowned.�

Kumiko smiled, and Ajibana turned away and looked out of the window once more. The silence in the room was heavy, full of crackling anticipation which Kumiko knew had its source in Ajibana�s excitement.

While on the outside, he was not doing much, inside, he was probably bubbling. Ajibana, Kumiko knew, had a desire to live life, and not to just exist, and this desire made every emotion more than just valid. Everything he felt, when he did feel it, was enhanced by his powerful will to feel. So right now, the air crackled with anticipation for him, and his eyes sparkled just a bit, as he looked out into the open night, at the outline of the snow-capped mountains that separated Tzorke from Lajandra. In the moonlight, they gleamed gently, tantalizingly. They were the barriers, challengers. They were the ones that set the limits, and Ajibana was crossing those limits. He was crossing them at that very moment, as Kumiko and he looked out into the night.

For the night had come and the attack was going to begin.

In fact, the attack had already begun.

The evening found Kin sitting in the throne room, utterly exhausted, quite alone apart from his usually wayward serving man, who was now sitting by his side, looking immensely shaken. Very drunk, of course, but very shaken. This sort of reassured Kin that he had understood what had been explained to him very carefully.

�There are soldiers in the woods.�

�Eh?�

�They will probably attack.�

�Does this mean war?�

Yes, this means war. And no, he could not drink through the entire proceedings, and would he please call the General of the Army, who Kin knew had been left behind to protect the palace.

For this, Kin was grateful. Of course, no one left the king�s palace unguarded during times of war, but this had, for some reason, not occurred to him. Like a lot of the young men of his age, Kin had deemed himself alone in the face of a crises this big, and so, the news that there were still a few soldiers in the Palace came as a relief. It was a single ray of hope in the general gloom.

The General had wanted explaining of the situation. By the time Kin was through, the man, quite considerably shaken, needed to told one more time, just so he knew that he had heard right. And before Kin was through, his mother walked in, demanded Kin explain what her serving woman had just told her. So Kin explained one more time. He had barely got to the part about Gushiken being a traitor, when his mother, panicking, slapped him.

Kin had stared at his mother, aghast, and she had stared back, patches of bright red high on her cheeks fading quickly to a wintry white, as she broke down, and wept.

And that was when Kin saw.

He saw that he needed to be the brave. That the General was waiting for him to tell him what to do. That his serving man was looking to him as all other people would for reassurances that the kingdom would be alright. That his mother needed him to be alright, to comfort her.

And so he did. He told the General that he would be there in a moment, and could he please draw up plans for the strategic protection of the Palace and the city while he came. And once the General left, he told his serving man to get his mother a shawl, deciding that giving someone something to do was likely to take their minds off the problem. Once he was gone, put his arms around his mother, and gave her reassurances of an order that he could not actually ensure.

And somehow, it worked. Somehow, he slid into a role that he had no idea how to fulfill. Somehow, he was in his father�s shoes, and he found himself putting up a calm fa�ade, a show of assurance and peace, while inside, he trembled and wondered what to do next.

His sister came in to discuss the plans with him, and he promptly sent her to her room. She needed to be told twice, of course. She always did. But she went anyway, realizing that Kin needed her to be a princess and not his sister, and that discussing the plan was a rather childish endeavor on her part to be involved with something she did not have the place to be involved in.

It was utterly unlike Kojishi to not do something she had no business doing, but then again, thought Kin, looking gratefully at his sister�s retreating form, it was also utterly unlike him to do all of this which was very much his business.

The General ran him through the plans and strategies, and Kin listened, trying to follow, and wondering, at the same time, if he could trust this man. He was a graying man whom Kin had never even actually met. He was a lesser commander than Gushiken, and somehow, that assured Kin somewhat. Kin could not actually explain how he got through the four hours after they had discovered that Gushiken was a traitor. He could not explain why he did the things he did, only knew that he had done them. They needed to be done, and so he had done them.

It was not over, he knew, as he sat there in the throne room nursing his head, his hand absently stroking the sword he was now carrying. It had barely even begun. Right now, he was waiting, just like everyone else, for the attack to begin, and for the General, whose name was Hikaru, to come to the throne room with a protector for his mother and sister. Kin knew that they had to leave. And he knew that he could not leave with them. It was not done for the prince, the crowned prince of any country, to leave at the start of a war.

Such a man, his father would have said, is not a prince. Such a man is a coward.

And Kin, suitably depressed poet or no, was not a coward.

There was a bang on the door, and Kin gestured towards it, a sign to his serving man to open the door. When the door opened, the thunder roaring outside startled Kin. He had forgotten that they were in the middle of a storm. Lajandra, at this time of the year, was generally stormy. But this year, it seemed that the wind was endeavoring to blow itself out or something.

�Your highness,� said Hikaru, who, after getting over his initial shock, had acquired a most proficient manner, and was now handling the defense part of the matter � which was effectively the entire matter, seeing as it was a war � very well, which made things much easier for Kin. �This is...� And his hand stopped midway in the air as he made to introduce the young man by his side, whom Kin did not have too much of an opportunity to observe. Kin�s breath caught in his throat. The serving man began to tremble and shook his head, murmuring the names of several Gods (most of which Kin was sure didn�t even actually exist) in panic.

And outside, a shout went up. Even over the roar of the thunder and lightning, even above the angry howl of nature�s instrument, the screams and shouts of the men and women were clear. The clashes of swords in between the rolls of thunder were evident. The young man who had come in with the General excused himself politely, saying something about protecting the princess, and left the room swiftly. Kin just stared at his General, who nodded silently, sensing the boy�s panic even though he did not voice it, confirming the worst.

The war had begun.

Kojishi lay in her bed, eyes wide open in anxiety. This was not good. And that was an understatement. There was, inside her, a desperate desire to run off with her horse through the storm to get to her father and tell him about Gushiken. The messenger had, of course, been sent, but this did exactly nothing to alleviate the worry Kojishi was now being plagued by. There were so many things that could go wrong. The messenger could be killed before he reached her father. Gushiken could get the message before the King did. And then what...? Would her father die?

And what about them? Her mother, and Kin, and herself, and everyone at the palace? If there were soldiers in the woods, soldiers from Tzorke, didn�t that mean that the war was about to begin? And if her father had left, with the bulk of the Lajandran army, for Lamarke, didn�t that mean that there were less than enough people here to protect them? Didn�t that mean that they would not be able to fight back...? Didn�t that meant that they would...?

The young girl closed her eyes and banished the thought. Don�t think about that, she told herself, and then aloud, �Don�t think about that.�

She sat up, tired of trying to sleep and not getting anywhere. Outside, she could see the lights of the guards� lanterns. It made feel a little better, knowing there were people guarding her. Nothing could go wrong, right? She was in her own home, in her own room. There were soldiers around, and it was not as though they were entirely unprotected. Nothing could harm her. Nothing could�

A babble of voices broke out suddenly. Kojishi�s eyes widened as she listened carefully trying to make out an intelligent word from over the storm. But success was not with her. A cry of pain, a scream of a dying woman reached her ears from outside the castle. She gasped and jumped out of bed. What in the world was going on? Was her tired mind playing tricks on her? Or� she gulped, and opened her door, shocked to see a group of woman, who worked inside the palace, huddled together, looking petrified. They gasped as Kojishi came out and then sighed collectively, relieved.

�What�s going on?� Kojishi questioned, trying, fruitlessly, to keep the quiver out of her voice.

�Lady Kojishi,� a voice spoke up from behind the group of women. Kojishi gazed at the speaker as she came into the light. Yume. Kojishi could have cried in relief. In times of distress, royalty were supposed to help out the people. Kojishi, presently, was too confused to help anyone. She wanted answers and Yume was the only one level headed and surprisingly calm enough to answer her.

�Yume,� she breathed, in relief. �What�s going on?�

Yume looked at her grimly. �We don�t know for sure,� she said, her voice low and calm, �but, we think,� she paused, looking at Kojishi. Kojishi raised her eyebrows. �Well, we think� that� Tzorke might have just launched an attack on us.�

Kojishi looked at Yume with big eyes and groaned. �Oh...�

�I think you should remain in your room,� said Yume, taking her hand firmly, and leading her back into the room. Kojishi let her. It was too much of a shock for her. War� it was a frightening prospect for the young princess who had known her kingdom to be in nothing but prosperous happiness.

�What about Kin?� she asked, as Yume took her into the room, and shut the door. �Where is Kin? And my mother?� Her questions tumbled out one after another, and Yume put a hand on her shoulder to make her stop. Kojishi was grateful; for in times of crises, she found it hard to stop talking.

�Princess,� said Yume, �I don�t know.� Her voice was calm. �I will go and try to find out. But please... please stay here.�

Kojishi nodded, and Yume left her with the promise of a glass of warm milk. A na�ve promise which brought false hope to the princess that things might not be so bad. Kojishi couldn�t care less. She was worried about her father and her mother. What about them, she wanted to know. What was happening to them? She longed to simply get up and run to her father�s room, but Yume strictly forbade her to do so. It was not safe, for her parents� room was on the other side of the castle. People ran up and down outside her room, and she sat there, huddled up in a corner, hugging her knees, and feeling, for the first time in her life, helpless.

Suddenly, there was a loud crash and a shriek. A male voice, loud and rough, echoed through the corridor. �Tell us where the princess is!�

Kojishi sat up, eyes wide. They wanted her. They had come for her. To kidnap her so they could demand ransom in the forms of the mines in Lamarke from her helpless father. She stood up, as a familiar voice answered, bravely, �Never!�

Yume� Kojishi�s heart went out to the loyal girl whose scream echoed through the castle the next instant. Stunned, more than anything, she looked around. She would not be taken prisoner. She would not be part of Ajibana�s to claim Tzorke�s throne and plunge the country into his little piggy bank. No way. She was Kojishi, the Princess of Lajandra. It was her job to protect and preserve the nation and she would do so, even if it meant jumping out of the window onto the ground, three floors below�

Or, Kojishi thought, looking down where the ground seemed to lurch like her stomach did in sudden, sick fear, not. That was not an alternative. She looked around again, for a weapon of some sort. Sweating profusely, she fumbled about her drawer.Where is it? Where is it!!! I KNEW I put it in here somewhere� where� OUCH!! Ah...

And so prepared with a small dagger that had been Kin�s gift to her three years ago (for she had shown an immense desire for one � �just like Kin�s� � when he had been given one for his birthday, seeing as he was beginning to turn into a man; of course, Kin�s own dagger had mysteriously vanished thereafter, but that, to be frank, is not the point) she backed up against the wall, beside the door, ready to stab whoever it wad that came in through the door. Hardly daring to breath, she listened as the people, whoever they were, banged open the in that corridor, killing anyone unlucky enough to be hiding there.

An insane fury swelled up within her. How on earth did they get IN here?

But as she listened, she realized that there were not that many of them. Only two... two people from Tzorke looking for her. Spies, her mother had said, and Kojishi absurdly wished she hadn�t argued as she stood their, trembling with unspent fury. Outside she heard the same loud voice boom. �She isn�t here either!!�

But she was here, right in the next room. The footsteps grew louder as her assailants came nearer and nearer. Her heart beat faster as she readied herself to kill. A cold sweat took a hold of her body as she realized what she was about to do. To kill someone was not something on the top of her �things-to-do-before-stargazing� list. Suddenly, abruptly, the footsteps came to a halt.

The gruff voice spoke up, anger oozing from every word. �Who are you?�

Whoever it was did not reply. There was a loud swishing sound and scream. Two thuds were heard in the silence that prevailed after the deadly scream. �Your death,� said a low, firm voice.

Kojishi, shaking now with fear of the unknown, clenched the knife tighter. Footsteps, soft and nearly unheard moved towards her door. In normal situations, she would not have even heard them. But fear makes one listen to the silence and watch the darkness. She closed her eyes as the soft footsteps came to a halt outside her door.

This is it, Kojishi. This is�

The door creaked open.

Kojishi lunged forward with her knife tightly held in her small fist. The intruder looked up, and swiftly, dodging the stab, grabbed her wrist, pulled her over his body, and slamming her onto the floor outside her room. Without thinking of how weak it would sound to wail before �the enemy�, Kojishi cried out in pain.

For some reason, the attacker let go of her wrist immediately. �Oh,� said the same, cold voice. �You�re the princess.�

Kojishi raised an eyebrow. �Yes,� she said, and then, perhaps out of annoyance with the pain in her back, she added, �nice to meet you too.�

The man held out his hand, and Kojishi, very disturbed by this behavior � attackers didn�t generally stop in the middle to confirm the identity of their �attackees�, now, did they? � did not take it. �Who are you?� she demanded, voice made stronger by the relief.

�Kojishi,� came her brother�s voice, suddenly, and Kojishi pushed herself up, gingerly, turning to look at her brother, who came running up, looking visibly relieved. �You�re okay.�

�Yes,� she said, and let Kin help her up. �No thanks to him...�

But Kin took her aback by embracing her suddenly and somewhat violently. And it was a mark of how much the anxiety of not knowing had taken a toll on her that she let him.

�Are you alright?� she asked him, as he let her go, and then decided that that was a stupid question. �I mean...�

�Tzorke has attacked,� said Kin, in a voice that was calm only because he felt that she needed him to be calm.

She hung her head, as the words registered.

�Kojishi,� said Kin, and now his voice shook only a little.

She looked up, and was shocked at the amount of stress she saw in his eyes. The amount of strain on his young face. She sighed. This was going to make everyone age in a time shorter than preferred.

Kin opened him mouth, and then closed it, deciding not to say what he had to, and then opened it again, to say, �Kojishi, this Jukodo Jin.�

Kojishi turned to see a man, a relatively small man, hardly taller than her. He was dressed in all black, his face covered too. Everything on his body was covered. Everything but hazel eyes, which watched her intently. Kojishi could tell he was just a boy, hardly older than herself.

�Forgive me, princess,� he said, bowing. His voice was low and firm, the one that had quietly said, �Your death,� during the small conflict outside her door. �I did not mean to hurt you.�

Kojishi bowed slightly, as dignified as her agitated nerves allowed her to be. �Jukodo,� she acknowledged.

Her brother spoke again. �Jukodo here will be your protector,� he said, looking at Kojishi as she whirled around.

�What?� she questioned, disbelievingly. �I don�t need a protector...�

�You are to leave this palace, Kojishi,� interrupted Kin, voice rising a little. �You are to flee. Flee this palace, flee this city. Go to some distant village, and be safe till the war is over.�

Kojishi�s eyes widened. �No,� she said, flatly. �I can�t leave you now. Are you mad?�

Kin shook his head. �You must go, Kojishi. You have to leave with Jukodo, and you have to leave now.� She opened her mouth to argue, but he silenced her with a look so desperate and so full of anxiety that she did not have the heart to argue. �Please.�

Kojishi looked at him, troubled. �What about you and mother?� she questioned.

�I have to stay here,� said Kin, feeling the burden of this decision now, more than ever. �I must protect the country in father�s absence. It is my duty. As is yours to leave. Go, now,� he said, giving her a little push. �Go to the Summer Palace� you should be safer there.�

�And mother?� Kojishi pressed on, a sense of great panic overwhelming her. Why wasn�t he telling her� why�?

�She�s gone too,� said Kin, not quite meeting her eyes.

Kojishi stared at him disbelievingly. �Kin...� she said, and shook her head. He couldn�t have just said what she thought he had just said� could he?

�You have to go, Kojishi,� said the boy, and nodded at Jukodo.

�Kin!� cried Kojishi, and shook off Jukodo�s hand on her arm. The protector took hold on her hand tightly this time, and forced her to move. Kojishi looked at Kin, eyes very bright with tears she could not shed because she did not know if she was to shed them in the first place.

�Take care, Kojishi!� cried Kin, and looked very much like he wanted to follow her. Keep her safe, he prayed, silently. �Don�t let them get you. Don�t break!�

Kojishi�s eyes were still on his, as Jukodo dragged her around the corner. And then she was gone, leaving behind a silence that deafened her brother, the wind blowing wild and cold�

�Take care,� said Kin to the empty corridor, where the dead bodies of women and spies from Tzorke lay bleeding. His voice broke, as he whispered, �Be safe.�

The storm outside the palace was loud and threatening. The wind blew so hard and fast that the lamps were all blown out. In complete darkness, Kojishi stumbled along, with Jukodo�s strong grip on her hand, pulling her along, not letting her pause for breath. Time was vital, and Jukodo knew its value. A minute here and a minute there would cost them dearly. And Jukodo was not in the mood to pay. So, despite the young princess�s breath coming in ragged gasps, he pulled her along, going faster than her stamina liked.

The numb realization about her mother had been banished by exhaustion and the bitter cold. Clad in nothing but her nightclothes and a thin, white robe of a material meant to beautify, not protect, she was freezing. Even though they were running very fast, the heat in her body simply would not build up to level high enough to match the cold in the air. Her hand, the one that was not in Jukodo�s firm clasp, was numb, and her feet, clad in delicate �princess-like� shoes, painfully iced up. There was a sharp pain in her joints, which made her gasp sharply with every step.

Jukodo seemed to know exactly where he was going. They met no one along the way, except a few dead bodies of people Kojishi knew she would have recognized had the ninja allowed her to stop and look. But he wouldn�t stop. With a determined expression on his face, he pulled her along. They turned around a corner and Jukodo suddenly stopped. And Kojishi bumped into him tiredly, nearly falling with fatigue. He neither steadied her nor did he speak.

As her brain began to process thoughts other than those that condemned the cold and Jukodo for making her run so fast, she realized why Jukodo had stopped. Facing them were three figures, taller then either of them, and much more muscular than Jukodo. Kojishi gasped, as Jukodo pushed her back and stepped in front of her. �Stay back,� he said in a low voice, before pulling out his sword.

The blade gleamed in the darkness. As lightning struck, Kojishi caught sight of the faces of their enemies. Apparently, they caught sight of her too, for one of them pointed at her and shouted, �The Princess!!�

Jukodo pushed her back hard as the three attacked together. Kojishi stumbled and fell over, shocked at the brutal assault they launched on her protector. All three of them were heavily armed and much larger than the young man, but he had a lot more skill, and was faster. His skinny, light body easily dodged their heavy blows, thus aggravating them further. Kojishi winced as she heard the sound of his sword slashing through someone�s flesh, followed by a loud inhuman scream of pain. A wave of sorrow, followed rather closely by a wave of nausea, washed over her. She didn�t want people to die because of her.

She could hardly see what was going on. Occasional screams of pain from the three large attackers, sounds of swords and daggers clashing and Jukodo�s foot connecting with someone�s skull were he only clues she had as to what was going on. She screwed up her eyes trying to see what was going on. There was a thud, and a cry of �NO!!� from one of the men. Another attacker let out a loud shout of frustration, which turned into a scream of pain. There was another thud, followed by a sound, one Kojishi couldn�t identify, and a loud cry of pain from Jukodo. Kojishi�s breath caught in her throat.

In the distance, thunder roared.

�Filth!� the man spat at Jukodo. �Tell your master that you failed.� � Kojishi could hear Jukodo�s breaths coming in ragged pants � �And that your princess has been kidnapped.�

With that the man turned towards Kojishi, who seemed to be frozen with shock and fear. �As for you, young princess,� he said, taking painfully slow steps towards her. �You are going to come in very handy. Both for Master Ajibana�s plan,� � Kojishi took a step backwards, gulping � �and mi��

His sentence was cut off, words caught in his throat. There was a painfully long moment, during which the man just stood there, a shocked expression on his face. Then, holding the blade jutting out of his chest, he closed his eyes and fell backwards.

A moment of deadly, deafening silence passed as Kojishi simply stared at the fallen man. Her gaze shifted from his face to his hands clasped around a blade thrust in through his back, penetrating his body. He shuddered, his eyes closed tight, and then with one final gasp, died.

Kin had turned and left as soon as Kojishi had vanished around the corner. Everything was happening so fast... he felt like he could not do justice to each moment of this day. His mother had died, and he did not have the time to grieve. His sister had left, and he did not have the time to sit and feel sorry for himself. It was better, of course, this way. Nothing should get in the way of duty. Not even the cold hand of worry and sorrow that had not gripped his heart so tightly that Kin could barely breathe.

General Hikaru had looked at the Prince of Lajandra as he joined him, a very white hand gripping his sword, and had not said anything. The man�s somewhat old face had lines etched upon it that spoke of more experience than that of his station, and he seemed to realize that Kin was a prince, and not a fighter, and that despite this, he had to protect his Palace and his country.

�Send the soldiers out to the city,� said Kin, after a moment.

The plan was not elaborate, as most plans tended to be. They would send out most of the remaining army to the city, and a few would remain in the palace with Kin and General Hikaru to protect the Palace, if the need did arise. Kin had suggested that they all go out, but General Hikaru had shaken his head, much to Kin�s secret relief. Trying not to think about that feeling of gratitude in the pit of his stomach, the one which sent thoughts such as �I am so glad I am not out there� into his head. Kin felt the guilt of being an utter coward, but did not � could not � crumble under the weight of this guilt.

Nor could he think about his mother�s body, lying dead in her room on her bed. They had arrived a moment too late, and her screams had stopped just as Kin entered the room, sword drawn. But it had not been him who had killed his mother�s murderer. It had been Hikaru, and for this, even, Kin was grateful.

The boy wanted to sit down right there and bury his face in his arms, and weep out of the misery and the guilt that was weighing down upon him, but there was no time.

�And tell the other soldiers,� Kin continued, �to take their positions. We must not let them take the Palace.�

Yes, we mustn�t� but how long can we hold out?

The question added to Kin�s burden, but he ignored it, and the General and he stood side by side, waiting for the attack to begin.

They did not have to wait very long.

Kojishi couldn�t think. She couldn�t feel any of the cold or fear she had felt previously. She felt only a horror, the horror of reality. Her hands were cold, and her feet numb, but she didn�t know it. She could barely remember Jukodo shaking her, snapping her out of her shock, and pulling her along again. She didn�t remember running through the kitchens and out of the trapdoor in the kitchen floor. She didn�t remember Jukodo pulling her out of the tunnel that led out of the palace. She didn�t even remember then bumping into another bunch of soldiers. But when she saw the predatory looks the men cast her and Jukodo, and heard the clashing of the swords, she looked away, hugging herself tightly, trying to block out the sound of death.

And as she looked away, she noticed, for the first time that her beautiful city, the city she had run through in delight so many times, was in turmoil. The wind swept down upon the flames which continued to burn stubbornly against the waves that tried to put it out. People were running from here to there, everyone was in a panicky condition. Soldiers on horses bent down and cut through innocent bodies, piling them up as though they were a heap of rubbish. Kojishi�s eyes widened as she watched a soldier catch hold of a baby and toss it into the fire, killing the mother afterwards. She gasped as she saw a burning house tumble down onto the street, trapping three women under it.

In this chaos, in this turmoil, in this wrecked city, her green eyes searched out a small narrow lane. Unnoticed by the soldiers, in this lane sat a young boy. A young gaunt boy with the eyes of a man, whose look of hunger was now not that for food. Tears streamed down his cheeks, shining in the light of the fires burning through the city. Kojishi�s eyes widened as she recognized the boy.

�Kazu��

When Jukodo was finished, there were bodies everywhere. His muscles screamed for a moment to sit down and rest, but he ignored it. He was bleeding from several places, but it would heal, like everything else did. But some wounds never heal� Looking around at the five soldiers from Tzorke, his eyes narrowed. Was it sorrow? Was it pity? Was it anger? It was impossible to tell, for Jukodo remained cold and impassive.

He turned around. The princess was gone. �Damn,� he cursed in his low voice, his hazel eyes scanning the area in search of the princess calmly. Tiny bits of debris on fire fluttered around him, and the people of the city ran frantically, searching for a place to hide form the terror, from the soldiers who simply poured into the city from a source no one could locate. They seemed be all around them.

In the chaos, Jukodo nearly missed the princess. He probably would have, had he not been trained so thoroughly to make sure every detail mattered. Jukodo was no ordinary soldier, for any ordinary soldier would have dropped dead a long while ago. He spotted her with some difficulty, standing next to a young, skinny boy in a small lane. �Damn,� he cursed again, assessing the situation in one single word.

�Princess Kojishi.�

Kojishi turned to see Jukodo standing behind her, an expectant expression on his face. �Jukodo,� she said, in a low voice, and he could tell she was holding back tears.

�Princess, we must leave,� he said, gently, yet firmly, with a touch of annoyance in his voice. There was no time for feminine tears.

Kojishi looked at him a long time before answering. Her eyes were full of unshed tears, and behind then Jukodo could see a strange mingling of emotions. Fear, anger, hatred, love, determination. He knew what was coming next, and he knew there was no way of avoiding it.

�Kazu will be coming with us.�

Kazu looked up, surprised, and opened his mouth to say something, but Kojishi shook her head, and put a finger on his lips. �He�s coming with us,� she repeated, firmly.

�Ah,� said Jukodo, looking utterly unsurprised. Nodding slightly, he bowed, and began walking deeper into the lane. Kojishi followed him, knowing they were heading towards the forest. She knew the streets better than anyone else. She, who had been running around unrestrained in these streets for her whole life. This was where she had been born, and brought up. This was her home. And she was now leaving it all behind to burn like the fearsome depths of hell.

The street ended at a clearing, the same clearing, in fact, where Kojishi and Kin had been quarrelling in this very afternoon. The shack in the distance was burning wildly. Kazu looked at it for a long moment, before Kojishi took his hand, and led him to the forest. A great cry rose behind them, and they all turned around abruptly, shocked at the sounds.

�The Lajandran soldiers,� said Jukodo, softly, as though trying to explain what was going on. �We must leave.�

There was a note of firmness in his voice, which left no room for arguments. Kojishi nodded and turned back around. A moment later, Kazu followed suit. They did not talk, for there was nothing they could say. Before they entered the woods, Kojishi turned and looked once more upon the Palace in the distance. Then she turned, eyes shining with tears, and disappeared into the forest with Kazu by her side and Jukodo leading the way.

The Tzorkian forces simply poured in from everywhere, and Kin realized, with something of a shock, that they had not only been hiding in the forests, but also been concealed in locations all around the city. In fact, by the way they were pouring in, the city was surrounded.

What in the world is Tzorke playing at?

But the question went unanswered, as the prince was forced to raise his sword and defend himself.

And from that moment, through the longest night Kin had ever lived through, the battle raged on. The soldiers just kept on coming, large and small, slow and fast. All were well-armed and well-trained. They were men who had been hardened by war and a country whose climate furiously lashed out against the land. They were strong men who did not care what they cut, or who they killed, as long as they did not harm someone from their own country. They were united men, men who had gone through years of training together, and regarded each other with brotherly love and compassion.

And they made their way through the city and the palace like wild fire, spreading fast and destroying everything in its path. The city was burning, and the horizon glowed gold and orange and bright red against the darkness of the night.