It was the same today as it had been yesterday; it was probably the same as it would be tomorrow.  Nothing ever changed here, except for the minor fluxuations in the family fortune.
	That was all that mattered, here.  Fortune.  If only he could receive luck of another sort, besides money...
	"...Heads a well-respected family in the royal court, but he has always been known as a man who likes to increase his fortune when possible.  According to his letters... but you have seen them, haven't you?"
	Namame bowed his head in affirmation, a tiny pinprick of impatience trying to break through his calm.  But he was careful to keep it in check, stiffening his face into the familiar mask of deference that so charmed his parents into believing he was their precious, obedient son.
	... And telling himself all the while that the old man would get to the point... eventually.
	His father's intentions were obvious; the family was about to encroach upon his time yet again, and make another demand of him.  And while he didn't mind helping from time to time - it got him out of the house, after all - they seemed to have forgotten how to take care of their own matters.  Why do it themselves, when they could simply use him instead?  He was a dutiful son, so surely he must be /more/ than happy to accomodate their whims.
	They were more than lucky - Genbu had blessed them with a life most people could only dream of.  But they weren't happy with it.  What on earth made them think that more /money/ would make them happy, when their lives were so empty to begin with?
	"... I want you to close this deal with the Liu family.  Keep the advantage, if at all possible, but a simple contract will do for now.  All we need is permission to work across their holdings, and we will have more than enough to fulfill our end of the bargin."
	A glance up revealed the thin, bony frame of his father bent over a desk and sifting through papers, his back turned to the rest of the room.  Just as it was turned to everything else... the silken elegance of the robes hanging from his shoulders seemed to encompass his entire world, sometimes.
	"You've written them out already?" Namame ventured softly after a few moments of silence, hands sliding into his sleeves.  "What if Liu's circumstances change, between now and my arrival in the capital?  If I may ask."
	There was another pause, as his father seized upon a sheaf of papers and reached for the ceremonial wrapping.  "Then I expect you will know the proper modifications to make, son.  I ask only that you work as closely with these terms as possible in the event of a change."
	Of course.  It would be a shame to lose a few pennies.
	Perhaps it was unfair of him to criticize so harshly, yet... his father did nothing but try to turn a profit somehow, somewhere.  His mother seemed obsessed with taking advantage of that profit by constantly hording dresses and jewelry, and his sister...
	Well, girls that age /should/ be looking to get married he supposed, but he doubted any man would want a dim-witted wife at his side for eternity.  And his few attempts to teach her more than basic arithmatic had met disaster - on her part.  Her limited ability to /listen/ seemed to have come from their father.
	What was there to praise?  They had certainly succeeded in becoming rich... Namame himself had never lacked anything /material/...
	But there was nothing spiritual about this life.  It was like skating over the thin surface of water, feet dipping in now and then, but never penetrating into anything important.  No depth, no warmth, nothing to savor.
	Nothing except his books, and the silent knowledge they imparted.  Nothing but those few, precious moments before Genbu's shrine, where, just for a second, he had felt almost special.  Important.
	The offering of the letter - wrapped in deep green and silver - interrupted Namame's thoughts.  He lifted it from his father's hands, inclining his head again in thanks and rising to his feet.  The letter in his hands - slight, its wrapping soft to the touch - meant less time studying, and more time wasted.  He was tempted to refuse, but... that would not be wise, after he'd given his word to help.
	He hated traveling...  The season was wrong, and he was willing to bet the servants had neglected to pack any /books/ along with his luggage.  Another hour would be wasted, while Namame attempted to remedy that oversight.
	But, it would get him out of the house, and away from his family for a short time.  It was a small happiness...  But thank Genbu for small blessings...


	Pale, greyed sunlight cut through the carriage's curtains, even that litte bit bright in contrast to the darkness within.  It looked to be yet another greyish winter day, but to eyes just awakened from troubled repose, any sunlight was a miserable surprise.
	It seemed almost... unreal, a mist over Namame's gaze, blinding him to the reality of the interior around him; it also smacked faintly of ice and green, though the former wasn't any surprise -- this was Hokkan, after all.  Ice was the country's main commodity.
	'Green'...  Genbu?  It was the obvious choice... but no.  The god had no reason to speak with him.  Only Miko would ever speak with the god, wherever and whoever she may be.
	Perhaps it had been a dream?  With the sunlight shining directly into his eyes, it was no wonder he was assaulted with different colors every time he blinked.  Coupled with the rhythmic sway of the carriage, it was a wonder he had not grown sick yet.
	//Let it rest... let it rest...//  He'd begun to put too much store in his dreams, thanks to his sister's babbling...  She seemed to enjoy targeting him, in particular; the character they had discovered on his body during his childhood was her favorite subject when it came to her silly superstisions.
	But he did feel odd...  Not sick, and not tired, though he had just awakened from a rather unrestful nap...  Just different, as if a puzzle-piece had clicked into place in his mind, and he had only to figure out which one it was to understand things...
	How long had they been on the road, now?  Two or three hours at most, he thought, by the slant of the sunlight.  Not long...  And there was an old Genbu shrine not far from their current position...
	Surely his father wouldn't mind if Namame sought the god's blessing before going on to close such an important pact, now would he?
	"Kouru-san!"
	Namame jumped at the sudden call, a hand flying to the hilt of his sword before his mind caught up with reality and stilled his fingers.  "What is it?"  He withdrew his hand and leaned forward, parting the carriage curtains to peer outside.  "Is something wrong?"
	Kori - one of the few trustworthy guards - acknowledged his appearance with a slight, mocking bow and gestured to the road.  "No, nothing is amiss.  But I thought I should inform you that we've received word of a blizzard further on down the road - it was suggested that we detour, or stop here until it passes over to the east."
	A blizzard?  How convenient...  "Who gave you this information?"
	"An old man passed by while you were in contemplation.  He had no reason to lie, and the formation of the clouds up ahead confirm his claims."  The other shrugged, turning away from the road again to peer at him.  "Are you well, Kouru-san?  You..."
	"Pull off the highway, then, and veer to the west until you find Hiryuu Rock."  Namame waved Kori's concern away and leaned back again, letting the curtains fall shut.  "Inform me when we reach that point, if you would be so kind..."  If the guard replied, Namame didn't hear it.
	It was no bother... Hadn't he intended on detouring anyway?  The blizzard was simply a suitable excuse to visit the abandoned shrine... perhpas from Genbu, or not...  But he was grateful, either way.
	He'd made his reluctance to meet with Lord Liu known before leaving his father's home, though it had made no difference.  This upcoming mmeeting had to be done, but it certainly would not be enjoyable.  The man was known for his wealth, yes, but also quite a few other, more unsavory things... shocking, if they were true.
	His wife was young, perhaps almost too young... his staff was comprised mostly of...  Namame shook his head, a slight shudder trying to make its way along his spine.  They were all rumors, only that... and he knew better than to trust the integrity of rumors.  However...
	...  No, he would not think about it.  He would only avoid House Liu as much as possible, and remain in the city rather than accepting any hospitality from the Lord.  It would be understandable, he hoped...
	And if not, then his father would have to live without the deal.  He was only willing to go so far to advance his family's holdings; if it required him to compromise himself for any sort of profit... it would not be done...
	His mouth twisted sourly, and he leaned foward to part the curtains again, closing his eyes as fresh, ice-tinted air washed over his face and send his hair drifting on the current.
	How did Liu manage it...?  If the rumors were true, that is.  Were they hidden so well from the Emperor and his family that risk of justice was low, or was it simply beneath concern?
	No... no, he would leave this matter to others.  Power of Liu's sort would hold no sway over him - if nothing else, his marking would protect him.  It had before... why not now?  Noblemen had no power over the rule of the gods.  And if Genbu decreed that he suffer...
	Well, then Namame would find a way around it.  He revered the god in his own fashion, but he was not above showing a little disrespect now and then if it kept him from... misfortune.
	"Hmmm..."  Namame tilted his head back, letting the sharpness of the wind graze his neck, and seep through the confines of his garments to cool his skin.  He'd over-dressed, anticipating a more frigid reception than he had received at the start of the journey.  "By that logic, I should be free of Father's yoke... now shouldn't I...?"
	His whisper was lost to the wind, and his agitation with it.  Much better to contemplate his dreams than to torment himself with worries he was not sure were even based in fact.
	A shout went up at the head of the small column, and after a few moments the carriage began to change course, veering back to the south and west.  And just in time; as the column moved to complete the detour, the brush of wind from the north bore just a hint of moisture to his nose, just a touch of frozen air...  The nameless traveler had been correct, apparently... there /was/ a blizzard up ahead.
	The sound of someone approaching - Kori, shouting his orders - stilled Namame's thoughts and he leaned back again, holding the curtain's open in anticipation of the guard's arrival.
	A fleeting glance of Hiryuu Rock caught his eye, and a sigh escaped his lips before he could catch it.  A sigh of relief -- he was being called, for whatever reason...  Whether to the shrine or something else he did not know, but the ghostly remnants of that dream finally drifted away...


	"The watch is posted, Kouru-san.  Do you have any further requests?"
	"Not at the moment," was Namame's soft reply.  He waved Kori away with a pale hand, his other closing over the pouch hanging from his sash.  "I don't want to be disturbed.  Anyone who comes into this chamber for less than a dire emergency will sleep with the horses."
	A faint snort of amusement and the faint creak fo armor as the soldier bowed were the only response.  That, and the welcome sight of the doors clicking shut behind Kori.  Blessed silence followed.
	He waited a few moments, until the faint whispers of sound from the other side of the door died away, and then turned on his heel to face the front of the shrine.  Almost unconsciously, his fingers worked at the knotted pouch strings until he could pull it loose.
	This hadn't ever been a wealthy shrine... it was obvious by the trappings left over from who knew how long ago - his childhood, he supposed.  Back when worship of Genbu had been stronger, this chamber had been overrun with nature, the walls and carving of Genbu nearly invisible for the foilage... He remembered, vaguely, visiting the very same week he had discovered his marking.
	But it was gone now.  Everything was... dead, decayed to the point that had he not remembered, he never would have known the chamber was a place for nature, rather than dried wood and peeling gold leaf.  The only thing he recognized was the representation of Genbu at the back wall, and the altar sitting below it.
	Well, that was enough for him.  It provided the means to complete his intentions, and that was all he needed, really.  Genbu would forgive him for the lack of luxury, he was sure.
	Namame padded across the room, the leather-covered soles of his boots hardly making a sound on the wooden floor and its peeling varnish.  But despite its disrepair, it was quite sturdy -- solid enough that he winced as he knelt before the squat altar, and wished that his robes offered a tad more padding in return for their bulk.
	"I offer my respects..." he whispered, hand reaching into the pouch at his side.  Pine and musk drifted into the air as he drew his fingers out, and sprinked the incense into the bronzed groove on the surface of the altar.  "And my steadfast faith.  Lead me as you will, and only grant me the strength to face your trials along the way."
	Eyes closed, slender fingers poised just above the fragrant powder, Namame centered himself and tried to focus his chi, letting his sense of the world around him fade away as he sought an ever-elusive power: heat.
	Fire was not meant for Genbu's stars, and his was weakest of the bunch.  "Na" was positioned in the higher quadrant of the sky, and pulled to inner power rather than physical manifestation.  He did not fully understand his own power, but he knew he would never serve his god as a warrior... though that seemed to be what Genbu was going to need most if things continued as they were.
	After a few moments - seconds, minutes, hours... he never knew which - he felt the pattern of chi he wanted and channeled it through his fingers until he felt the heat take and begin to sustain itself under his fingertips.  It slipped away as soon as he relaxed his concentration, but his effort had been enough; lazy strands of pine-scented smoke curled around his fingers when he opened his eyes, and he removed his hand before the heat emanating from the bronze could become unbearable.
	Exhausted, he bowed his head, hands resting on the floor and palms flat, as he leaned forward to pay his respect to the god.  And his energy, as well... fire was most definitely meant for others.
	"Please, grant me enlightenment... let the destiny I seek find me at last, so I may fulfill my promise of faith."
	He'd felt another stirring today, another unnamed feeling, and it /pulled/ at him, though Namame couldn't for his life figure out why, or where he was supposed to go.  But it knawed at his mind constantly, leaving only when he tried to pinpoint the sensation, and figure out what it was.  Worldly knowledge did him no good - this was beyond that boundry.
	So who else to turn to, but Genbu?  Namame bowed again to the likeness of the god, looking up through a curtain of ebony-shadowed hair to gaze upon the carving.
	It was only a carving...  The god's presence seemed faint even to him, or what he /thought/ might be a presence.  Perhaps it was in his mind, and he did not know it... and he imagined even that was denied to most of Hokkan, now.  He could understand the complaints of the people and the hostility toward what must seem like a non-existent god.
	But couldn't they be a little calmer about it?  The ridiculous conflect between loyalty and not - what he'd seen in Ara, anyway - was vulgar and irritating.  A person's beliefs should be kept private, not thrown to the public in the form of ill-planned speeches.
	But what could one expect from the uneducated masses?
	After what seemed like an eternity - or perhaps it was only a moment - the incense began to taper off and fade, leaving only phantom tendrils of smoke and pine-touched air to prove it had been there at all.  The steady heat from the bronze dish also began to fade, and Namame took that as his cue to rise, with one last bow offered to Genbu before he tied the pouch to his sash again and turned away from the altar.
	There was no reason to remain thre any longer... but Namame felt reluctant to leave, almost.  His prayers had been finished a long time ago, but their peace had never left him - not yet.  It wrapped him in dim silence, teasing his mind with the faint memory of this place that he'd held since his last visit.  His only visit, rather -- his family was far from faithful to the old ways.
	Well, Kori had promised he would not be disturbed... and in fact, most of his escort wouldn't dare enter far into the temple, though they had grudgingly agreed to take shelter within its walls.  They didn't believe, and his 'odd habit', as his father called it, only added to their discomfort in this place.
	So... what would it hurt, to stay just a little bit longer...?