by Karma
"I want you to see something," her dragon said to her. Even though he could not love her, they still spent time together, when they could, surreptiously, as friends. His dark blue eyes glimmered with anticipation.
"What is it?"
"It is my gift to Chuukei. Lately, he has been morose and quiet. He�s been trying to learn how to play the instrument that our grandfather had but has learned that he has no aptitude for music. Furthermore, Shukukei and Kikei keep running off to play somewhere else, so he has been left alone while I attend to family duties with Father." He guided her hand to another room and paused before opening the door. "It�s not really a thing, but a person," he said, drawing out the suspense to annoy her. "I bought him from someone else." He opened the door and the two of them entered.
Leaning against the window was a very handsome male. He looked relaxed and was toying with a harp in his hand. He smiled at them upon their entrance, and he moved to bow. Her love stopped him. "No need," stated the eldest dragon. He indicated towards the instrument. "But would you mind playing a small piece for Her Majesty?"
The minstrel nodded and shifted into a more comfortable position. He brushed back some of his dark, red hair from his face with his left hand and moved to play.
Each delicate note played in the ear, echoing like the lost voice of a spirit. She was impressed, but more so when he began to sing. His voice rang clearly and sweetly, hitting each note perfectly. Every second, every note, every word, everything, made her forget who she was and feel only the music. It made her regret that she would not be able to reproduce such musical beauty, even with the instrument of her choice. Simply put, he was gifted, and very much so.
When the last echoes of the melody faded away, she applauded. It had been a short song, only a few minutes long, but it seemed to last much longer. The musician smiled and gave her a graceful bow. "I am honored to have played for you, My Lady," he said, with great charisma. She smiled. He was very charming.
"You play beautifully." She looked at the eldest dragon. "I am quite certain that Chuukei will appreciate your gift to him." The gift was not so much the person as the music.
"Oi, Aniki."
"Yes?"
"Shouldn�t we be running?"
"No. Niisan�s still a while away. If we run now, we may get tired. We�ll run the last two miles, walk until then."
"Ok."
"Niisan?"
"What?"
"What do you think of this place?"
"�It�s very beautiful."
"Aniki?"
"What."
"Does it bother you that we�re asking so many questions?"
"�No."
"Good."
"Niisan?"
"Yes."
"Um�never mind."
"What?"
"Never mind."
"Aniki?"
"What?"
"Hm...never mind."
Tsuzuku sighed. Evidently, his brothers were so bored that these stupid and pointless conversations were the only thing that kept their attention. The red dragon was leading the party, while the other two walked behind him. Although he couldn�t see their faces, Tsuzuku knew that Owaru and Amaru were grinning at each other. Owaru�s plan, no doubt. Amaru�s too sweet to come up with something like this on his own. Owaru�s going to be such a bad influence on him. Actually, he didn�t mind it so much, mainly because he was simply glad to have them near him again. Although this *is* getting a little irritating. Just a little.
"Niisan?"
"What?" This time, Tsuzuku turned around to face his youngest brother. Amaru wasn�t looking at Owaru for cues or at the road ahead of him. Instead, he met his older brother�s eyes and smiled sincerely.
"I�m really glad you�re not hurt." His face was serious, lacking the previous mirth he had received from irritating his older brother.
Tsuzuku smiled. Amaru really was sweet. He tried to express how glad he had felt when he had saw them as well, but could not find the words to say it.
Owaru answered instead, slapping an arm around his younger brother. "Amaru, you�re our protector!" He grinned at Tsuzuku. "Aniki, he�s right. If anybody hurts you, we, the two youngest Ryudo brothers, will promptly kick their asses!" Amaru nodded seriously, while Owaru just laughed.
"�Thanks." It almost made him worried, about what circumstances prompted his youngest brother to say such things. The brothers usually did not express verbally their feelings. Except, of course, Amaru, who probably was the only one that ever said anything like it.
"So, Aniki?"
"Yes?"
"Never mind."
"�" Tsuzuku sighed.
"They left?"
Arslan nodded. "Something came up...I�m not sure I understand, but evidently, someone was injured and they went to find him." The prince was chatting with Darun and Narcasse in the strategist�s room. Arslan had went to the latter�s room to discuss a few details regarding the upcoming battle. He had been pleasantly surprised to see Darun there as well; it made certain details easier to discuss. Although I am a little surprised to see him here so early. But it made sense, that Darun had details he had to sort out with Narcasse as well, regarding the soldiers and the like.
"I see," said the strategist. Thoughtfully, he brushed back some of his long, brown hair behind his shoulder. "What a pity. Tell me, what did Your Highness think of them?"
"I thought they were nice." And handso--what am I thinking? Distractedly, Arslan rubbed the temple of his forehead. "Guibu has told me a few things about the oldest that were pretty unbelievable, if I had not witnessed the two youngest driving off the Turan army."
"Indeed, they appear to possess great power." Darun looked slightly worried. "They did lie to us, however, and so there exists a large possibility that they�re a threat."
"What--?" Why didn�t I think of that? Why was I so trusting? Somehow, though, he doubted that they were. "They did defeat both Silver Mask�s army and Iltorisha�s...and in doing so, they have saved many lives. Other than the small lies regarding their past, they have not given us any reason to suspect that they were enemies." Why do I not want to believe it? What�s wrong with me? Deep inside, however, he felt that he was right. It was the same feeling that he had before, when deciding whether or not he would trust Jaswont to join them. And now, I�m *very* glad I made my decision. Jaswont is one of my most loyal allies, and very reassuring to have around. Although he fights a little too much. He recalled finding a sleeping Jaswont outside of his door and it almost made him laugh.
"True. But with such power...I wonder where they attained it. Its possible that they�re working for another, still unknown, enemy." Narcasse looked contemplative. "We should keep our guard around then, if in the case that they would return. Just to be precautious. There�s a rumor that Hermes has a dark magician working for him--it is possible that they are something similar. Such strength in children is not normal." He changed the subject. "What does Your Highness think we should do with Princess Ilina?"
"Well, with the news received of the king and queen of Maryam, we certainly cannot send her back..."
Narcasse exchanged glances with Darun. They do that a lot, Arslan realized. They check with each other before bothering to tell me anything. He felt a little...hurt. And irritated. I never noticed before, but they have a tendency to look at each other before explaining anything to me. I don�t know why this is bothering me. He felt like shouting �Just tell me already!� but resisted the urge. I�m glad they�re on my side. Narcasse�s intelligence, Darun�s courage...I am grateful for both. Why am I getting so angry? I have no reason to. But he knew; though he tried to deny it. He did not question Darun�s loyalty. He knew that the Black Knight was more loyal than any other in the kingdom was. If...if it was a life and death situation, and Darun had to choose which of us to save, me or Narcasse, I have no doubt that he would save me. But...but...he would really be wishing that he had saved Narcasse. The introspection disturbed Arslan, though more with sadness than anger. "What is it?" he asked, resigned.
"I am not certain if Your Highness was aware...But Princess Ilina was betrothed to marry Prince Hermes." The strategist watched the prince with his dark brown eyes.
"What?"
"Apparently, Hermes and Ilina had fallen in love in Maryam. The king had disproved of the relationship, and Hermes had left."
"I see." That�s so sad... I wonder what he was like, that she could fall in love with him. Arslan knew him only as the angry, murderous being who wanted to take over the Palse country so badly that he betrayed his countrymen. Although he has good reason to, seeing as to what my own father had done to him and his father, the real king. If the rumors are true, he reminded himself. He was starting to develop a headache.
Darun glanced worriedly at Narcasse. They both knew how compassionate the prince was, and knew he would not receive the next news well. But they had to tell him, else he make a mistake later. Darun tried first. "Your Highness, it may be cruel, but..." his voice trailed off, he knew the prince would be horrified and did not want to see him thus.
Seeing his friend�s difficulty, Nacasse continued. "It may be a good idea to keep her here..."
"That�s no problem, is it?" Why does Darun look so worried? "We have enough supplies and she�s a wonderful person."
"...in case we need to use her as a hostage against Hermes."
Arslan looked at him violently. "We can�t do that! It...it...it�s immoral and..." Watching as Narcasse was going to protest and not wishing to hear it, Arslan moved on quickly. "Besides, if he sacrificed this much for the throne, I doubt using a hostage would help. And I can�t stand the thought of hurting her, just for a threat!" He was almost pleading with Narcasse now. Don�t talk don�t talk don�t say it, don�t tell me why we have to!
"Your Highness..." Darun ventured to place a comforting hand on Arslan�s shoulder. The prince flinched and moved away. Don�t touch me. Don�t try to convince me using our friendship, don�t do it.
"I understand that we�re at war. But to use someone like that, to use someone�s love for another like that. It�s wrong. It would be like bringing down a village to get my attention, like what Iltorishaa did. It�s unethical." Arslan felt like crying. I won�t do it. It�s not right, it�s not right. I�ve never experienced love myself-- it must be a precious and rare thing. To use it to hurt some others. Isn�t that an abuse of love? To use it to hurt others-- love should help and heal others, make them grow for the better, not hurt them.
Darun�s head was bowed and his eyes were closed. Narcasse waited until the outburst was over and pressed on. "We�re saying, in the case of extreme emergency, Your Highness. In case we lose the war to Hermes, it can be a last advantage."
"No." The prince�s voice was soft and firm. "If such was the case, if Hermes finally wins, then there is no point in making him angrier by threatening the one he loves."
"Then, as a reassurance that we won�t lose the war..."
Arslan sighed. No. It�s a matter of principle, he wanted to say. But he knew that Narcasse was rarely wrong about anything. He was also afraid that if he continued in this manner, continued sticking with ideologies in war, rather than practicality, he might make a mistake. I don�t want to lose Narcasse�s respect... But it *is*, war, where principle and outcome rarely mix well together. So, this is war. He felt like laughing. This hellful, murderous thing where we loses ourselves, lose who we want to be, lose everything, simply for the outcome. But...I have to try... "If such a situation arose...then, we�ll reevaluate our options," he assented. He felt weary, tired, like another part of him had just died.
Narcasse nodded. He knew that it was the most he could get out of Arslan and he liked the response that he had gotten.
Arslan left the room, feeling drained. The day was just beginning, and he was already dreading the rest of it. Not feeling like meeting anybody at the moment, he skipped around the main hall and headed towards the garden, where attendance by the others was rare. The sun warmed him as he stepped outside and his spirits began to lift. It reminded him of the dream he had today-- not that he could recall what it was about, but the earlier peace returned to him. There�s a lot to do today, but it can wait. What he felt like he needed was a few moments to himself, to sort things through. Or rather, to forget, just for a few seconds, the responsibilities that he had.
The condition of the garden surprised him. No longer was it the thriving place of beauty he had seen when he first entered. He looked at the vines that surrounded the entrance and found the plant to be fading into a sickly-brown. It�s been neglected. Because of the war--water supplies are kept for soldiers and there are not enough men to spare to tend it. The previous melancholy returned to him. He walked a few more steps into to the garden, saw other plants in a similar condition, and turned to leave. Suddenly, he became aware of a sound, a beautiful melody. Curiosity overtaking his temporary depression, he ventured to discover its source.
He found that he was not alone in his inquiry. Approaching cautiously and stealthily, Arslan spotted Farangis, watching the source of the sound-- Guibu. Farangis was hidden from his view, just as Arslan was hidden from both. He watched with amazement as Farangis watched Guibu. She did not have that sickly-adoration that Alfreed had when she spied on Narcasse. She did not have Eram�s admiration when he spoke to the brothers. Rather, she leaned against the monument that hid her from view, her arms crossed, looking thoughtful as she glanced in his direction. After a moment, she turned her head away, and looked in the opposite direction, apparently listening but no longer looking. The large equestrian statue, of Lord Quishward�s father, kept her in the shade while she hid.
Realizing that she might spot him and not wishing to embarrass her, Arslan also ducked behind a statue as well, this one of Lord Quishward�s grandfather, standing with his sword arm raised. A small childish delight began to spread within the prince. I�m spying on Farangis spying on Guibu! He felt like laughing, but refrained for fear that they would catch him.
Not for fear that they would punish him, but because they would stop what they were doing. Everybody seemed to put up a front before the prince. He knew why, and knew it was natural, but he wished that they wouldn�t. Even his closest friends, Darun, Narcasse, Eram, Alfreed, Farangis, Guibu, Jaswont...all of them watched themselves whenever they were around him. Even if they were not aware of it themselves, even if they did so unconsciously, they tended to...not be themselves. Like they didn�t trust him. It�s not their fault, he knew, but still... Sometimes they dropped their masks, some more often than others did. Like when Guibu made up his mind and left, without fearing that Arslan would try to stop him. It was one of the reasons why he liked the minstrel; Guibu tended to act himself. I think he�s not acting. Either that or he does it so well that I don�t notice. Sometimes it�s easy to tell, with Guibu it�s not. He recalled Guibu�s responses to Farangis yesterday. Maybe he�s been acting all along.
Acting or not, this was the first time that Arslan had heard the minstrel play. How strange...I knew he was a minstrel and yet I have not heard a single song from him until now. He listened, and enjoyed what he heard. Guibu was very gifted. The melody played beautifully. And then, Guibu sang.
The minstrel has always had a beautiful, melodious voice. But while singing, it almost seemed magical. Arslan stood there, stunned, listening with amazement and admiration. He really is gifted. He strained his ears to hear better, the music enveloping him and Guibu�s voice lifting.
Abruptly, the song ended. Did he see me? Arslan glanced over and found Guibu taking a moment to stretch his arms. "I suppose it will have to do," the boy prince heard the minstrel say. "It�s a lovely little piece, appropriate, and has often been one of the village favorites. It�s short enough and comforting for the occasion." The minstrel brushed his bright, red hair from his face and leaned backwards, enjoying the feel of the sun upon his face. He glanced in the direction of Lord Quishward�s father. "All right you, come out now. I�m done with my free performance and I don�t plan to charge you, so have no fear from me." His tone was slightly condescending, and Arslan doubted that he knew whom he was speaking to.
Calmly and proudly, Farangis stepped out from behind the statue. Arslan heard a sharp intake of breath, indicating the minstrel�s surprise. The boy prince watched with amusement.
What is *she* doing here? No one ever comes here. I thought it was Alfreed or Eram. Recovering his wits, the minstrel smiled at the priestess, attempting to mask the shock from his face. "Good morning to you, my lady." He felt a little nervous; it was the first time, as far as he knew, that she had heard anything that he played. Nervous? In front of a woman? Of course I�m not nervous, he reassured himself. "Did you enjoy the performance?"
"I suppose, Guibu, that even for a man that has as many vices as you, there are some redeeming qualities after all." Farangis stood a few feet before him, her arms folded across her chest and a slight breeze playing with her hair. She was amused, not smiling exactly, but not frowning either.
He gave her a slight bow. Ouch. "I�ll take that as a compliment, my Lady Farangis. How your words of praise make the morning so much more beautiful."
"What occasion is this that you speak of?"
"...The funeral today. This is for the funeral for the villagers today, as requested." He added quickly, for fear of making her feel left out, "Although I doubt anyone would object if you played your flute as beautifully as you did at the funeral for the Lusitanians."
A flash of annoyance upon her steady, green eyes. "That song was for not for the attendees, but for the spirits of the dead, to aid in guiding them on their journey to the next world..." her voice trailed off with realization. "How would you know, Minstrel? You had already left us by then."
Silently, Guibu cursed himself. His mistake. He had been there when that particular castle had fallen to the prince�s army; he had even shot an arrow, there, himself. Not that any of the prince�s men had been aware of it at the time; he had been a far way off from the castle. But anyone that put Farangis in danger... Farangis had just noticed when the man fell. She did not ask who shot the arrow, although she did look behind her, from the direction where it came. He had left after the battle, but when his eye caught the smoke the next day; he had gone to investigate. And found the bodies burning, as the prince had been kind enough to throw a funeral for his enemies. And there, during the eccentric and compassionate prince�s enemies� funeral, he had watched as the beautiful priestess had played am intricate piece on her flute. It was beautiful, and he had enjoyed every minute of the funeral.
His silence was angering her, he realized, and he hurried for a response. "My lady, if you played your piece on the other side of Palse, I would hear you. I can always hear you. I can always hear the songs of beautiful women." The last part slipped out by mistake, he regretted it immediately.
"You- you were there? You went to the funeral, although you had already left?" Her voice hardened, she was angry now. "Although you deserted the prince before his next battle, you came to the burning of the bodies of his enemies? Even though you had no right to be there, you came?" She calmed down and looked at him with an unreadable expression. "As usual, Guibu, you never fail to lower my expectations for you."
"No right? What right does any man have, to be at the funeral of the people he killed?" The response cut into Arslan�s heart, as the minstrel angrily spoke back. "If anything, I had more of right than any of you-- the murderers gloating over the bodies of the dead." Arslan began to shake. Stop it, I didn�t mean for them to die, stop it!
"The Lusitanians of that castle had the option of surrendering if they wanted to. The men chose to fight to their deaths and the women chose to throw themselves off the tower with their children. They had that choice... Of course, seeing as how you were not there, how could you be expected to know?"
"How could you possibly expect that they would surrender? The Lusitanians would never surrender to "heathens." If any of you had a spark of reasoning, you would have known. It�s a well-known fact; Narcasse must have mentioned it." He did...Narcasse had told me that they would not give up that easily. Why didn�t I listen? Why did they force their children to jump? Arslan covered his face in his hands, reliving that moment watching as the Lusitanian women jumped to their deaths. Please...stop.
"What they chose to do, they chose to do. It was their choice." Farangis� voice was filled with anger and disgust. "You were not there, you know nothing of what happened." She turned away from Guibu, stopped and looked at him, one last time. "Good day to you, minstrel. I shan�t deprive you of your foul company any longer." The words echoing in the air, Farangis angrily stalked out of the garden.
Guibu sighed. Smooth, Guibu, smooth. As usual, you are your own charming self. Unhappily, the minstrel moved to leave the garden as well. He was almost at the entrance when he realized that there was someone else still in the garden. Glancing around, his eyes caught hold of blue hair. Oh no.
Not daring, but doing so anyway, he moved toward the upset figure hiding behind Quishward�s grandfather. Prince...
Arslan was hugging both his knees, leaning against the statue. His head was bent down, but his body was not trembling, so Guibu assumed that he was not crying. At least, he hoped not. But at that moment in time, the boy prince looked just like that -- a boy. We're not supposed to ever consider them as children...so, we ourselves forget. The minstrel was uncertain of what to do. Should I treat him as a child? As a person, an equal? In the old days, doing so meant death. But the old conservative idiot of the king is gone... and he knew that Arslan would never intentionally hurt someone. I have nothing to fear. His decision made, Guibu moved to carry out his actions. He sat down next to Arslan. He did not dare to touch the prince; there were just things that were ingrained as forbidden within him, but he sat closely besides the boy.
Arslan looked and saw, with horror, Guibu. He knows I was spying. He gave the minstrel an awkward apologetic smile. Oh no.
"You heard?"
The prince gave the slightest of nods.
"Everything?"
"Most."
Guibu was relieved to see that the prince had not been crying; for his eyes did not have the slight red indication nor his face the marks of tears. And his voice is steady, which is a good sign. He forced himself to smile -- he had been forced to amuse others before and his skills remained with him still. "Well, my prince, did you enjoy my music?"
Arslan nodded, and smiled slightly. "It was beautiful. I have never heard anything like it before."
Guibu grinned. "I am pleased you think so, Prince. Shall I play another?"
Surprised, the boy prince nodded enthusiastically. The minstrel scooted a little further from him, in order to give himself more room for playing. Something happy... Guibu chose a simple, happy piece and played for a few minutes. It was a jovial tune, and he was pleased to notice as Arslan perked up a little. I hope this lifts his spirits. He played the short piece and then ended it at its conclusion. He smiled at the prince and let a peaceful moment of silence pass between them before deciding to speak. "Are you upset?"
Arslan, looking down, gave a vague nod of his head and then a slight shake.
"My prince, what I said there to the Lady Farangis was said to upset Lady Farangis."
"What do you mean?"
"Regarding the Lusitanians. It was said to anger Farangis, because she is so easy to anger." He sighed inwardly. "The Lusitanians would never surrender. But that castle was not theirs in the first place. It was a Palsian castle, and many a Palsian blood had been shed to attain it was well."
Arslan said nothing, but listened attentively.
"Would you like to hear a secret?"
"What?"
"I was there when you first attacked the castle. I even shot an arrow and killed one of the soldiers there."
"What? But we didn't see you."
"I left afterwards. But the you do you know why I followed, Prince Arslan?"
The smallest of smiles appeared on Arslan's face. "To see Lady Farangis once more?"
He's good. "Yes...but that was only part of the reason. You see, I had trouble leaving."
"..."
"I had trouble leaving because you are a most worthy being to follow."
"..."
" My Prince, the Lusitanians would not have surrendered. But Farangis is right; they were given the option to surrender, which was more than what they gave to the Palsians that they took the castle from. No one is more compassionate towards his enemies than you are Prince Arslan. You gave them a choice and what more, would have actually carried out your word which is more than what can be said of your ancestors." He wondered if the last part was too daring, but continued anyway. "The castle had to fall, you were doing only what was necessary. But you attempted to save lives and that is what sets you apart from your predecessors." He smiled a genuine smile for he was speaking the truth.
"You are an eccentric, idealistic prince. But you are the only prince that I have ever met where I thought, 'If we were to die for people, then perhaps it would not be too bad to die for him.' Of all royalty sang of and that I have met, you are the most worthy of your throne."
"Thank you...I'm touched beyond words..." Arslan almost felt like wiping away another tear, but for different reasons. It felt good to hear those words, to know that someone believed in you and what you did. Arslan smiled. "Thank you, Guibu."
The minstrel grinned. "Thank me for speaking the truth? You are a strange prince indeed."
"What now, Aniki?"
How should I know? Tsuzuku thought unhappily. The three brothers stared at the edge of a very steep and deep cliff. Knowing where his brother was located was one matter, finding the right path to him was another. Currently, the nice, vague general direction they had of their brother had led them to a cliff that overlooked an entire valley. Worse yet, their brother was not in the valley, but a still while yet beyond it.
"It's not that steep," said Amaru. "We've done worse. We can do it, Niisan."
Owaru picked up a small rock and hurled it off the cliff. "We can try running down it."
Tsuzuku looked down. The cliff stretched on for at least another kilometer. The rocks below were of different lengths, resulting in something that, if jumped, could be a very painful greeting from the ground. It was true that, due to the nature of their gifts, none of them had ever broken a bone in his body. Tsuzuku, however, did not have any trouble imagining that this was a good place to start doing so. To any normal human, attempting to descend the cliffs was clearly out of the question. To the Ryudo brothers, it was not a question of impossibility, but of risk. The last thing I want is the broken bodies of any of us, or, worse yet and more likely, the appearance of dragons. Both would result in an innumerable loss in time. And yet... looking for another path down would waste so much time.
He sighed. "I'll go first. When I reach the bottom, Amaru, you next. And then Owaru."
"You gonna run, jump, or climb?"
"All three." Tsuzuku moved to descend.
The funeral, for all its simple processions, took up most of the day. The villagers had solemnly and reverently moved to place the body of loved ones one by one. The ritual was the same: a moment of silence, followed by the sounds of moving feet as the family of the deceased (what was left of it) lovingly placed the body besides the others in a slow line. The sun seemed uncommonly bright to Arslan, as he stood there respectfully watching. It's so sunny. He felt a little numb, having nothing to do but watch as the area of bodies grew. Many lives were saved...but not all...
The prince lost all sense of time as the funeral proceeded. He gave a small speech that moved the mourners to tears. Then, the village head gave a speech, next the village priest, and then the bodies were laid. Then, lines formed to drop off flowers and pay respects to the dead. He really did not want to, but the thought came unbidden to him anyway. What a waste of time... He grew upset at himself for thinking such thoughts. Stop it...What AM I thinking?
The bodies were burned in the funeral pyre and afterwards, Guibu played a song. It was the same that he had played in the garden, and Arslan listened attentively. It was the only thing that he had enjoyed at all about the funeral. He watched, amused, as his other friends were pleasantly surprised at Guibu's gift of music as well. So, I'm not the only one that never heard him play. I wonder why he never played for us before? He has had many opportunities...for all the moments he had shared with us before he left, he never played... Gradually, Arslan began to feel himself a little more energized. While watching the funeral, he had felt like he was not even there, just a ghostly specter feeling restless and...empty. Now, the prince began to feel more like himself. The funeral was finally over, and many of the villagers were beginning to leave. A few of them that recognized the minstrel paused to say a few words before moving on; others refused to even look at him. Guibu, nonchalant, continued to play.
Arslan realized someone else was playing as well; Farangis, the same piece she had played for the Lusitanians. Surprised, he waited until she was finished before going over to speak with her. He approached her quietly, and smiled at here when she was finished. "That was beautiful, Farangis."
Farangis nodded her thanks. Her eyes were on Guibu, as the bard began a third song. The priestess turned her attention to Arslan. The prince looked tired and melancholic. His eyes indicated how weary he felt, and she wondered how often they appeared so. "Thank you, Your Highness."
Suddenly feeling the need to make conversation, Arslan indicated in the minstrel's direction. Eram and Alfreed were now talking to him, while he continued playing. "He's gifted, isn't he?"
"Everyone has some special talent, Your Highness. It appears that this may be Guibu's." Is that approval or not? Arslan wondered. With Farangis, it's hard to tell. But he recalled her previous conversation with Guibu earlier and realized that it *was* a compliment. What a strange choice of words for approval. "This is one of the first few times I�ve heard him play," Arslan could not resist saying. "Have you heard him play before?" Stop it, Arslan. Don�t tease her...she might know that you were there this morning.
"Twice before. Once today and another when I first met him." Arslan wasn�t sure, but he could almost swear that, for a brief moment, she looked softer at the memory. But then, whatever he saw or thought he saw was gone and quickly replaced by her usual calm exterior.
"Really?" I wonder what he played for her. Probably a love ballad. Arslan suppressed a smile.
"Well, this is a first," commented Darun. Both the prince�s champion and strategist joined Arslan and Farangis.
"Indeed. He�s not too bad at all." Narcasse watched the minstrel for a few moments before turning his attention back to the prince. "Your Highness, I hate to interrupt, but I�m afraid we should probably start the preparations for our meeting with the beloved Iltorisha."
"Already?" asked Arslan, reluctant.
Narcasse studied Arslan in surprise for a few minutes before continuing. "I�m afraid so, Your Highness." He glanced at Darun, who also watched the prince with concern.
"I see." Arlsan motioned to the others that they were heading back. Another battle...more deaths, more blood, and more tears...
"Where are you off too, my dear?" She asked her husband�s child. Rarely has she seen him so happy, smile so often, and laugh for no reason. Rarely, as well, was he missing from his room so often.
"Just going to take a walk, Onee-sama." Only in privacy did he call her "Older sister," for doing so in front of others meant that he disrespected her, which he did not in the least. When it was just her and him, he was free to call her whatever she liked, she did not care. She was, after all, not the boy�s mother; and was much too young to claim that she ever was. He had just dropped by for a visit, she got visitors so rarely, and was preparing to leave. He gave her a quick hug. "I heard that the Blue Dragon was visiting today," he whispered in her ear.
Her heart quickened. "Where did you hear that?"
He grinned impishly, irritating and delighting her at the same time. "From a reliable source." He drew back. "He should be arriving soon, so I shall not stay here any longer." He gathered his things and prepared to leave. Suddenly, a burst of energy took to him and he waved to her as he ran out of the room.
She heard a loud thud. "Silly boy, I hope he�s not hurt." How strange it was too see him so energetic. She quickly exited the room as well, to investigate the noise.
There, sitting on the floor, was the second oldest Go brother, the Red Dragon. He appeared in a daze while he stared at her "Otouto," her husband�s child. The latter was on the floor as well, recovering from the shock of the collision. Behind the Red Dragon stood his brother, the Blue Dragon.
"Ah, I�m so sorry!" apologized the blue-haired, blue-eyed boy. "Are you hurt?"
"I�m fine," said the younger Go. He waved his hand in dismissal at the accident and looked curiously at the person who ran into him.
The emperor�s son bowed once more, in apology. He nodded at the oldest Go brother and walked quickly away.
"Who�s that, Your Majesty?" asked the Red Dragon.
She was surprised at his question. And even more so when the look on the Blue Dragon�s face indicated his ignorance as well. Did no one know the emperor�s son? She was about to make a reply when she saw the being spoken of freeze in his tracks and look at her, shaking his head frantically and pleadingly. Unaware of the being behind them, the two oldest Go sons continued to look at her expectantly for a reply.
"He�s...just a friend." She realized that they had never been properly introduced and wondered why her husband�s child did not wish for so.
When they had finally reached their brother, the sun had already begun to set. They found Hajime, holding a very pale Matsuri.
"Hajime-niisan!"
"Aniki!"
"Niisan!"
The three ran to their brother. Despite what was said earlier, the three had been running the last five miles. The site of their cousin and brother, however, gave them another burst of energy as they ran faster than they ever did before, stopping at the oldest�s side.
Hajime looked at them wearily, but smiled in greeting. He looked back down at their pretty cousin, drawing all eyes there as well.
Matsuri was pale. Upon her face could be seen the remains of tear marks. Her eyes were closed, and she breathed slowly. She was slightly dirty, her hair messy and her clothes stained.
"What happened, Aniki?" asked Owaru with concerned eyes.
Hajime shook his head. "The journey here...where ever �here� is, was quite taxing to her. The force of the explosion on the ship, combined with the movement through time and space, took its toll on her. By the time we landed here safely, she was pale. The next morning, she caught an illness that left her weak." The older Ryudo closed his eyes.
"Despite all this, she insisted on moving around and helping me look for food and for traces of you. She pretended that she was strong, although I could tell by the way she frequently rested, that she was not."
"That evening, the second day we were here, I left to catch some food to eat while she left to gather firewood. She stepped into a hole that had been covered by leaves and sticks -- some kind of poacher�s trap -- fell, and struck her head on a stone. BBy the time I had found her, she was like this and her health has been steadily declining since."
Hajime looked apologetically at Amaru. "I�m sorry I frightened you in the dream. I was near panicking by then and needed to know where you all were."
Amaru gave him a squeeze on the shoulder in reassurance. Owaru watched him as well, while Tsuzuku watched his cousin. She�s very sick...she doesn�t heal; like we do, the dragon blood in her from our aunt was diluted by that jackass of our uncle and, as demonstrated by this, she is not the incarnation of a dragon. Consequently, she�s very mortal, or at least in this aspect... He looked at his older brother. "What can we do, Niisan? Do you have a plan?"
Slowly, the eldest dragon brother nodded slowly. "I have a plan, but I don�t know if it will work and I need all your cooperation in order to follow through with it."
"You know that whatever it is, Niisan, we�ll be willing to do it."
"Don�t say that, you don�t even know what it is. I want all of you all to listen carefully to what I have to say and then give me your honest opinions. I don�t want you doing this without knowing what�s involved."
"Ok..."
"I think what could speed Matsuri�s recovery is energy. As we are right now, however, we cannot give it to her."
Does he mean...? "Go on," urged Tsuzuku.
"I think...if we all became dragons, the extra energy released in the process can be gathered, changed, and given to her in a more useful form. I�m not going to lie, this is probably not going to be very easy, nor enjoyable. Furthermore, I�m not sure how much energy can be gathered from each. If I am to convert and gather the energy, I alone will not change into a dragon... I want all of you to think about this carefully and state your honest opinions. I can�t say I know all of the risks involved, and I�m not even sure this will work." The eldest dragon looked at his siblings.
"Aniki, how can you even ask us to choose? You KNOW we�ll say yes." Owaru grinned. "I�m in."
"Amaru?"
"I want to do anything I can to help Matsuri-chan. I�ll do it," said the youngest dragon bravely.
Hajime looked at Tsuzuku. I don�t like turning into a dragon, but if this is what it takes to save her... The second oldest nodded. "Even if it doesn�t work, we have to try."
"It�s the Palsians! They�re attacking!"
"Wait, something�s not right!"
"Where�s general Jisma!?!? He lied, that bastard dog!"
"Bu-but, it�s not possible, they�re not supposed to attack this early!"
"You idiots! Stop! We�re killing each other!"
Like a charm, Narcasse�s plan worked out beautifully. Arslan waited until the confusion was at its maximum, and then gave the signal to charge.
"We should probably take off our clothes first." Amaru indicated the clothes that he was wearing, some suit that the young prince had kindly given to them the night before. "I don�t want to tear this, this is nice."
Removing his own tunic, Tsuzuku agreed. The three youngest Ryudo brothers stripped to their flesh. They looked at Hajime.
"Black Dragon King of the North Sea, it is I, your king! Heed my call and free yourself!" Amaru screamed in pain and ripped into his dragon form, a giant black dragon.
"White Dragon King of the West Sea, I command you! Join your brother!" Owaru screamed. It was his first transformation.
Tsuzuku shivered. "Red Dragon of the South Sea, your king speaks! Return to your true form!"
Oh gods it hurts it hurts it hurts!!!
He screamed in pain just as he screamed in joy of being freed.
She looked up in the sky and saw dragons. In the midst of the battle, while watching men of the same company slaughter each other, she had glanced briefly at the sky and froze. Dragons. Three of them, in the distance, shadowed and partially obscured. The pale moon of the night briefly reflected off parts of their scales and that was how she saw them; moving together, dancing together in the night sky.
"My Lady Farangis!!!"
Startled, Farangis turned, and was suddenly greeted by blurred vision in her right eye. Beads of a dark, crimson fluid splattered on to her. With her left eye, she saw Guibu standing still, a look of surprise upon his handsome face and the metal tip of a long, sharp, wooden spear protruding from his chest. He jerked backward suddenly, as the now weaponless Turan soldier tugged on the back hilt of the spear, in a futile attempt to retrieve his weapon that was so well embedded into his enemy. The soldier tugged again, but the weapon did not come out as easily as it went in.
"Guibu!"
The soldier cried out as steel entered his body as well, knocking him down and cutting into his flesh. Farangis caught Guibu as he toppled over from the lack of force that had been, seconds earlier, been pulling him backward.
"GUIBU!!!"
Farangis became aware of Darun, on horse, behind the fallen Turan soldier. He had been the one shouting, she realized. The Black Knight looked at her, forcing his own emotions under control. "Get him out of the battlefield and see what you can do for him." He did not want to leave, he wanted to stay with their fallen companion, but they had to win the battle and he had to protect the prince. He hesitated on leaving her alone with the dying man but was reassured when Melain appeared by her side. Darun rode off.
Melain knelt by Farangis' side. "Should we move him?"
"We shouldn't, it would only make his wound worse. But if we stay here, he may get hurt again."
Melain nodded. He stared at Guibu for a few seconds, knelt near, and picked him up. One arm behind his neck, the other around the back of his knees. "Where to?"
Farangis wiped the blood from her face. "Under that tree." She indicated a place that was far enough out of the battlefield to be safe, but close enough to watch. "We have to be on guard." Silently, the two figures, one carrying a motionless third, moved towards the tree.
It did not take very long to reach their destination. Softly, Melain placed him back on the ground. Farangis knelt beside him. Gently, she lifted Guibu's head and rested it in her lap. "Guibu, can you hear me?"
The minstrel opened his violet eyes. They were very bright and clear; never had she really taken notice of them until now. Beautiful, bright violet eyes. "Yes, my lady," he breathed out slowly. "I can always hear you."
How can I not hear you, when you are so near? Guibu shifted in an attempt to feel more comfortable and was rewarded by a sharp pain in his stomach. Farangis, you're so beautiful. You always are. She smells so nice. He wanted to tell her how he felt, how he had always felt. You're special. I fell in love with you the moment I saw you but you never took me seriously and so I could not take my feelings seriously. I've been with many before but I have never felt this sensation with anyone else. Why you? For you, I join a war, for you, I die. He struggled to speak-- to say *something*, for he knew his time was near and he had to tell her.
He heard Melain's voice. "Guibu? We're going to remove the spearhead. Don't move." He felt cold, felt Melain cut his shirt into ribbons with a small dagger. He didn't care. His eyes were on Farangis. He wanted to meet her eyes, but she was not looking him. She was watching Melain, as the bandit attempted to carefully remove the spearhead.
"We'll need something to stop the bleeding," he heard her say in that melodious voice. He heard a ripping sound and glanced in the direction of the source. Melain tore off part of his shirt and carefully tied it around Guibu as tightly as he could, which was not very tight because part of his shirt was not long enough to fit around Guibu's frame. Guibu watched the bandit and felt like laughing. Look how serious he is, poor boy, he probably never laughed in all his life. Even a stick like Darun laughs with Narcasse, but I doubt Melain had ever done so. He wanted to laugh to make Melain laugh and so Guibu began to laugh.
"I think he's delirious," he heard Melain say. I hear you. I'm not deaf. "Here, take his head," he heard Farangis say. He felt hands gently lift him from Farangis' lap. Out of curiosity, he opened his eyes. With a small dagger, Farangis carefully cut off the legging of her right leg. "This should be long enough to tie around him." Guibu felt her hand on him, as she tied the fabric as tightly as she could around his two wounds, in an attempt to stop the bleeding by applying pressure and holding it in.
"If we had some herbs..." But they had none. Even the peace of the night was denied to them, interrupted by the cries of men as they fought and slaughtered each other.
"For now, this is the most we can do," said the deeper voice. "Here, apply pressure, like this. It might stop the bleeding." Guibu felt pressure at both his back and at the front of his chest. He struggled once more, and succeeded in keeping his eyes open. "Hello," he managed to greet them. Please look at me, Farangis. Her eyes met his, her beautiful dark green eyes. "Guibu, you fool," she told him, without any reproach in her voice. I know. I'm always the fool. "My lady...you look beautiful under the moonlight." Not just under the moon...but always. I was wrong once more. You are more beautiful than the princess, more beautiful than any other female that had ever walked upon this earth.
"Guibu, why?"
Why? How could she ask a question like that? Why what? Why he dove in front of the spear, instead of killing the soldier himself? Why she was looking at the sky so intently? Why he loved her and loved her still, although she never gave any indication that she reciprocated his feelings? Why he was always with so many women, why she of all women caught his eye, why she was the only one that changed him? Why Melain was so serious? Why Arslan was so lonely? Why he had felt so compelled to help Tsuzuku? Why he was dying when he had a great love for life and she had enjoyed it less so? Why she never liked him at all? Why she looked so worried? Why, why, why, why...So many whys...which one did she want answered? It didn't matter; he couldn't answer any of them. He chose one randomly and replied. "It's because he's never been in love."
He watched with amusement, as she looked puzzled. Ashi, he loved to tease her. "Melain never smiles because he's never been in love. If he falls in love, he would change. He would find himself smiling when he thought of the one he wanted to protect the most. He would get distracted, thinking constantly of the one he loved. He would feel a fool before his love and yet, he would still smile because it is impossible not to smile at the one you hold dear." Slowly, a smile formed on the minstrel's lips, and he watched the one that he held dear, though she never felt the same. He smiled because everything about her-- her spirit, her strength, her beauty; everything about her made him smile.
Why are you smiling at me so?
My prince, it is because I love you.
Must not fall asleep. Don't fall asleep. You have to tell her, before you sleep.
Beautiful woman! Most beautiful woman in the world!
Are you referring to me?
He felt cold, she was so far away. He willed himself and forced his eyes to open. He watched her, her face drawn in an expression of worry and fear. Such a face does not become you, My Lady. A smile upon your lips is more beautiful than a frown, like a peacock is more beautiful than a pigeon. "My...Lady...Farangis..."
She attempted to quiet him. "Save your strength. Lejendra and his army have arrived, the Turan army has surrendered, and Melain went to go find the others. They'll be here soon."
"You...always...make...me...smile..." I love you. Say the next part, it's the most important. SAY IT! But he could not find the strength to and darkness swept over him.