Takeo's Chronicles, page 71
These were Krunk’s best years, and as such, were a bitter sweet moment. Takeo most certainly felt that.
Gavin would feel it more, of course. The knight and the ogre shared an unlikely kinship, being raised in the same orphanage by the same elderly gnome. It had been Gavin’s idea to track down and bring Krunk with them, to give him a life and an opportunity he’d thus far been unable to find. When—for there was no if—Krunk died, Gavin would mourn for quite some time.
And Takeo felt that. As he imagined that time, he felt Gavin’s pain, or at least pain at Gavin’s pain, and he took solace in that.
Then Takeo realized it wasn’t just Krunk he felt for, but Gavin and Nicholas, as well. Sure, Nicholas wanted to die, or more specifically, die a glorious death that would make him a legend, but Takeo still wanted Nicholas to survive their ordeal. He was Emily’s little brother, after all, and Takeo had promised Nicholas’ mother to keep the man safe.
And Gavin, oh Gavin. Just the thought of the knight dying brought a numbing pain to Takeo’s heart. Worse yet, he thought of the senin’s warning that if Takeo lived to see Gavin’s death, it would only be because Takeo was the one who wrought it. When they’d first been told this, Takeo was certain he could do such a thing. He even considered it mandatory. Takeo was dedicated to his goal, which he considered greater than any individual’s life, especially his own. Yet now, that didn’t seem right. As Takeo gazed upon Gavin teaching this young girl how to fight, Takeo felt a change in his thoughts. He didn’t see a warrior embracing death like himself. Gavin wasn’t like that. He was warmer than that, better than that. Gavin didn’t deserve the death that Takeo did. This knight was a man of love—no, he was a man in love, and a father-to-be at that.
Takeo blinked in sudden realization.
I’ve been looking at this all wrong. I can save people. I should save people.
Gavin wasn’t like Krunk, doomed to die before the age of twenty. Gavin wasn’t like Nicholas, hopelessly addicted to the afterlife. Gavin was nothing like Takeo, who was a cold, soulless entity carrying all the sins of humanity.
I deserve death, but not him. If there is any among us who should live, who deserves to live, it’s him.
Senin’s premonition be damned.
Chapter 10
Takeo arose while it was still dark and slipped away from his tent quietly, ever aided by Nicholas’ heavy snoring. He made for the woods, avoiding the sentries he’s placed just as the watch switched. The guards were always least attentive then, bored from lengthy periods of staring into pitch black. Yet still he went cautiously, stepping with all the care and ease of a master ninja. Once within the confines of the dark, overgrown trees, he made a sharp left and circled the camp. Once on the opposite side, he found a place to hide and settled in, just behind a waist-high bush in full bloom with an adjacent tree to rest his back against. The most difficult part would be not falling asleep again. A heavy anticipation of what was to come lent aid.
He was long in waiting, as expected, and she did not come quietly as he had. She made no effort to conceal her movements, letting her clothes brush together and the dirt grind under her foot. However, neither did she exaggerate to draw attention to herself. She simply was, and Takeo heard her coming long before her saw her.
She came to a stop at the same tree Takeo was using for cover. She made a show of looking left and right, and then stepped behind the bush to squat down.
“You sure took your damned time,” Yeira whispered.
Even in the low light of early morning, one could sense her beauty. Upon hearing Yeira’s voice, the lovely image of her face swam into Takeo thoughts. He closed his eyes and tried to push it out, but allure was a stubborn creature that begged for attention. He’d had similar issues with Heliena, as terrible as that was to admit. Yet another thing he’d never told Emily.
He had lied to her too often.
“I couldn’t come to a decision,” Takeo replied. “And it seems like you couldn’t either.”
Yeira took a deep breath and let it out in a soft groan, both conveying her thoughts to Takeo and adding to her squatting façade.
“I can’t believe it’s been a month already,” Yeira said, a tick of panic running through her words. “At first I was worried he’d find out, but he’s oblivious. I could keep this guise up another two months, I swear. I’ve always thought Gavin’s naivety adorable, yet now I find it fortunate.”
A smirk pulled at Takeo’s lips. “Really? He hasn’t said anything? He hasn’t noticed a lack of womanly bleeding?”
“He doesn’t keep track of that stuff,” Yeira said. “As I’ve been putting on weight he’s been far more interested in, well, my other things growing. His eyes haven’t made it below my chest in a while. He jokes that my curves are turning him into a lover of heavy women.”
She was glowing, and seemed about to continue but then paused, stifling her next words. Takeo contemplated pushing her on, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. This conversation was difficult enough as it was, treacherous enough as it was, without him prolonging it.
“Well, you still want my advice then, I take it?” Takeo whispered.
“Please,” she begged. “I can hardly sleep at night.”
“I think you should tell Gavin,” he replied.
Takeo wasn’t sure what Yeira’s response would be, but he certainly didn’t expect stark silence. The kshatriya didn’t even breathe as far as Takeo could tell. He wasn’t sure what to think of that.
“Why?” she whispered, so soft he almost missed it.
“I can’t make this decision in Gavin’s place,” Takeo said. “Even if you know what he’ll say, what he’ll do, and you don’t agree with it, he still deserves to know. This is his child, too, Yeira.”
“Takeo, no,” she shot back. “How can you say that? You of all people? Gavin told me about how you convinced him to lie to me, a lie that cost my sisters’ lives. Don’t think I didn’t find out.” It was Takeo’s turn to go cold silent. Yeira pressed on. “I’m not falling for this Gavin deserves to know crap. If that was true, you’d have told him yourself. Besides, I didn’t ask you if I should tell Gavin or not. I asked you if I should keep this baby. What do you think?”
Takeo blinked and drew his head back against the tree. The low light of the early morning was underway, a warm glow of red and orange through soft clouds that begged any passersby to stop and appreciate it. Juatwa was such a vain land, yet Takeo couldn’t criticize it. He was naive, too, in his own way. He should have known Yeira wasn’t going to make this easy. She’d hid her secret from Gavin for this long. What made Takeo think his simple line could make her change? He’d have to elaborate.
“I think you should keep it,” he said.
“What? Why?” Yeira replied, lightning fast.
“Do you question all advice you ask for?” Takeo shot back.
“I will when it’s stupid,” Yeira rounded on his heels. “I can’t keep this baby, Takeo. I told you already. Gavin will make us leave. He’ll ask me to, and I can’t. I will, but I don’t want to. I don’t know the first thing about being mother. I don’t know how, or if I can. And what about saving this world? Isn’t that far more important? I can’t abandon that. I can’t let it go. My sisters . . .”
She trailed off, cutting her voice before it rose too high. Chances were high someone had heard her already. Hopefully they thought she was just a mad woman talking to herself. Takeo strained his ears to listen for anyone that might be near. He heard nothing.
“Why did you ask for my advice if you were just going to argue with me?” Takeo whispered. “What were you hoping for? That I was heartless ronin who’d make the hard decision for you?”
Yeira went still, and a stab of pain went through Takeo’s heart. Is that all I am to people? A monster to unleash on their problems? He looked away from her.
“Please,” she whispered. “I’m not trying to say you’re wrong. Just, convince me. That’s all I ask.”
Takeo buried the pain in his heart with ease, swallowing it into the endless void where he’d cast all emotions of late. He thought on Yeira’s words, and how much he could tell her. He weighed that against how much he wanted to sway her decision, and then realized this was a battle he couldn’t afford to lose. Too much hung in the balance.
He’d have to tell the truth.
“Has Gavin told you about the senin on the mountain?” he started.
“Yes,” she replied, voice low.
“What did he tell you, exactly?”
Yeira paused, collecting her thoughts. “He said that’s where you two decided to undertake this quest. He said the senin warned that you two would succeed, but that one of you would die.”
Takeo waited to see if she’d finish the prophecy, but nothing more was said. He huffed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. A chuckle lurked in his throat, and he would have let it loose had it not been so sad. It seemed that even Gavin, the knight of the angels, had limits on honesty.
“There’s more to it, unfortunately,” Takeo said. “The senin didn’t just say that one of us would die, but that it would be the other who killed him.”
He let the words sink in. Once an acceptable fact of war now seemed an unspeakable atrocity, and his silence was penance for daring to speak such heresy. Yeira surely felt the same, as the only thing heard from her was a harsh swallow.
“That can’t be true,” she whispered, apparently short on breath. “Gavin loves you.”
“And I am him,” Takeo replied. “It wasn’t always so, but it is now, and that changes everything.”
Yeira turned around, facing Takeo for the first time. The soft brown of her eyes drew him in, and he found himself unable to look away. She grabbed the collar of this kimono and pulled him close, begging.
“It’s a lie,” she whispered.
“Maybe, but I can’t take that chance. Senin might be capable of lying, but they aren’t capable of being wrong. We can’t afford to be ignorant here. Too much is at stake.”
Yeira let his clothes go and let her head fall. As she broke the gaze, Takeo was finally released from her trance, and he could look elsewhere. Instead, he only watched her descend into despair.
“You wouldn’t kill him, would you?” she whispered.
I see you’ve already realized Gavin will never kill me, Takeo mused. And therefore, realized I’m the only one to worry about.
“No,” Takeo said. He reached down and lifted her chin up, letting her see into his eyes so she’d know he was being honest. “Not anymore. Never. And that’s exactly why you must bear his child.”
She blinked, washing moisture from her eyes. A quick sniff pushed away the rest of the coming tears, and she stared straight into Takeo’s soul. “I don’t understand,” she said. “Why?”
“The senin was clear when he spoke to us,” he explained. “We will only bring peace if we continue down this path, and one of us kills the other. If that moment comes, when that moment comes, if either of us hesitates, then we toss the world back into the cauldron of war. I can’t let that happen, and yet I know that I won’t be able to kill Gavin either. I could no more end him than I could Emily, and there’s just too much at risk to chance that the senin lied. You need to take Gavin far away from me, but he will never do that willingly, being the stubborn arse that he is. However, a child changes everything. You know it, I know it, and Gavin will know it. You need to have this baby and save Gavin, Yeira. In doing so, you’ll allow me to do what I have to do. You must.”
He let her go and fell back to the tree again. Her head dropped slightly without his support, and for a few heartbeats, she did nothing but stare at him with parted lips. He kept trying to look away, but his eyes wouldn’t do it alone. With some effort, he had to wretch his whole head to the side and force his attention elsewhere. He found the warming sunrise on them, and he knew they were out of time.
“You have to leave,” he said. “Go.”
Yeira followed his gaze and let out a small gasp. She stood up quickly and looked around before turning back to Takeo. She took a step away, stopped, and touched a hand to her lips.
“You won’t say anything to him, will you?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t want him to know I was a part of this decision. This stays between you and me. Now go.”
She nodded and took off at a brisk walk. He watched her go, knowing he’d have to stay for several more minutes, at least until the watch changed and he could sneak away unnoticed. In the meantime, he’d have to think up some story for why he was gone for so long, as surely one of them noticed the commander was missing by now.
I’ll just say I was meditating. Everyone knows how much the dark ronin likes to brood.
He let loose a sign and felt a shudder of relief wash over him. Only then did he realize how tense he’d been. He legs and back were stiff and numb from a lengthy crouch, and it felt like a small fire had started in his muscles.
I should stand at least. Let my blood flow freely.
Takeo pushed against the tree until he was on his feet again. A tingling sensation passed through his legs and down to his heels, and his heart still raced trying to process what had transpired. He tried not to think about it, hoping that what was done was done right. Surely it was out of his hands now?
He tilted to the side to crack his back when the tiniest scrape of wood flowed to his ears. He went still. That wasn’t a sound common to the forest, nor marsh, and it sounded far too close for comfort. He felt eyes on the back of his head, a sudden tension in the air, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. For half a second he thought himself paranoid, but he’d relied on such senses for far too long to doubt them now. Slowly, carefully, he let his hands drop to his sides, putting his sword within grasp. He tried to appear nonchalant and faced away from the sound. He took two steps forward at a casual pace. Halfway through the third, he whirled in place and sprinted toward the sound, ripping his sword free.
Half of him expected nothing to happen, that all he’d heard was a twig brushing against a trunk in the wind. The other half of him proved right.
Something fast, dark, and small leapt out of nearby tree and burst into a dead sprint. Takeo turned slightly to pursue and took off as fast as his legs could carry him. His enchanted sword lent strength, sending the warmth of the sun through his fingers, into his veins, all the way down to his feet. He didn’t shout out. There was no need. He’d catch the eavesdropper soon enough.
Yet it kept its distance. The shadowy figure, a short humanoid by his guess in the low light, bounded over rocks, straight through shrubs, and even leapt full length off of tree roots and fallen trunks with inhuman speed. Takeo had to push himself just to keep up, let alone gain ground, and he was breathing hard in seconds. His sword flashed as he ran, cutting a path through the forest rather than waste time trying to duck and dodge.
What are you? Akki? Has Borota sent spies? No, it can’t be.
It was heading straight for the camp, and Takeo could hear it panting and whimpering, the shrill of raw fear ushering from its tiny wind pipes. A surge of anger burst through him and he doubled his speed for only a moment, catching up to the thing and leaping at it full strength. His hands grabbed something skinny and furry, and together they burst through the treeline and into the clearing, rolling to a stop.
Takeo straddled the creature and put his sword to its neck before his vision cleared. Now out of the dark forest, the morning sun illuminated them both, and a yellow glow fell over Takeo’s gritted teeth and the wide-eyed stare beneath him. He looked down on a circular face covered in orange fur with black strips, white whiskers sprouting from her cheeks, and mouth full of canine teeth made for eating meat. She bared them as she breathed fast, her long pink tongue visible beneath the jagged white.
Her pupils were dilated, her hair on end, and her claws extended. Worst yet, they were in the open, in full view of the camp. Thankfully no one was out, yet.
“Change back,” Takeo whispered, pressing the sword to Emy’s neck. “Do it, now!”
Emy mewed in fear but did as commanded. Her orange fur faded to purple, hairless skin. Her whiskers receded, her ears changed, yet her eyes stayed yellow. Takeo now held his sword to the neck of an ogre child, and he heard shouts of surprise and the footsteps of a small crowd approaching.
“I heard something,” came a random voice.
“What was that?”
“Takeo?” came another, and this one he recognized.
Gavin and Nicholas rounded the corner while three other samurai, including Kuniko, came trotting down another line. Heads poked out of nearby tents. People squinted in the morning sun. Most balked, for Takeo still hadn’t removed his sword.
“Takeo!” Gavin called, rushing over. “Oh good, you found her.” The knight paused, examining the situation. “Takeo?” he said cautiously.
Nicholas cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted back at the camp. “Krunk! We found her! Over here.”
Takeo swore and pulled his sword from Emy’s neck. Her heart was pounding so fast that he could feel it in his legs. He also felt the ground vibrate as the true ogre came thundering over with all the grace his species was capable of—none. He rounded the tent corner and came to a stop, doubling over and putting his hands to his knees. Drool pooled on the ground.
“Emy,” Krunk said in total relief. “Emy, where were you? Takeo, why are you on her?”
Takeo paused. He thought fast. He decided not to lie. “I caught her following me. I didn’t know it was her, so I gave chase. Luckily, I saw her face before I took her head off.”
The samurai stood up and sheathed his sword. He kept his eyes on her, though, unwavering. Krunk looked from him to Emy, shaking his head. He got down on his knee and lent her a hand, pulling her up with ease. Krunk tisked with motherly warmth, assuming one’s mother had a voice deep as the ocean abyss, and brushed the leaves and dirt from her backside. Emy hadn’t blinked. She looked straight back at Takeo, eyes still wide in terror.
“Emy, why you do that?” Krunk said. “It’s rude to follow people. What were you doing?”
