4
Honieigozu
Kivaan awakened with a lurch, his breathing short and sharp. He lay with his back against one of the towering nivaan trees of the Dark Storm Forest, wrapped in a light travel cloak. Before him, the remains of the fire he and his companions had lit the night before sat cold and lifeless. They had ensured it was dead before going to their rest.
He looked down at his tense hands then, and exhaled a shaky breath as he saw they were clean of the blood he had seen in his vivid dream. The meaning of the fell visions eluded him, but like all of his people, he trusted that there was indeed a purpose for the dream. Painfully slowly, he lifted still-trembling hands to his uncharacteristically short hair as if he were trying to hold his head in place. With eyes squeezed shut, he did his best to regain his composure.
“What have you seen, Kivaan?” murmured a sleepy voice from the other side of the tree.
“You sense even my inner turmoil with uncanny ease,” Kivaan sighed heavily, his hands falling upon his knees.
“I should be a poor shadow otherwise,” came the gentle chuckle.
“I have been pursued by a sense of foreboding ever since you and I rejected the advances of Raashim’s priestesses,” Kivaan confessed. “How fares your spirit, Tsukitsuyoem?”
Tsuki moved slowly around the tree until he was nestled in the crook of two great roots and close enough to converse with Kivaan under his breath. His hair was about the same length as Kivaan’s for two reasons: on the one hand, his general assignment was to prove a foil against attacks that directly targeted Kivaan – the only son of a Guardian – through confusion by means of looking similar. On the other hand, he, like his master, had flatly refused to enter the service of Raashim upon completing the Trials that they had undertaken to prove themselves as unmatched men of valour and martial prowess. They had shorn their shoulder-length hair to indicate this unfaithfulness and only their willingness to so publicly proclaim their adultery had saved their necks from the caress of the priestess’ knives. The long journey home had seen their hair begin to grow again, but one of their companions had made the curious decision to keep his head shorn.
“My spirit is more troubled that we were thoughtless enough to engage in the Trial than that we had the good sense at the end of it to see the Cult for what it is and reject its allures,” confessed Tsuki. “Is that truly what distresses you? Or is it your vision?”
Kivaan shivered under his robe. “I fear there is still much evil to come from my foolishness,” he muttered. “I do not have the wit to see it at this time.”
“What do you see with your mind’s eye?” asked Tsuki seriously. “Have you seen it before?”
“My hands are red,” Kivaan said flatly. The colour itself was widely considered ill-fated and foreboding among his people. “I cannot tell if it is blood, or they are lit by the red moon on the horizon. I have seen it several times since we began our journey home.”
“That is truly a grim vision,” Tsuki whispered, his face ashen in the early morning gloom. “Your mother is of Eres Anchi Chuho, does she have insight into visions?”
Kivaan made a terse sound of affirmation. “And a great many other things,” he drily added. “She was ever known as the lesser of two sisters, but she still far exceeded any trickery conjured by other Eres. Even a lesser sister of Anchi Chuho is as the ocean to a babbling brook when compared to the seers of the younger Eres.”
“Then the sooner we arrive at Hotsukiyoem, the sooner we will be comforted of a great many evils,” Tsuki nodded.
“I worry that we will only bring our own bad reputation with us,” Kivaan confessed. “I do not look for a favourable reception. I left against my father’s advice, and I return now with the knowledge that he was right and I have squandered both my time and reputation.”
“We will face any censure together, and pay what consequences we must,” Tsuki offered generously. “Come what may, we have learned valuable lessons, even if we learned them through unnecessary tribulation.”
Kivaan chuckled into his chest. “I could not have chosen a finer shadow if the choice had been left to me,” he smiled. “My father’s wisdom once again proves itself.”
“He is Kajirushinidair for good reason,” Tsuki grinned.
Kivaan lifted his gaze to the break in the trees ahead. They had made camp just before leaving the cover of the Dark Storm Forest, but the rolling plains ahead were visible from their place of rest. So, too, was the sky as it slowly brightened, heralding the rising of the sun to begin a new day.
“Yes,” Kivaan nodded. “I must prevail upon my mother for answers to these visions. Let us wake our fellows and prepare to be off.”
“We have only half a day’s travel before we are on the Guardian’s Way,” Tsuki noted. “And our hair is now grown long enough that we shall not be ashamed in the presence of any pleasant maidens!”
Kivaan snorted. “Only you and my mother worry on my behalf about that!”
Tsuki laughed, and his mirth awakened their two companions and their mounts.
“Ai,” yawned Jiriou mightily, stretching long arms out as he roused himself to action. His hair was matted with lack of grooming, for he was of the Hill Folk, and cared little for such things. A long, gaunt, jaw was often distorted into an unsettling grin, and even in the cold, he preferred to travel clothed only about the waist and legs. “Do we still lap at the pool of Raashim, that we must rise before the sun?” he groaned, bones popping and cracking in his neck and knuckles as he seemed to make a point of testing the limits of every joint in his body.
“Go to your people, Jiriou,” Kivaan replied, not for the first time, and he felt sure not the last. “There is no reason for you to leave the hunting grounds of your clan.”
“I would be a fool indeed to pass up the chance to meet The Second Guardian,” Jiriou smirked. “You think to claim such an event for yourself alone?”
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“I do not go to make myself seem desirable in his eyes,” Kivaan reminded his confidently inappropriate companion. “I go to throw myself upon his mercy and confess my shortcomings. If he should spare me, then I will be in his debt, and carry myself as a Warrior of Eres Zoru until death claims me.”
“Shall you marry a princess in need of assistance then?” Jiriou cackled. “Your forebear certainly knew opportunity when it knocked upon his House! A more canny warrior there never was. Small wonder Eres Zoru is one of the few families held in regard by the Hill and Forest clans!”
“Your mouth runs like the mountain stream after the snows melt, Jiriou,” grumbled the shorn-headed Oniwa as he also sat up and shed his cloak. “So many of your words are without merit.” He looked silently and intently through the gap in the trees and out onto the barren landscape. Only tough grasses and shrubs that crept low across the ground like a coarse blanket survived on the windswept hills, broken up here and there by outcrops of the shikyo stone that Eres Niwa was highly regarded for. “I have overslept,” grunted Oniwa with some regret. “Please forgive my lack of discipline, Lord Kivaan.”
“I am not your Lord,” Kivaan replied uneasily. “Be at peace. We only awoke some moments ago ourselves.”
Oniwa, for all he was the last to awaken, was the first on his feet. He was easily the tallest of the youths, and had slept the night cradling a great bow against himself. Kivaan had witnessed the powerful tribesman split a sapling in two from sixty paces with one of his almost javelin-like arrows, and he could critically wound a man-sized target at triple that distance. There were far worse allies one could have.
“Everywhere I turn, someone licks the boots of another,” Jiriou was spitting.
“It is small wonder you will not return to your tribe,” Oniwa offered in return. “Did not your parents send you to be of service to Raashim? Will not they be enraged if you return having spurned his blessings?”
Jiriou pointed furiously for a moment, futilely jabbing his finger as if to find the right words to make a cutting reply. His eyes flickered with rage, and then, in one of his odd, but entirely in-character about turns, he cackled raucously and pulled himself to his feet.
“Small wonder your bow is so accurate,” he chortled. “You see all, do you not?”
Oniwa grumbled something, as if certain some offence had been meant that he could not discern. Kivaan and Tsuki followed suite, dusting off the clinging needles of the towering nivaan trees that had served as a not at all unpleasant bed for the night.
A soft, chirruping call from Kivaan’s mount advised him that she was awaiting her first meal of the day with a positively divine patience, and he smiled dotingly as he made his way to the big cat. She was near enough three measures at the shoulder, and only Jiriou’s great canine was larger. Oniwa’s bipedal dragon-kin mount stared at Kivaan with its unnervingly unblinking yellow eyes as he came close. It was shorter at the shoulder than the other mounts, but tougher in the hide, and far more capable of slipping past the many obstacles in the wilds that sought to grab and hinder at fur and cloak.
“You have been exceedingly patient,” Kivaan soothed the offended-looking cat, rubbing her fluffy cheeks and laughing as she shook him off. “Yes, yes, I am now wasting your valuable time with affection when I should be breaking your fast.” He took some of the preserved meats from his saddlebags and hand-fed them to her. She took them and chewed daintily for a creature of her size. Tsuki joined him and together they fed their animals and lavished attention upon them. Jiriou liked to feed his great black wolf on the trail, and Oniwa’s dragon-kin rarely ate at all, and always spurned food from any hand but that of Oniwa.
“How long do you think we shall take about arriving in Hotsukiyoem?” asked Tsuki, sampling some of the dried meats he had fed his mount. She seemed offended at his entitlement.
“We are mounted and disciplined, and as long as we do not let mornings such as this become a habit, we will make good ground every day. There should be no reason why we cannot be in my father’s presence before the first snows.”
“If we mean to travel in the open, we should take greater care of our appearance,” Tsuki noted.
“There is a stream deep enough to bathe in within the morning’s march,” Oniwa advised as he took a few morsels of food in preparation for the day. “The Guardian’s Way bridges it. We can either travel through the woods until we reach it, and then follow it out to the road, or find the road first.”
“I do not mind keeping out of the wind that blasts those hills for a little while longer,” Kivaan laughed. “Your knowledge of the area is a blessing, Oniwa.”
The big warrior dipped his head slightly in acknowledgment.
“Would you bid me wash as well, my Lord?” asked Jiriou caustically.
“I bid no one wash,” Kivaan replied firmly. “As the son of The Second Guardian, however, I have obligations to my House and do not desire to be an embarrassment. Stop creating tension where there is none. You may do as you will. Stay here and sleep until mid-morning if that is your wish. But I and Tsuki will depart presently, and I dare not suggest that you follow our lead.”
“I will follow your lead,” Oniwa grunted, hefting the heavy blankets onto his mount before strapping them firm. “Come, Riho,” he said gently to his dragon-kin. “We go to broaden our knowledge of our land.”
“I follow, I follow,” Jiriou groaned, bowing in mock surrender at the waist.
“He only comes because we wish he would not,” chuckled Tsuki.
Kivaan grimaced, but otherwise kept his peace.
Honieigozu translates to Red Moon, with ho being “red” and nieigozu being “the night is hers”, which is the term attributed to the night’s heavenly body.
Kivaan translates to “bright lance”. Brightness conveys potential and good favour in the Land of the Dark Storm.
Tsukitsuyoem translates to “Starry Sky”. Yoem is used in conjunction with various descriptors to describe any wide open expanse, from fields to the sea to the sky. In the case of Kivaan’s friend, his fellows often shorten his name to Tsuki, which means “Star”. If they shorten it among less intimate company, they will call him “Tsukio”, the “o” on the end making his name masculine.
Eres: English equivalent is the way. This is a common term, and its true meaning in a given circumstance is highly dependent on context. In this case, it refers to one of the five remaining original clans of the Eres Niwa region. It refers to a chosen ideology, as each clan is as individual in their dogma as in their everyday way of life. Anchi: English equivalent is young blade. In this case, it refers less to actual weaponry, and is used more as a comparison to the second part of the clan name, and an indicator that the blade is of less note than the blood. Chuho: English equivalent is old blood. This term is set aside to name the dragon kind, specifically the original five that were created – one for each Realm. There is a general suspicion that there is a diluted draconic legacy in the blood of this clan, and that there is an abnormally high birth rate of those gifted with insight into dreams and the warnings and portents readable in the heavens.
Hotsukiyoem effectively translates to Red Sky, and is the name of Kivaan’s father’s stronghold.
Kajirushinidair effectively translates to Second Guardian, the position in the Dark Storm hierarchy that Kivaan’s father holds.
Zoru: English equivalent is righteous battle.
Niwa: English equivalent is dark storm. The nation is named for the vast forest that forms a secondary barrier after the Crooked Spine Mountains on one side, and is also a reference to the ongoing battle with the denizens of The Black Sea on the opposite side of the nation.
One measure is equal to approximately 600 millimetres. 1 span is 2 measures.
Riho: English equivalent is take blood. The term is often used as a command to attack directed specifically at subordinates.
