Songs of fire and light

Chapter 8: the sent of tea

Against Licht’s wish, his father dragged him away from Nenya’s side, upon our return to the castle. Ryujin’s comment did nothing good to the matter. “No worries, I’ll take great care of her.” He ended with a wink. His arm linked with hers. Akashi in tow. 

He led her towards another wing of the castle. “Where are we headed?” She asked a question she herself could answer. 

“I thought it might be desirable for the lady of the forest to enjoy some female company.” Pride was obvious in his voice. “My wife would find blessed if you would accompany her for tea. As you probably know, us, Easterlings take great honor in our tea.” A twinkle of despair sparkled in the corner of his pride facade. Clear, he missed his homeland. “I’ll even do you the honor of cooking some foods from my homelands. If you wouldn’t mind.”

“A samurai banished prince and a cook. Such a strange combination. Are you any good at all in the art of cuisine? Or does the lord merely jest?” She teased. 

A sudden stop, Ryujin straightened his back, hand on his heart. “By my honor, I would not dare poison her ladyship.” His voice fell loud and true. Before his facade faded, he leaned close and whispered the rest. “I am certain if I tried your shadow will cut my throat before the first bite.” 

“It would be my pleasure.” A menacing grin bled into the shadow. Hands placed on his sword, ready for a quick draw. His show earned a blank stare of his mistress. Seeing through the truths behind the lie.

Ryujin mirrored the gesture. “Why not have minor game. A fight between men.” The excitement of battle filled the samurai. Ever since bare witness of his skill, Ryujin has dreamed of one. Not out of spite or for blood, rather for knowledge. He desired more knowledge of these two elves and the mysteries beyond.

A deep, rough voice rang through the hallway. “Ryujin-Sama, please refrain from painting our gracious host walls red with blood.” 

There stood a man, seeming older than any of them. The haircut of a samurai, brown hair in a top knot. A grey kimono concealed only some part of his scarred body. One large scar cut from his left cheek down towards his neck. Kept together with a white stash, joined by a black cord that held both his long and short sword. A dark blue haori worn as a cape over his broad shoulders. A typical samurai, away from the battlefield. Unlike his lord. 

“Oh, Hiroshi-san come here and greet the spirit of the forest lord Leon obsessed about.” He called out nonchalant towards the approaching man. Stomping his bare feet on the stone floor. “And her shadow.” He added in a grunt. Turning back towards his vessel. “This is Hiroshi, my most loyal vessel, righthand and a friend who holds many other titles.”

“Pleasure to meet you, spirit of the forest and her shadow.” The man called Hiroshi halts and bowed respectful with respect before them. “My lord, I have been searching everywhere for you. We scheduled you for tea more than an hour ago with Nami-hime and Ryunosuke.”

“No worries my friend, I have not forgotten, merely delayed. And brought along some interesting guests.” Ryujin spoke calmly, biting back his pleasure. Ever since young he finds it enjoyable to tease the staff from time to time. To keep them on their toes. Poor Hiroshi, a few years older, found himself often at the receiving end. 

The man did not move, nor his lord. Waiting. Watched from the side by immortal eyes. They’d never seen such strange men combined in one place. Nenya still simmered with animosity towards the irritable demon king without a crown. Perhaps the difference in age was the cause. 

Not that either were considered ancient compared to some of their kin. Both still considered a young immortal, by far removed from their thousand years. 

Mortal eyes connect, dared the other‘s motion. 

Ryujin was the first one who broke the silence. “Well, I will not apologize.” He retorted gruffly, both immortals instantly found their eyes rolling. 

Holds this castle nothing besides odd fools. 

“Imagine, if I ever received a genuine apology from you I’d keel over, drop dead.” Hiroshi replied hones. Replied by a rumbling growl that near sounded like a chuckle. 

“In that case, i better never apologize, my friend.” He grumbled through his elation. “We best make haste and join my precious lady and son.”

Ryujin escorted the lady through the long maze of halls. Hiroshi led the way, being one of few, able to make sense of the crossroad routes. As Akashi revered his name, he chased his mistress as a shadow should. 

Silent and swift, he moved. Keen eyes that caught the slightest act. His left hand placed upon his scabbard, thumb placed against the silver shaded hand guard. Melted and forged, three dancing cranes, trapped between two frames. A bird that symbols longevity, happiness, and wonderful fortune in lands as Asahi. Fitted perfectly with its smaller sibling. Both scabbards, black as night. Whilst the handle shared this color the faint edging of similar cranes broke the dark spell. A gift from his mistress, designed by herself, forged by the best blacksmith alive. 

Another room filled with people, where a sultry air welcomed them. Nenya spotted the same woman she saw earlier, now dressed in different clothing. More traditional for a woman of the high court. Although a banished prince, he took care of his wife. 

A jūnihitoe, the twelve layers. The innermost garment made of white silk, followed by other layers, which finally closed off by a final coat. A large coat made of the finest silks, painted various shades of pink, a large peacock painted by a master. Matching the other layers perfect. Her face painted, white skin, red eyes, and lips. Ebony hair pulled back, kept steady with cherry blossoms shaped hairpins. The delicate pink stones glitter in the light. 

Seated beside her sat a young boy. Around the age of two or three. Dressed in a blue kimono, a white eastern dragon painted on the back. Unkempt black hair, a mixture of both parents. 

Both seated on their knees, comfortable on a pillow. Ryujin stepped beside the remaining pillows. “Nenya, the famed spirit of the forest and her shadow, Akashi. allow me to introduce to you my wife, Nami and son Ryunosuke. And vice versa” He laughed before taking a seat from across them. “They’ll be joining us for tea.” With that, he plumped down on a pillow, cross-legged. Hiroshi at his side. 

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady.” Nami’s voice sounded like the sweet songs of a cardinal on a crisp spring morning. The young boy obeyed, followed his mother’s example. “Do have a seat.” With an elegant sway, she directed them to the pillow on her left. 

Everyone seated the tea ceremony began. Nami filled the bowl with the green tea powder. Cautious she picked up the steaming kettle of boiling water and poured it into the bowl. Nenya watched her every move. The gentle aroma filled her nostrils, as did Akashi’s. Twisting, seated by himself in a corner. His favorite spot. Back against the wall, legs pulled up, one straight one on the floor. His sword tilted midst, the handle rest on his shoulder. 

Once Nami found the tea stirred to her desire with the bamboo whisk, she bowed before each guest when offering the bowl of tea. The guest takes a sip of tea wipes off the rim and passes on to the next. While completing the delightful flavor of the tea. Until all have a sip and return the tea back to their host. 

One complete Nami prepared another bowl to serve each guest with their own. Neither immortals ever found the progress of a tea ceremony worth the effort. Yet they enjoy the flavors of tea, as many Elven do. 

“When I was young, my governess told me elves mostly resident in the West. Is that where you both are from?” Nami’s silken voice cut the silence the room held. A soft bell rang for chatter.  Her light amber eyes met with tyrian purple. A soft smile graced both woman’s lips. 

Nenya answered in equal measure. “Once, long ago I dwelled amongst our western kin. As did Akashi once in the east. Since then, ages have passed.” She removed her hood. Overlong silver hair fell in place, cascaded over her back. 

For hours the women ignored the men as they chatted. 

That’s how she learned of Ryujin’s banishment. His mother always favored his younger brother due his lost eye. She found him too weak. He lost sight of his right eyes due an illness, smallpox. As reply of his mothers claims the boy, age ten cut out his own eye with a knife before her eyes. Near killed himself if not for Hiroshi’s near-instant reaction. Found himself at least one loyal ally. 

Year’s later, even as he won battle beyond battle, his mother never approved. Yet his father deemed him worthy in strength and knowledge, he appointed Ryujin heir. Soon the king fell trapped, caught in a ruse. A rebellion noble sought an audience for truce, only to stab the man in the back. Caught by rage, Ryujin fought the betrayer and near diminished his entire clan along with it. They spared only women and children. 

When the victorious new Emperor returned home to his palace. He found himself and his men unwelcome. During his absence, his mother claimed her youngest, the more favored son his statute. Backed by her brothers, high nobles of the court. After many battles against their armies, Ryujin fell. Surrendered his life in exchange for his people. Blood of conflict dirtied his homeland. The prince could no longer turn a blind eye for his people’s suffering. 

His own mother and her brothers wanted him to commit seppuku. To gut himself as another cut off his head. Before they could utter the verdict, his brother torn between love and hate cast his own. “He, as those loyal to my brother shall face banishment from Asahi, forthwith.”

So the banished prince ensued. For years he and his vessels sailed the sea. In search of an unknown place they can call home. Nami was one of his vessel’s daughter and banished along with her only relative, her father. Who, perished years ago from old age. 

A heavy storm wrecked their ship and urged them on land. The harbor of Leones. Leon greeted them and heard them out. Even invited the lord and his closest onto castle grounds. 

He gave up his claim, his rule for the sake of his people. That’s a strange thing for royals of this time. Most care for themselves foremost. Perhaps there is more behind this battle freak beyond first sight. 

~

As promised, Nenya finished the remainder of the day with Licht. After realizing they never completed the first hour, before interrupted by drunks and robbers. The prince guided her during the fading day. Together they saw the shops. When one particular caught her eye. The modest window of a jeweler. Rings, brackets, and necklaces, made of gold, silver, and other metals. Set with all shapes and shade of gems. 

“Mother liked jewelry.” The boy’s faint whisper told. Her sensitive hearing caught the trivial remark. 

A bitter smile emerged. Nenya, bit back. “Which one would she favor?”

Licht met her gaze, share a bitter smile. His eyes soon roamed the display. “That one. Father enjoys giving each of his woman their own stone and shade.” He pointed towards a delicate gold necklace inlaid with over a dozen square ruby gems. A mumble between friends ensued. “It helps him keep them apart.” Both shared a laugh at the lord’s expense. 

When an intrusive voice stepped between. “I find amethyst are more suited for our lovely sprite.” Both groaned and moved away from the intrusion. Leon’s stormy gaze fell on her chest, where her Safire shaded necklace rests.

“What will you show me next?” She asked, taking his tiny hand in hers. Walking away, they left behind a brooding prince. 

Light withered beneath the darkness. The sun had passed beyond their reach until the morning that follows. 

“We should return to the castle.” She suggested, no longer able to simple ignore the number of yaws the adolescent man produced. 

On their return home, a hand clasped her wrist. “Do manners mean nothing to a fool?” She snarled, met by a fearless laugh. Something cold encased her wrist, caught her by surprise. On it a silver bracelet glitter in the faint sunlight. Sparkles shone from near a hundred of the finest amethyst stones. Her eyes narrowed on the lord. The boy stayed silent on the side. Wondering when his father next flight might be. “What’s this?”

“A gift for the most beautiful sprite that ever walked my lands.” He announced in style. Bowing his head for display instead of praise. 

Coldness was all her eyes held for the man. As did her words. “Silly trinkets do not impress.”

With no further response, she turned and left. Something distinct bedeviled her mind besides the bothersome man.