Tenchi Muyo Fan Fiction ❯ Cast Seeds ❯ Shallow Earth ( Chapter 1 )

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Cast Seeds
Section One: Shallow Earth

The traveler yawned as his ship ate up the stars before him. At first this had been almost exciting, a short trip and back in a purloined vehicle, going where no one had gone before, eating stale rations. He picked at the brick of 'food' on his console as he watched the endless landscape drift by. The brick had gotten even denser, if possible, from its original condition when he had boarded his little ship more than two years before.
He had fondly named her It'kar when he had taken off, but now he had other, less savory names for her, words often uttered in the loneliness of the craft. The thing was, when he had 'borrowed' the ship, he had only rudimentary knowledge of how it worked. Thankfully it had not needed any major repair, but still he lived in anticipation of that moment, when he may be cut adrift.
Also, he thought he had done something to the ship, she sometimes moved so fast she seemed to jump the stars, other times they moved slower than a Retu. He also lived in anticipation, though of a different sort, for these moments. He wondered what he would see after the next jump. He wondered WHEN he would make the next jump, It'kar was nothing if not unpredictable.
He stood, tossing back his braided mane of steel gray hair, hair that shifted color as it moved, much like the changing shades of abalone nacre. The man stretched as much as he could in the cramped control room. He turned and tapped a button on one of the boards, he had discovered this was a sort of 'black box' but he decided to put it to better use.
:Journal, day 72:
<It's yet another day of monotony. I don't think I've ever gone this long without a jump before. Its days like this that I wonder why I ever decided to get on this ship and see what was out here. So far, I've seen stars, stars and more stars. Not a planet in sight. If I set this course, it was the worst mistake of my life, second only to boarding this ship in the first place. Though for all I know, as I've said before, the ship itself decided where to go, and also for all I know, it's taking the most boring route to the edge of the universe.>
He sat down, bending his arms behind his head. <I wish something new would happen. I wish I could know I'd done right by leaving it all behind...by leaving them to peace. But I'll never know I suppose, I suppose that is my fate.> His face, angular and pale, turned towards the front viewing panel, his visible eye, silver in color and sheen, sober, the other was covered in a thick lock of hair that concealed half his face. He reached out and touched the button again, turning off the recording.
He had had two years to rehash what he had seen while returning from his short jaunt around the moon and back, the longest journey he had planned. Then he had seen he could never return. He had turned the ship and headed off to parts unknown, punching buttons blindly, not caring if the ship took him off into space, or into one of the two scarlet suns. It had turned out to be the former, obviously. He wondered if the other option might not have been the best one, sometimes.
Now, he no longer even tried to touch the controls. Why bother? He had nowhere to go, wherever the ship was heading had to be better than what he had left behind. War, destruction, death, and, at long last, peace of the people. It had come unexpectedly, and it had come in a manner that ensured peace, forever and to eternity. The man raised his fist to his lips then touched it to his heart. He just hadn't expected the planet would blow up. He stood again, and the ship jumped.
...
Ayeka Jurai knelt in her garden, calmly pruning one of the many flourishing rosebushes that stood in neat rows along the stone path that ran adjacent to the house. If there was one thing that the Juraians excelled at, it was gardening, for obvious reasons. She found comfort in turning the soil, in planting things and seeing them grow from seedling to tree, or bush or flower. Under her hands the garden became a thing of beauty, after having been left to its own devices for so long. The princess stood and brushed the soil from the front of her apron, placing her spade back into one of the capacious pockets. She turned and squinted at the sun, shading her eyes with one delicate hand.
Ayeka sighed softly as she turned to the garden shed, taking off her apron and hanging it on one of the hooks. Noboyuki had built this little shed just for her. It was lovely, especially with the climbing roses decorating the wooden walls.
She had rarely had time for working by herself when she was on Jurai. There she always had too many duties to fulfill, too many people around her at all times to be able to just go and weed or pick flowers she had carefully cultivated in order to brighten the cool walls of the royal palace. Here, her flowers graced nearly every room. They were laid fresh every day even on the family graves. All the inhabitants were grateful, even if some never said so, for her contributions, and she was glad to be of use, even if it was just providing flowers.
It was difficult for her to do anything recently. She constantly had to force herself to breath in and out, to get out of bed and face the day. She had to constantly remind herself to smile, to try and laugh, to lift her chopsticks to her mouth, chew and swallow.
As she picked up the broad-brimmed straw hat that lay upon the bench attached to the shady side of her little shed, she once more considered leaving, going back to Jurai as her father wished. Her only reasons not to were Sasami's happiness and her neat little garden. She wondered if those were really good enough reasons to endure the continual heart-break of remaining.
She brushed off her hands as she walked off towards the house.
...
"Good timing, big sister!" Sasami called out when Ayeka opened the door, removed her shoes and stepped inside. The elder princess shot a small smile at her little sister, who seemed to be growing up so quickly. At the age of 716, she appeared to a sixteen year old teenager teetering at the very brink of graceful womanhood.
The Juraians were a long-lived people, their life-spans could be lengthened indefinitely by the tree-life-water. However, they aged normally, practically as a normal human up to a certain point. Then at the approximate age of eighteen they began to slow in the aging process, and gained the years at a near crawl. This state could continue practically for thousands of years. Ayeka, though now at the biological age of 728, still looked, and felt, twenty years old. She would remain this way for a very long time. She knew that, given her young age, even if she abstained from the water, she would still live out the Juraian's normal life-span. Which, in the case of the nobility, was even longer than the average Juraian.
Ayeka moved quietly, and with the elegance her little sister was on the brink of possessing, helping the contentedly humming younger princess by placing the food on the dishes and setting them up on the table. She had little doubt that her brother and his new wife were awake up at the shrine, although they had not come down yet, even given the early hour.
Ayeka's hands stilled momentarily, the plate she was holding hovering uncertainly over the table. He chest suddenly tightened, bringing her to temporary immobility. She still had trouble pretending that her brother's lies had not hurt as much as they actually had. First he had hidden his identity from her, then his youth. She wasn't exactly sure which hurt more.
When he had known without doubt that he had fallen in love with the woman he had made his wife he had dropped the disguise. But not for Ayeka, not for Ayeka. Kyokki was a nice woman, kind, warm and accepting. She was a little strange, but then Ayeka was used to strange people.
Almost immediately after she thought of them, her brother and his bride entered the house, exchanging greetings with her and Sasami, who called out hello to them from the kitchen. Ayeka hurriedly forced her hands back into motion as her sister-in-law moved to assist her. Kyokki always seemed to be smiling, and her eyes seemed especially kind when she looked at the purple-tressed princess. It was as though she knew the pain in Ayeka's heart and wished she could ease it.
Her brother, the princess thought, knew how she felt and in return felt guilt for it. It almost made her feel a little better. But his method of dealing with her pain was completely different from the ways of his bride. He avoided his sister, perhaps to give her space and give her time to recover, perhaps in shame from the hurt she could not keep from her face.
But, as they sat, the emptiness of the table showed the evidence of a hurt so deep that even her brother's deception could not even hope to reach it. The space where Mihoshi would normally sit was empty, but that was not unusual. After having been assigned a new partner, a young Kellian man named Aidar, she spent more time out actually patrolling than ever before. Ayeka privately suspected that the blonde GP officer was more than fond of her new partner, whose unconscious grace, a characteristic of the people of his planet, unthinkingly averted the worst of Mihoshi's incidents. Ayeka thought they were good for each other, especially since the cost of house repairs had dropped since Aidar had arrived.
But by lingering on those thoughts, she was only trying to distract herself from the other empty spaces. Noboyuki was in Tokyo for an architectural confab for a few weeks, something he was very excited about. Ayeka had noticed him, several times, asking Sasami if he could examine their luggage. Her little sister would accede cheerfully, and when he asked if he could see pictures of Jurai, and any blueprints they had on records, they would give them over, witnessing him poring over them long into the night, a look of delight and fascination on his face.
He had let her see the results of his studies, the designs he had done before he left, laying them out pridefully for her to see. Tears had started in her eyes at the sight of the beautiful renderings, combinations of Earthen and Juraian architecture. It was moving, the way his face lit up as he pointed out a particularly shapely curve.
The elder princess had declared them perfect and absolutely amazing, endured his impulsive embrace, then left calmly, only waiting until the door had closed behind her before racing to her room and throwing herself down on her futon, weeping bitterly. She had not been able to stop even when Sasami had entered, exclaiming in alarm, and trying to comfort her sister, but to no avail. Sasami had escaped with her own tears running down her face. Ayeka still did not know where she had gone. At the time, she had not even cared.
It was the next morning before she could bring herself to descend the stairs, only doing so because she wanted to wish Noboyuki well and see him off. And she was composed enough that none but Sasami could have known that she had spent the entire night weeping as though her heart had shattered.

They began to eat, those few who were left, in an atmosphere so decidedly different from what it had been that there was no doubt that all there could feel it. Ayeka still tried to avoid looking at the two abandoned seats beside her. She had refused to move after they had gone, trying to prove they hadn't really hurt her by their actions. She knew it was a futile gesture, but she refused to sacrifice any more of her dignity by letting her emotions show.
She finished quickly and stood, making her apologies to the three concerned faces looking up at her. She escaped slowly, walking past Washu's lab on her way outside. The little scientist had vanished recently, saying something about paying a visit to her old stomping grounds at the Science Academy. Her door had been locked in such a way that if it were opened, all one would find would be a dusty old broom closet.
Ayeka regretted that immensely. At the moment she could use the comfort of her Ryu-oh, now a tall young tree, growing quickly. He was beautiful, and always a great consolation to her. As an alternative she made her way up the long flights of stairs that led to the temple, she did not intend to reach it, however, and instead turned into the woods halfway, then wandered up into the mountains.
She paused at a small clearing with short, flat-topped stakes driven into the ground. She stared at the spot, then moved on, walking ever so slowly. At one point she stooped, plucking a flower from the forest floor, one she did not cultivate in her own garden. Twirling the royal teardrop gently in her hands, she reached her secluded destination, a tiny, rundown shack.
She slowly edged the door open, coughing at the dust that arose from the long-untrodden floor. She looked around, her scarlet eyes unfathomable, at the interior. It looked much the same as it had the last time she had been there, so many years before. The princess swallowed the lump in her throat. She had not been back since that first time, unwilling to violate the beautiful memories she held so close from that single afternoon. But they had broken her and left her. Now there was no reason to try and preserve the happiness he had given her. To begin to heal, she had to confront the things that had been sacred to her, including that dusty little cabin.
"I don't...want you anymore." She said softly, directing her words to the floor. "I don't need you anymore." She said more forcefully, throwing the bloom onto the hard packed dirt before turning and slamming the door to her memories.
...
"GAAH! Se's miruo'ka, kii serhe!" He bellowed as he tumbled across the cabin, bashing his head against one of the doors. He sat up groggily, and touched the tender spot, startled to find blood on his fingers. Shaking his head carefully, he got up in slow increments, and made his way back to his seat.
He felt nauseated. The jumps sometimes did that to him, but this was the first time he had flown head-first into a wall. The traveler swallowed uncertainly, wiping his bloodied hand on the fabric of his dark shirt. He really should have gotten a bandage, the blood was now running into his eyes, soaking his hair and causing it to stick to his forehead. But dizziness prevented him from even rising. His arms felt heavy. It would be ironic, he thought, if he had come all this way, the last of his race, to succumb to a bump on the head. He wondered if more damage had been done than he thought.
He swallowed again, raising his eyes to the view-screen before him, to the stars that rushed past with unbelievable speed. The last thing he saw before darkness overtook him, was a small blue star, rapidly coming closer, emerging from the blackness and quickly growing before him into a radiant blue ball. A planet. And from the way things looked, one with which he was on a collision course.
It was pretty, he thought as it further filled the view. It reminded him of home, of what home should have been. A few tears ran down his cheeks before the blue light of Earth grew dark in his eyes.
...
Ayeka looked up, letting the light of the sun wash over her. It was a lovely day, as it often was in Okayama, and the wispy clouds did nothing to diminish the sweetness of the sunlight. She stood on a quiet hilltop overlooking the valley. The early summer wind brushed across her kimono and her dark purple tresses, shifting them softly.
She loved this planet. She loved the gentle rains of the spring, the blankets of snow in the winter, the changing colors of the autumn. And she loved... She shook her head, angry with herself. She had put that behind her, her mourning flowers on the grave of the buried memories. And yet she could not stop herself from feeling the betrayal and the anger beneath it. How dare they do this to her! Her fist thumped against one of her legs. How dare that Pirate steal her Tenchi!
She sank to the ground as she realized the error of that thought. He hadn't been stolen, he had gone willingly, choosing Ryoko over herself. It wasn't fair, she thought bitterly. She had even gotten to like the pirate over the years. She wouldn't have minded sharing Tenchi with her. But it was not to be. So now she felt betrayed, not only by Tenchi, but by Ryoko, whom she had thought was her friend.
Her mouth clamped in a hard line. But the one thing she would never, ever do would be to let them know it. She would be cool, she would be aloof. She would be the princess she was brought up to be. She would hold the hurt inside until it was gone. It was the only thing she could think of to do.
The elder princess forced her legs to stand, it took enormous effort just to do that simple task. Suddenly she stopped, her head swiveling to look at the sky. What was that? She whirled, her eyes searching. Something was coming, and quickly. Was it Ryo-Ohki? No, she didn't think so, it didn't feel like Ryo-Ohki. Besides, they would not have been back so soon. It had only been a week since their small, private ceremony and their immediate trip to the stars. Finally her eyes picked out a small, rapidly moving light, like a comet.
She began to walk, then run, plotting the trajectory of the rapidly growing point of light. It was one of the skills that were taught to Jurai royalty. It seemed to be heading straight towards the mountains. Not much of a surprise, Ayeka thought, all things falling from the sky seemed to land at the Masaki residence.
She met her brother and his bride when she was halfway down the steps, they fell in with her as they raced down into the valley.
"Do you know what it is?" Ayeka panted.
"Distress, great distress." Kyokki answered briefly. Ayeka gave her an odd look, but did not ask how the woman had known that, or what she had meant. She eyed her new sister-in-law surreptitiously as they moved quickly along, the woman was slim, but not skinny, with pale skin, red hair that fell almost to her ankles and blue eyes that looked to be carved of sapphire. However she felt of her brother, she had to note that he had a beautiful, if unusual, wife.
"All I know is we must get there quickly, whether it be friend of foe," Yosho added a few moments later, grimacing as he darted along beside the two women. The ground shook with impact under their running feet, and a huge ball of scorched earth erupted to show the landing site of whatever it was that had landed.
"I wonder if they even survived." Ayeka said, staring wide-eyed at the spot they approached.
Yosho glanced at Kyokki, who nodded slightly.
"You're empathic." Ayeka said suddenly, her words ringing truth.
Kyokki looked at the princess for a second, nearly stumbling at her inattention to where she was going, and Yosho grabbed her elbow to steady her. "Yes." She said simply. "But this is not the time or place to discuss that." She continued. Turning her gaze from Ayeka, she continued swiftly on, slightly outdistancing her companions. Ayeka shared a glance with her brother, who had his bokken out and held at ready, and then they moved carefully down the side of the crater.
Kyokki was already at the bottom, using the long sleeves of her blouse to shield her hands from the heated metal as she tried to work open the bent hatch. Yosho quickly handed Ayeka his bokken and moved to help her.
It was a small ship, nestled like a large, cracked egg at the bottom of the crater. It had been a sleek craft once, she supposed, but its nose had cracked off and lay half-buried in the dirt. The passenger compartment was crushed along one side, and bright orange liquid seeped into the ground beside it. Ayeka guessed that that was the fuel.
"Ayeka!" Yosho called urgently, "Can you make it back to the house quickly and get some first aid equipment prepared? I don't know if it'll do much good but without Washu we don't have many options!" He and Kyokki were working a long, limp, bundle out of the wreckage. "Quickly, sister! Please!"
Ayeka nodded and tore off towards the house.
When she had disappeared over the rise, Yosho shared a long look with his wife, whose face looked bleak. "It doesn't look good," he said softly, trying not to joggle the delicate burden in his arms. "But we'll try."
Kyokki looked at him, "Do you think I should...?" She bit her lip, and he could feel her sadness as she smoothed the sticky hair of the traveler away from his bruised brow. He had suffered various other lacerations, some more serious that others, and bruises liberally decorated his swollen face. Several bones seemed to be broken, though his arms seemed miraculously unscathed. In other words, he looked like someone who had just been pulled out of a crashed spaceship.
"What can you do?" Yosho asked curiously, as he laid the man on the ground, carefully arranging his limbs so he might easier carry him back to the house.
"Very little." She admitted softy, "but maybe enough to allow him to recover on his own, or until Washu returns."
"You best do it, then." Yosho commented, "Whoever he is, he still deserves a chance."
Kyokki nodded and motioned Yosho to move back a bit, then knelt beside the man and laid her hands on his chest. Yosho could see nothing being done, but could see the results of whatever she was doing. The man's chest moved much more easily, and his bruises faded slightly. Finally she sat back with a gasp and her husband quickly embraced her shoulders. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, fine. I'm fine, dearest." She stood, brushing off her pants. She caressed his cheek with her hand. "Now, we'd better get him down to the house. He's not in immediate danger, but he still has a long way to go." Yosho left briefly to slap together a stretcher while Kyokki ripped some strips of material from her sleeves and used them to bind the worst of his wounds. Then, when he returned, they carefully lifted him onto the conveyance and began to make their slow trek down to the house.

Ayeka and Kyokki sat by the man's bedside in the grayness of early morning. They had sent Sasami to bed a few hours before, where the little princess had quickly fallen asleep. She was a kind soul and was extremely worried about their injured guest. She had made a broth, and after they determined that his body could digest it, they managed to get him to take a bit.
The older women had only managed to get the little princess out of the room long enough to undress him and tend to his wounds, Yosho assisting them with the setting of his broken leg. He had screamed then, nearly regaining consciousness, his eyes flying open in a flash of shocked silver before he fainted. There had been nothing in those silver eyes but pain though. And Ayeka felt moved to compassion for the man who lay uncomfortably on the thick pallets, breathing heavily.
"Will he live?" Ayeka asked in a sad whisper.
"I hope so," Kyokki returned, just as quietly, "We've done all we can do, unfortunately."
"But couldn't we take him to the hospital?" Ayeka protested. "Maybe if we shave his hair..."
"I'm sorry Ayeka, but who knows what they may do if they find the differences, whatever they may be besides the hair." She paused, gently brushing a lock of hair away with her fingers, watching the colors shift. "Besides, there is no way we can hide these."
Ayeka looked at the long, pointed ears soberly, and nodded. There was no way any sane human doctor would mistake those for human ears. They looked more like the ears on the pictures of the elves she had seen in some of Noboyuki's mangas. One had a small nick cut out of it, but luckily the cartilage was unbroken. They were nice, and probably useful, but they precluded any chance that he could get medical care at an earthen hospital.
"Perhaps if Yosho can get a hold of one of his contacts in the government..." Kyokki trailed off. "I think they may have a physician in the alliance." Ayeka nodded, and moved closer to the prostrate man, lifting the bandages that covered his stomach, concerned at the constant seepage of blood, bright red blood.
"I wonder if they could be related to us," She mused softly, "I've never seen anyone quite like this man, but maybe in one of the more obscure sections of the galaxy." She talked as she replaced the bandages on his stomach, further concerned at the way his ribs protruded on his desiccated frame. "He looks half-starved."
"You think he may have been running from something?" Kyokki asked cautiously as she handed Ayeka a bowl of steaming water into which the princess dipped a towel to sponge off his face.
Just then Sasami approached cautiously, rubbing her eyes, stepping softly on the boards. She spoke softly, so as not to wake up their patient. "How is he?" She whispered.
Ayeka straightened, putting the soiled towel back into the bowl and taking it from Kyokki. The two women exchanged a long look, then Ayeka nodded. She took her sister's hand and walked her into the kitchen. Once there she put the cloth in a plastic bag to be carefully cleaned later. She washed her hands, closing her eyes and thinking. "Sasami," She said finally, turning to her little sister. "It's going to be a hard time for him. We don't know how long he will take to heal, or even if he will." Sasami sniffled, and Ayeka moved to her, hugging her close. "I'm just telling you this so you will be able to prepare yourself if worse comes to worse." She put her hand under the blue-haired princess' chin and lifted until she met her eyes. "But cheer up Sasami!" She said as brightly as she could. "Kyokki says he is getting better, and I believe her."
"Okay, big sister." Sasami smiled bravely and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "I guess I'll start breakfast, then." With that she moved away from her sister, picking up an apron and donning it, immediately going into the familiar actions of her favorite activity.
The traveler, on the outside, was completely dead to the world. But inside his mind, though unaware of his surroundings and his current situation, he was wide awake, and very confused. He was standing on the pulpit stone that had been near his home, a large pillar of rock that thrust itself out of the river water. It was almost completely upright, but had plenty of handholds and footholds eroded into the sides to make it fairly simple to scale. The top was flat, and just large enough to accommodate about two people.
The world revolved around him as he stood there, but it was not his world as he remembered it. This version was soft and fresh in blue and green, the breeze was clean and gentle as it tousled his hair, the water was still and clear, and the twin red suns burned steadily, not muted by a constant haze. There was no smell of burning, no razed hills, nothing but unspoiled nature.
This had been the dream, and he was not unaware that he was dreaming, for this view was impossible. The dream itself was no longer possible. The world revolved slowly around him, and as it revolved he was suddenly aware of presences surrounding him. They were still as the world turned beneath them and he circled within them.
"So sad." Whispered a voice like the soft sigh of the wind. And the speaker came into view, what appeared to be an ethereal young man, with hair the color of the sky, from dusk to dawn. "So sad." The young man repeated.
"Such loss." Came the next voice as the next figure came into view. Her soft words held the feel of softly glowing embers. Her hair glowed in the same color as the suns, and her eyes were like the sky at noon. "Such loss." She revolved out of his view.
"Unavoidable." Rumbled a voice as deep and rich as the earth. And the next figure came into his sight. He had the form of a middle aged man, his hair and skin colored like the rich earth and his eyes green as grass. "Unavoidable."
Then came the last, another woman. "But still..." He voice was like water running over smooth stones. Her hair was like a stream flowing down her back. "Their peace was harsh." She continued. And the other three seemed to nod.
Tei'rn tried not to hyperventilate. Zei'zon, Ky'oi, Son'ar, and Zu'nmi. The god of wind, the goddess of fire, the god of earth, and the goddess of water. He had known of them since his youth, and his teachings from the priests and priestesses in the temples. Their pictures were surprisingly accurate, since none claimed that they had ever seen them. The deities of his faith were standing on the air surrounding him.
Zu'nmi glanced at him, though the other three seemed to be unaware of his presence. Tei'rn gasped at the sadness in her eyes. Then the others were gone, and only Zu'nmi remained. She stepped onto the pulpit and faced Tei'rn as the scenery revolved around them.
<<Is this real?>> He asked quietly, awed.
<<This place no longer exists but in your own heart and mind.>> She answered, her eyes, the delicate pink of the inside of a conch shell, surveyed the land. She blinked slowly and the landscape disappeared. They still stood upon the stone, but the beauty of his home has become a field of rubble in the blackness of space. Only the two red suns and the stars remained the same.
<<Then I dream of fanciful things.>> He sighed, surveying the wreckage. He closed his eyes to block out the vision. When they opened, the scenery had changed yet again. The surroundings were completely unfamiliar to him. He and the goddess were standing on a huge hill, looking down into a valley. At the bottom was a lake, and a building, next to the building was a garden, much like the one he had carefully cultivated before the end. So he recognized that much, but all the structures and plants that he saw were strange to him. And instead of two scarlet suns, there was only one big yellow one giving its light to the soil.
<<Is this a dream too?>> Tei'rn asked Zu'nmi.
<<No, this is real.>> She smiled. <<I have hopes that you will like this place, Tei'rn.>> It was the first time she had used his name. She swept her arm around. <<Here you can live, you can have some of the peace you dreamed of.>>
<<I will live here?>> He asked, his eyes silver and wide. <<They will accept me?>> A few tears leaked down his face.
<<Acceptance,>> She murmured, touching his face gently. The goddess began to fade away. <<Perhaps even love.>> She vanished with the chime of dropping water.
<<Love?>> He whispered incredulously.

Tsunami reappeared beneath the shading branches of the Funaho tree. That had been difficult, she hoped she had been successful in keeping it from Sasami, sometimes the strength of their link surprised even her. She winced as a blare of sound met her ears, and only her ears, and murmured, "I was so careful, too." She sighed, and vanished again.

"He's been talking in his sleep, but nothing that I can recognize." Kyokki told Ayeka as she prepared herself to leave. "You should have no trouble with him, though."
The elder princess nodded, taking a chair near where the injured traveler lay, his battered body pillowed as much as possible.
Kyokki nodded too, "Try to keep him from moving too much. I would not go but this is perfectly necessary."
Ayeka nodded again, holding back the curiosity that rose in her breast. Sasami had gone to take a nap and she and Kyokki had been keeping watch, Ayeka sewing and Kyokki reading one of Noboyuki's mangas. She chuckled occasionally, turning the pages rapidly. Suddenly she had stopped, her eyes focusing on the middle distance somewhere above Ayeka's head. After a moment she lowered her gaze again, glancing at their injured traveler, then looking at Ayeka, her face serious. She had asked Ayeka to look after things for a while, and now she was ready to go.
The red-haired woman trotted out the door, and Ayeka followed a moment later, intending to call out a farewell. But when she stepped out the door, her sister-in-law had vanished.
Ayeka turned back, her brow furrowing, returning to her watch over the traveler. The elder princess sat again, taking up her sewing into her lap and beginning to work again at the scarlet rose she was embroidering on the dark violet background. She took her time, her delicate fingers making the tiny stitches with quick, sure movements.

He climbed down off of the mountainside, wandering through the landscape of his mind. Finally he stood in the valley, walking around the silver lake and approaching the building. The flowers in the garden gave off a lovely aroma, even in his dream image.
Tei'rn moved further, walking around the building. It was very unlike the smooth-walled, solid structures he used to live in. The man peeped in one of the windows, cautiously. Inside he saw a young woman, her head bent over her lap, her dark hair falling forward. She glanced up and he caught a glimpse of scarlet eyes. He blinked, tugging on the end of his braid, absently. He put a hand on the glass, then gave a yelp as his body followed after it, falling into the structure.
He popped up, his face startled. The woman seemed not to have noticed his presence. He cleared his throat, not wishing to startle her. She still did not look up. He walked over to stand before her and waved a hand in front of her face. <<Peace?>> He said questioningly. He made a face as his actions still elicited no reaction, and turned, tapping his foot. It was then that he saw the figure lying on a pile of soft bedding.
It was he, his hair, peace forbid, unbound and falling around his shoulders. His face was colored with bruises and gashed in several places. He was still except for the rise and fall of his chest, but the mounds beneath the blankets hinted at more injuries out of sight.
Tei'rn tentatively reached out and touched his comatose self's shoulder and all went black.

Ayeka dropped her embroidery, standing quickly as the traveler sat up with a gasp, his eyes open and searching. Almost immediately, however, he sank back again, groaning. His eyes stayed open, though, silver and wide. She touched her headpiece, reassuring herself that it was still there, and cautiously approached him. His eyes fastened on her and he spoke, calmly for all his nervous eye-rolling.
"Ke'kwa sei?" He asked. "Jeu'sei?"
She shook her head in confusion. The language he was using was completely unfamiliar to her, and she knew at least a few words in quite a few languages from her realm. "I'm sorry, I do not understand."
He peered at her, and she could tell he understood her no better than she did him. He repeated, more slowly this time. "Jeu'sei?" He pointed at her, then he pointed to himself, "Sei Tei'rn."
"Saturn?" she asked.
He shook his head, pointing at himself again. "Tei'rn."
"Tern." She said, and he nodded enthusiastically, even though her pronunciation was quite different than his own slur. He pointed at her again. "I'm Ayeka." She said, touching her own chest.
"Im'ai'ka." He repeated.
"Ayeka," she said again.
"Ai'ka." He said, smiling as she nodded. He had a nice smile, she noted, in his pale, gaunt face. He cautiously moved his hands, seeming relieved to find them undamaged, and to Ayeka's surprise, he reached to gather his hair in a bundle and quickly wove it into a plait. "Ly'atri, biser ten Ai'ka?" He tugged at the end of his braid, which his hand grasped closely to keep it from falling loose.
"Your hair...?" She thought a moment. "Ah." She turned to her sewing kit and pulled out a length of scarlet thread, handing it to him. He smiled his thanks and quickly used it to bind the plait, sighing in obvious relief. While he was doing this she reached onto the covered tray that had sat by her side, picking up a cup. When his hands dropped, his energy sapped from even this small task, she held it to him, her eyebrows raised inquiringly.
He eyed the cup with longing, but had used up his strength with the binding of his hair, that simple task leaving his arms heavy and useless. Ai'ka seemed to notice this and she moved to help him sit up, holding the cup to his lips as he drank eagerly.
What bliss it was! He had never tasted anything so sweet and heavenly. It spread a warmth throughout his entire body. He nodded at the cup as Ai'ka turned to fill it again. <<What is it?>> He asked, trying to convey his question with small heavy gestures.
Ai'ka pursed her lips, trying to decipher his meaning, finally her eyes lit up, and she said "Tea." Indicating the liquid in the cup.
"Tea." He repeated. <<Thank you, Ai'ka.>> He murmured as she once again helped him to drink, enough strength returning to his arms to allow him to reach up and cover her hands with his, trying to help himself drink. She let him, but moved her hands away quickly as soon as he was finished, reaching for a bowl. <<What is it?>> He asked again, and this time she did not have to decipher the meaning.
"Rice porridge." She said distinctly, lifting the spoon to his lips.
Yet another moment of bliss came to Tei'rn, as she helped to feed him. Though he was uncomfortable with being fed like an infant, he could not deny that he did not have the strength to do it himself. The porridge was sweet and warm and soft, and it filled his stomach like it had not been in so long. They continued like this for a while, and every time he took a rest between swallows he pointed out something on the tray and asked what it was, repeating the words Ai'ka gave him as though they were the holy scriptures he had had to memorize what seemed like so long ago. Then, his stomach full and his spirit light, Tei'rn fell into the deep realm of dreamless, healing sleep.

They met in their usual place, somewhere nowhere, and yet everywhere, someplace between, though between what few could say. Perhaps it was between truth and fantasy, or between dreams and consciousness. They didn't really care exactly where it was, only that it was a place that they could go and be assured that none would find them, or be able to overhear. This was a place where reality could be bent, and so bend it they did.
Son'ar was the first there, as was proper since he was the one who had called this meeting of spirits. Zei'zon was the next arrive, his long hair fluttering in the windlessness of the other plain. He looked at his cousin inquiringly, with his night-dark eyes, but he would not speak until the others arrived, that was the tradition. Ky'oi arrived a few moments after the wind god, her look ironic. She sat in mid-air, her feet crossed at the ankles, and looked impatient, but she too, even as the most hot-tempered of the four, would hold her peace. Finally Zu'nmi arrived, and the other three stared at her, the only one who did not look a little upset was Ky'oi. Zu'nmi herself looked a little nervous.
"Something that should not be here has set foot upon the soil of this place." Son'ar said deeply.
"I have felt my wind pass around it." Zei'zon said airily. "But I knew not what it was."
Ky'oi remained silent.
"I could not let them perish to the last seed." Zu'nmi protested, "Only after one other did my heart hold closely this planet and those people who now are as dust." Her eyes filled with tears and Son'ar groaned silently.
She always did this, her tears could solve arguments that even the best negotiators would despair of. Zei'zon laughed breathily, and turned to his earthen cousin. "why do you object so strenuously?" He asked, his eyes wise. "Surely a single seed cannot disturb the balance of the world it has landed on. Not a seed such as this one."
"I object not to his survival, but would merely question my cousin on why she felt such a need for secrecy." Son'ar said with narrowed eyes. Ky'oi watched the three with serious eyes, and Son'ar noticed her silence. "What says my fiery cousin on this matter?"
Ky'oi stayed silent a moment longer, marshalling her thoughts. "I see nothing wrong with allowing this man to remain and thrive." She said finally.
Zei'zon looked at her narrowly. "You have softened since you entered the mortal realm."
Son'ar snorted. "I think it has more to do with that young shrine keeper than anything else. Whatever possessed you to marry him?"
Ky'oi frowned. "The choice was not a simple one of logic, it was one of the heart."
"Always passionate." Zei'zon spoke again, "I suppose I should not have been surprised." His tone was amused. "But we have gotten off the topic."
Zu'nmi had been looking relieved at this interruption, and now her voice was calmer. "I am glad to have my cousin's support on this matter." Ky'oi acknowledged this with a brief nod of her head. "There may be that he has another part to play than just surviving, and I have high hopes that caring for him will be a salve to Ayeka's battered spirit."
"Or more?" Ky'oi asked in amusement. "I recall this one when he was a boy, he was very promising." She glanced at Zei'zon. "Particularly with the playing of the winds, wasn't he, cousin?"
"Ah, yes," The wind-god said softly, "It is he. I remember now. I would often linger when he played, and his song was one to make the soul weep with sorrow and cry for joy at the same time."
"The instrument survived." Ky'oi said significantly.
"I am glad." Zei'zon breathed.
Son'ar looked disgruntled. "I see I am outnumbered." The rest nodded. "Then he shall be nourished."

Kyokki turned from where she was overlooking the sleeping patient to where Ayeka had fallen asleep on the couch, her head pillowed on her arms. The hour was very early, and Kyokki was tired. She had trouble getting used to the limitations of a mortal form. It was merely the matter that her spirit was split, one part, her physical form, was here, on earth, the rest of her, most of her powers and much of her supernatural awareness were elsewhere, looking over those other places that were in her charge.
She went over to check on Tei'rn, feeling his cool forehead with one slim hand. He had no fever, and his color was better. It would still take him long to heal, though. She noticed the tray of empty dishes and smiled as she took it to the kitchen. So, he had woken briefly. And there were no ill affects that she could see, other than Ayeka's tiredness. She wondered how the young seed would fare in this unfamiliar environment. At least the soil by which he would be nourished was not hostile. She was relieved that Sonnar had decided to throw his support behind the nourishment of the young man. Otherwise he would have had even more difficulties than he was now facing. At least he would be able to eat whatever he wished.
And Zeishon would wish to hear the music again, she was sure of that. She longed for it as well. Recalling the days he had lingered by a small fire, playing. The boy was quite an artist, she thought as she washed the soiled dishes, yawning occasionally. She was still unsure of Tsunami's motives, they were as obscure as always.
She yawned again as she placed the clean dishes in the cabinet. She had never had to sleep before, but she was tired. The errant and always passionate goddess moved back into the living room and, taking a bit of unoccupied couch, she curled up and gave in to slumber.

Sasami awoke just as the first birds were beginning their morning serenades. She had to blink a few times to make sure of where she was this morning. She had had another vivid dream, not a frightening one, but still, it made her nervous. She had been in the company of three other people, and they were speaking to her, but their words were silence. It was as though she could no longer hear at all when she had this dream. And also she was in a strange place, a place that seemed to be nowhere, and yet everywhere at the same time. She could see other realities flash in and out around the others as they spoke their silent words, but always they were there and gone in half the space of a heartbeat.
She was not unused to these sort of things, as her body and her mind aged, and as she became closer to realizing her merging with Tsunami, she more and more shared these bits of the goddess's consciousness. Perhaps the goddess was preparing her for the time when their minds would be one. Sasami had the feeling that it would not be much longer. She really didn't mind, it was almost natural to her. The biggest fear she had had was Ayeka's censure when she had told her that she was not her real sister. But now she was sure of her love, of all of their love. Now she accepted what had been given to her, her life, and also the sharing that came with it.
Sasami sat up and yawned, stretching. She stood, unbinding her long hair as she walked over to the mirror. She looked at herself for a long moment, seeing the face of the goddess, though a bit younger, looking back at her. Soon would be the time for her to shed the hairstyle of a child and assume that of a woman. She pulled the long mane of blue hair back, turning her head this way and that. It would look nice, she decided, as she bound her hair into her pigtails, when the time came.
She made sure to tread lightly, as she made her way down the stairs after getting dressed. She did not wish to disturb the delicate health of the man who had crashed in the mountains. A seed. She paused in mid-step, now, where did that thought come from? She shook her head, and continued on her way. Sasami could see three figures in the living room when she reached it, one was Ayeka, lying on her stomach on one bit of couch, a blanket tucked around her. On another bit was Kyokki, curled with her head resting on one arm. And on the floor, in the soft nest they had made him so as not to further aggravate his injuries, was the traveler. His eyes were watching her, a bit of bright silver in a thin and pale face.
"Good morning," She said quietly, making sure not to wake the others. His eyes followed her as she came closer.
"Se'ra Isun." He replied just as softly.
"Did you sleep well?" She asked.
He considered. "Ki're saimon, cha soht beir'sed. Intotset'ioll camn." He replied.
She smiled understandingly, her hand resting briefly on his forehead, finding it cool. "It will grow better, I'm sure." She told him brightly. "By the way, my name is Sasami."
"Cho, Za'za'mi, sei Tei'rn." He told her, his hand brushing his chest.
"I'm very pleased to meet you Tei'rn," Sasami smiled, her inflection and pronunciation of his name perfect. "I'm going to go make breakfast now, you need to eat if you're going to get stronger." And then she moved off into the kitchen, and he closed his eyes tiredly. Neither wondered at the strange way they could understand each other. Neither found it unnatural at all, and neither would think to comment on it.
Kyokki looked at the man for another brief moment before she again closed her eyes.

It was not much longer before Yosho returned, bringing with him a physician who could be trusted to keep things to himself from their alliance. The man looked over the traveler, his brow furrowed. Yosho sat next to his sleeping wife, watching. Finally the doctor turned to the priest.
"In most ways he is human, as far as I can tell." He said, packing his instruments in the bag. Behind him Tei'rn watched, his eyes glazed with pain from the rigors of the examination. "You have done well in his care without me, I commend you. He should heal well." He handed Yosho two bottles before he stood and turned towards the door. "Give him a teaspoon of this one every eight hours, it is a pain reliever. Dose him with a tablespoon twice a day with the antibiotic." While he spoke, he wrote the instructions on the bottles' respective labels. "I am cautious to give him anything else. I'll be back in about six weeks to take the cast off his leg." Yosho nodded and saw him out.
When he came back, breakfast was served and Kyokki and Ayeka roused, still yawning sleepily. And all along Tei'rn watched them from his nest of blankets, his voice silent and his eyes wide. While the rest sat at the table, Ayeka went into the kitchen and took the tray that Sasami had made for their patient. Tern was his name, she reminded herself. She returned and knelt beside him, laying the tray across his lap and helping him to sit. She took a spoonful of the porridge and held it out to his mouth, but stopped, startled, when he laid his hand on her arm, "Ai'ka." He said softly. "Spoon...food, Tei'rn." He struggled to find the words with his minimal vocabulary. "Tei'rn...food, Tei'rn."
Ayeka's eyes, which had been confused, brightened in understanding. "You want to feed yourself." She stated. He nodded, not that he knew exactly what she was saying, but he saw that she understood. She handed him the spoon and left briefly, retuning with her own tray.
As he carefully lifted the spoon to his mouth he watched her out of the corner of his eye. She was watching him carefully as well, ready to assist should he exhaust his limited strength. But then, his spoon paused, as something on her tray caught his eye. "Kist'ry," He whispered. Ayeka looked at him. He set his spoon down, lifting a trembling hand to touch the rosebud on her tray.
"Rose." She said, as his fingers gently felt the velvety-soft petals. And he dutifully repeated after her, a wonder in his eyes. Ayeka considered, then moved the small vase which held the bloom to his tray. "Tern, eat."
He glanced at her, then once again picked up his spoon, eating as carefully as before, but it seemed he could not keep his eyes off of the flower. Ayeka was startled at this reaction, it was almost as though the tiny blossom were the most precious of gems. After a while, Tei'rn discovered the sugar bowl, and she watched in astonishment as he devoured the white crystals voraciously. She glanced over her shoulder at her family, and they too, were watching with raised eyebrows. Kyokki shrugged, and they all finished their breakfasts.
Tei'rn settled back, satiated. The rest of the food had been delightful, but that stuff that Ai'ka had named 'sugar' had filled him like nothing else. He already felt stronger. He watched the people of the house as they moved around him. There was Za'za'mi, Ai'ka, Ko'ki, and Yo'zo. He smiled as his eyes drifted shut. It felt more like home than home had.
Several weeks had passed, and Tei'rn was finally able to move around a bit, leaning on Yosho's shoulder, or using a long staff of bamboo. He was learning the language slowly but surely. He had never been very good at languages.
On the first trip outside he had haltingly asked to be taken to his ship, and Kyokki had been the one to guide him there. She had helped him down the side of the crater, and watched as he moved cautiously around the wreckage. He had been dressed in one of Yosho's shrine outfits as they were around the same height and build.
Kyokki observed as he poked his hand into the passenger cabin, and his hand emerged holding something which he tucked inside his robes as he turned back to her. "Thank you, Ko'ki." He said. Patting the spot he had carefully put the item. "Tei'rn feared for safe."
She nodded. "I wonder why we didn't find it before, though."
Tei'rn smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Wind protect, peace of wind." He made a gesture, kissing his fist then touching it to his heart. He made that gesture often, usually when he said cho, which he felt had much the same meaning as peace. "Peace that hands no hurt." He said. "Tei'rn play...soon."
Kyokki hoped she had kept the excitement out of her eyes. A few moments after, Ayeka had rushed up, out of breath, and scolded her sister-in-law for taking him out so far.
During the time he had been there, Ayeka had been his primary caregiver. She took the responsibility very seriously, and tended him gently. She still found peculiar, though, his penchant for putting sugar on everything he ate. But it was only a small strangeness. Other than that, he seemed to take to the life well, and with a nobility that sometimes gave her pause. She wondered what he had been in his past life. But for all her diffident questions he had gently refused to speak of it, merely making that gesture of fist to lips, then heart, each time she asked.
It was lucky that Ayeka had shown up, really. Tei'rn had been exhausted by his efforts, and he slumped between the two women the entire way back, though he made the effort to walk on his own. His silver eyes showed weariness, both at his own weakness and at the short journey he had undertaken to retrieve the item that only he and Kyokki knew the value of.
Kyokki left them after they had settled the man on the couch, and Ayeka fetched him a cup of tea. He did not recognize her, thankfully. She had been cautious with him for a while, but not a single glimmer of recognition entered his eyes when he saw her. She made her way up the steps of the shrine, her brow furrowed.
Tei'rn was quiet, and Ayeka wondered what was on his mind. She could feel his eyes on her as she moved around. She entered the kitchen to wash their cups and when she returned to the living room, he had vanished. She looked around, her eyes wild. "Tern?" She asked. Where had he gone?

Tei'rn settled in among the flowers, inhaling their scent, and removed the small bundle he had tucked into his shirt. He carefully unwrapped it, spilling the precious contents into his hand. He held it before his eyes, examining it closely. It was a slender cylinder, made of wood, that most precious of materials of the planet of his birth. There were several valves and levers that were closely carved into it. That was all there was to it, but appearances can be deceiving.
The man closed his eyes and held the cylinder in his slender hands, and it began to sing. It was a song of the wind, gentle, quiet, with a depth that one could hear, but could never fathom. It soared out from his hands, which moved gently on the surface. He raised the cylinder to his lips and it sang in many voices, of the wind, of the earth, the sky, the fire of the sun and the water. It rang with the notes his breath gave to it, telling a story without words, of hopes and dreams calling across the stars, it wept of the loss of faith, it sighed at the loss of all. Then the cylinder sang of hopes shattered, leaving only one sliver of light. Finally it sang of new hope, a gentle song of a new dream. The song died away, and Tei'rn opened his eyes.
They stood there before him, Ko'ki, Za'za'mi, Yo'zo and Ai'ka. He smiled gently and lay the instrument, its song now a quiet murmur, on his lap. Ko'ki had tears running down her face, and Ai'ka and Za'za'mi looked close to weeping themselves. Yo'zo sat beside Tei'rn, his face set. "What was that song?" He asked quietly.
Tei'rn looked at Ai'ka. "Answer to question could not be word." He said. And she understood.


End of Section One.