Private Tales Forastero

[Kishou]

Ignoring her tone, it raised its spear towards the canopy. As if heeding a silent command, the forest loudly rustled as it opened to the stars. Though she could not see and the being knew it, it did so anyways. The spear remained pointed up, and it looked up as well with pale eyes.

"Something not of this world- a daughter of the night sky. Answer me this, pitiful creature. What memory have you of the humans that birthed you?"

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

Sensing a leavening of the immediate threat, Amore attempted to sit up. Her shoulder felt as though it were on fire and still bled freely - she could feel it saturating the silk of her robes. Wincing as she attempted to touch at it, feel how badly it had been torn, her fingers quaked at the heat pouring off the wound.

"My mother was a port whore who died in labor. The Matron of the brothel gave me to the church when I displayed magic abilities in infancy. I do not know who my father was. He could have been anyone."

 

[Kishou]

Churches. Orders. Sects. Lodges. Guilds. Leagues.

Organizations meant to control the ignorant. The figure's stern expression soured further as it lowered its spear, and the canopy closed, blocking the view of the stars.

"Is that what you were told? What daughter of a whore and a nameless man shows prodigious talent in infancy?" It scowled. "Content with the givings of others, you fail to ask questions of yourself, your thinking is the thinking of those above you. Did you presumptuously think yourself to be the hand and will of your God? I pity you, if only for having lived separated from the truth of your being."

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

"I will not be poisoned against the people who took me in," Amore replied, her voice finding some new strength at the notion of this person speaking so ill of the Church and the Brightfather.

"I owe everything to them - my life was forfeit without them."

Brow setting over an expression that still contained parts of pain, fright, exhaustion, and worry, Amore turned her head slightly, "Where is Kishou...the swordsman I traveled with?"

 

[Kishou]

It responded with a low hum as if to concede the point. Lied to or not, she was cared for nonetheless. Given a far more comfortable life than many would ever get to live. The mysterious being remained silent as he turned and looked down at Kishou's still form.

"Off to the side. Unconscious but alive." It knelt next to her and set the miniature pagoda it the grass. "It will ward away any Jurei." It stood up. "You do yourself a disservice by remaing ignorant of your identity. We will not meet again. Be well."

And just as quietly as the being came, it left.

The swordsman's motionless body rose and feel as he breathed, and he would not regain consciousness until several minutes after their savior's departure.

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

It was disconcerting for this unknown person...being, to continue to berate her about ignorance of her identity. How could anyone but the Church know who she was? Why now, in a foreign land across the globe, would such an accusation come to light? It made no sense to her, and nonsense was unwelcome in her life.

Frowning as it took leave, Amore reached out with the hand of her good arm to find the small padoga statuette settled in the grass. She gripped it carefully, pulling the thing to her chest like the precious gift it was, and then slowly, painfully, pushed herself to her feet. The burn of her body from the running lingered, causing her to question if they might make any further progress tonight.

Standing there, swaying slightly through the haze of a spinning head and a shoulder wound still throbbing, she took a moment to try and gain some form of bearings on her surroundings. Off to the side. Unconscious but alive. Terribly unhelpful for a blind person.

"Kishou?" she called gently, turning her head and straining to listen for his breathing. A soft wheezing drifted to her from her right, so she carefully shuffled her way in that direction. Amore's toes eventually found Kishou's legs. She staggered, bending to kneel by him and setting the pagoda down to pat her good hand across his form, finding his face.

"Kishou, are you alright? Wake up, please."

 

[Kishou]

Eyes fluttered open as Kishou finally came to, flinching from the touch of Amore's hand. Twisting his aching neck, and upon realizing whom the hand was attached to, he let his cheek plop back into the grass.

"Thank goodness," no small amount of relief washed over him as his voice wavered, "thank goodness..."

He pushed himself up to his knees, fighting the pain of several cuts along his arms and face and neck, many shallow, and the deeper slashes along his back and shoulder. The beautiful blue kimono stuck to him where he had bled through.

"It's cold," he quietly remarked and turned to her, "what happened? I remember fire, then he was standing above you with a spear." He groaned and wiped his hand over his face before looking over Amore. He frowned at her, "you're hurt." The pagoda figurine caught his eye, and he took it into one of his hands, turning it and looking it over.

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

It... was cold. Amore had not noticed until he'd said it. The very second later a shiver ran its course down her spine. She shrugged into the sensation and flinched at the burn of her shoulder.

"Mm ... he ... it," the Priestess sighed in faint frustration, blind gaze dropping away beneath a knit brow, "thought I was something I am not. Left behind a totem to ward off the - what did you call them? Jory?"

Her hand lifted to her arm just below the bitten shoulder, the dark and angry red having seeped through all the layers of her robes. "I'm okay for now, what about you?"

 

[Kishou]

“Joo-ray,” he shifted on his knees and winced, “what do you mean something you’re not?”

He turned the pagoda in his hand, frowning. “I’m fine,” he mumbled and carefully set the statuette in the grass between them, “I just... need a moment.”

Out of the thousands of deities worshiped by his people, the most famous six were referred to as the Roku-fukujin. The devout followers of Kubara, the patron God of warriors, were said to carry spears and pagodas like Kubara himself.

Kishou had never seen a towering blue-skinned man before.

The swordsman felt confused and lost. Just when things seemed to go well, they walked alongside death and scraped away with their lives. His broad shoulders slumped and a heavy sigh passed his lips.

“I’m sorry.”

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

Amore's expression strained as she thought back to the stranger's words.

"He said I was not of this world," the hand on her arm slipped down to the hem of her sleeve, reaching into the bell cut to find the stowaway pocket within the lining, "a daughter of the night sky. I take it only to mean I am not of your world or your sky. Perhaps he was waxing poetic with a foreigner."

When she withdrew her hand again she had the small glass bottle in her fingers and held it up, "I can smell the blood on you. Take some of this, it will help you heal. And don't apologize - this wasn't your fault."

 

[Kishou]

“Sounds like nonsense,” Kishou grumbled, “if you saw him, you would not have taken him for the flirtatious type.”

His brows furrowed, “No, thank you. You need every drop of that. I am fine, it’s nothing serious.” Though perhaps it was mildly concerning.

His mind somewhat cleared now, he considered their options.

“Our things.. do we go back for them?”

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

"Philosophical, then," Amore relented, finding that she was somewhat glad to not have seen any of tonight's monstrosities. She frowned as he declined the potion, "You are the guide, without you I die out here. Please take some."

The frown deepened at the mention of their things. That meant going back to their little campsite at the tree, "Will this ... totem work on that tree?"

 

[Kishou]

Frowning, Kishou plucked the vial from between her fingers and gingerly uncorked the glass stopper. “I’m telling you, I’m okay.” He carefully dropped three splashes into his mouth and grimaced. Bitter. As it rolled down his tongue, it began to warm his throat. Perhaps it was his expectations getting the better of him, but the potion made him feel better almost instantly.

“If I’m honest, I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

"Of course you are," Amore cooed and gave a wane smile, "and now you'll be more okay."

She leaned on good faith that he was actually taking it and not pretending to. When he handed her the vial back she carefully gave herself a drop on the tongue and stowed it away in its pocket again. The relief of searing agony of her shoulder was immediate and a warmth spread through her that warded off the chill of the night. She felt her exhaustion abate, some strength return to her limbs.

"Hmm," a sound of reprieve, "I placed the tack and supplies just off from that tree. It shouldn't have been bothered...I think. It would be worth the effort to get it."

 

[Kishou]

The swordsman nodded and took the ward. "Very well," he said, groaning as he stood. His fingers brushed against her good arm as he offered his hand to her.

"I didn't think... I feel like a fool. To be caught completely unarmed..." Kishou grumbled as he led her back towards the path, then back from where they came until he saw the faint glow of a dying campfire, then cautiously walked past the trees until they reached the bloodstained clearing. Death lingered in the air.

The saddle sat right where she'd left it. Under the tree.

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

"You couldn't have known this would happen," Amore frowned, giving the man's arm a gentle squeeze, "we are both still alive. For that I am most grateful."

She took a moment, walking at his side, to share a silent prayer of thanks to the Sunfather. Even while he slumbered he watched over his children in his dreams. Regardless of what that ... thing had said to her, she would count her blessings from her God and no other.

After a time Kishou stilled and the scent of death wafted in thick and heavy. It turned Amore's gut into tight knots as she tried, with great difficulty, not to think of the fate of the horse. Even if it had not been her personal mount, the death of it made her heart ill.

"Are they still there?" she asked over a hushed voice, "We only need the saddle bags."

Carrying the bedrolls seemed like a waste of time. If they could make it to the next village with their food, supplies then that was all they needed.

 

[Kishou]

"Still there. Would you like to go?" he flatly asked, then quietly snorted, "give me the ward."

Fingers tightly curled around the totem as he shuffled closer, holding his breath as he passed under long, thin branches. The occasional rustling of branches overhead was enough to send his heart into a frenzy. What lasted only several seconds felt like an eternity to Kishou as he returned unharmed, saddlebags in one hand. As he walked from the tree's reach, the swordsman wiped his brow and let out a heavy sigh. He tossed the saddlebags over his shoulder.

"I would like to leave now," he stowed the ward in one of the pouches.

***​

What would have been a day's trip turned into two, and three more were spent recovering in the village below the temple. Kishou wanted to leave the next morning and spent the last minutes sitting on the windowsill of their second-floor room, looking out over the village as he polished off what remained of a bottle of sake.

"We're so close," he quietly remarked.

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

Amore shifted slightly where she lay on the bedroll. Their travels had made it easy to sleep due to exhaustion, but once her energy returned she found herself falling back into the same issues from before. Being blind, her circadian cycle was difficult to maintain if she wasn't keeping to a regimented routine of physical and mental exercise. As much as they needed the rest, it was making a mess of her sleep cycle.

Their walks out through the village had to be short. Kishou's red-haired companion had drawn a fair amount of attention. More than once they'd been stopped for the villagers to marvel at the novelty of her.

"How much farther?" she asked quietly while carefully running her fingers over the totem they'd held on to.

 

[Kishou]

"Without any interruptions?" he poured the sake into a cup, watching as the last drops rolled over the bottle's lip, "just a few hours."

Kishou took a sip, savoring the sake's sweetness. "The path is a steep but safe one."

He finished what remained in the cup in a single go before walking across the room to the bedroll. He sat next to Amore, leaning back on his hands, and watched with a small smile as she touched the statuette.

"I think you will love the hot springs," he said for what was probably the hundredth time.

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

That was a relief to hear. At least she thought it was. Somehow knowing their destination would soon be reached was a reason for excited, but also some trepidation. Her doubts were ever present. Doubts that she could be healed, that this old man could help her, or that he was even still alive. No evidence had been offered to the contrary yet.

"Hmm," a brief smile touched her lips with the delicacy of a bird lighting upon a branch for just a single breath, "so you've said. Are you so certain a foreigner would not spoil their pristine nature?"

 

[Kishou]

"Oh, please," he snorted, "you? Spoil it?"

He laid down on his chest and rested his chin in the palm of his hand, propping himself on his elbow.

"Certainly not. I can promise that you've never felt anything as relaxing in your life."

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

A small sigh left her lips, the totem coming to rest on her belly, held there by both hands.

"I used to bathe in fire," she remarked, "the flames never burned me, but they were ... purifying in a way. My Matron called me her little phoenix."

 

[Kishou]

"I've never seen anyone bathe in fire," he almost dreamily remarked. Kishou could clearly picture her delicate hand reaching into a fire and pulling away, completely unscathed. He remembered thinking, How can a person, without any hesitation, reach into a fire as if it were harmless?

Not of this world. Daughter of the night sky.

He frowned. Perhaps Toji would understand better than either of them.

"Purifying," he echoed and smirked, "and what did the little phoenix need to be purified of, I wonder?"

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

"The sins I took upon myself from the heathenous and non-believers," Amore answered, voice low and not nearly so proud as it normally was when she spoke of her faith. There were moments of her life that brought her to question things. Gentle questions, and only since coming to befriend a non-believer had she given them much thought otherwise.

"Fire may purify, but those stains of malaise must go somewhere. A heathen cannot control where, but a Priest can."

 

[Kishou]

Kishou pushed a lock of hair behind Amore's ear as she spoke, a small smile on his face.

"I think about the island," he cooed, "Quite often, actually. I think of you standing there, under that dilapidated statue of your Sunfather, comforting the soldiers and sailors through prayer."

A gentle sigh passed his lips. "I thought you were amazing."