Private Tales Forastero

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
And sleep he did. Kishou slept for several days, tended to by the best Doctors and the same Healer that had helped Amore after her attack. She remained nearby for a large portion of the time, ready to move to his side should he wake - and sometimes he did, but lucidly.

The time she spent away was done so with purpose. The Priestess had been fooled once by the Chairman and she vowed that she would not be fooled again. When Kishou finally awoke, she was there waiting for him. They were back in their room and he in his bed. Amore was seated in the open screen doorway that lead out to the courtyard beyond, silently contemplating their next move to the capital while a cup of tea sat cooling in her hands.

She heard him wake through his breathing as it shifted from the calm resting rhythm to that of a man sore, tired, and likely a little concerned or confused.

"You are in our room," she hushed to him from where she sat, "do you need anything?"
 
When he opened his eyes, everything was bright for a moment. Blurry. He could only make out the general shapes of the wooden beams above. Had he finally kicked the bucket and arrived in heav-

"You are in our room," said Amore.

"Not dead yet, huh..." He rubbed his face and muttered through his hand. Trying to sit up was too tall a task for the swordsman, so he kept flat on his back. His hand fell from his face and landed on his covers with a soft paf. With a groan, he rolled over onto his side to look at her back.

"Yeah," he slurred a response, "Could you come here for a moment?"
 
  • Cthulhoo rage
Reactions: Amorea Delarosa
Amore didn't move. Grounded in place like a statue, she did not even look back to him - not that she needed to. There was a simmering anger in her veins, one beget only by one of the few acts a person could do to truly move the Priestess to such emotion. She a beacon of calm and peace, brought to this heat of thought by the man in the room not just once, not even just twice, but thrice now.

She'd been keeping track, though not entirely on purpose.

"You lied to me," there would be no candying this affront, not even in his state. They were to leave again soon and her grievance needed to be aired before she was confined to close quarters with him. Amore had already done so with the Chairman, now it was Kishou's turn.

"You broke your promise."
 
  • Stressed
Reactions: Kishou
Kishou propped himself on his elbow and swallowed hard. Color had just begun to return to his face. Then, just like that, with eight words, it was gone again.

"Amore, look, I-" It was too late for excuses. The Priestess was already speaking over him.

Her tone reminded him of when they first arrived at the portal stone.
 
"There is no excuse that will rob you of your guilt," Amore was, indeed, talking over him. Her tone was strong, level, sharp and biting like fire, and the candles in the room seemed to burn feverishly in tune with it.

"We did not need the money nor did we need the rapport with the Chairman. It was no life or death situation for anyone - a situation that could have waited and been taken care of by the local militia. You almost died for nothing. I still cannot see," Amore's voice steeled angrily, "but I am no longer blind."

Kishou was not the only one thinking back on those cutting words at the portal stone.


...

"Even if you could see now, you would still be blind!"

"Don't you turn this on me! You lied to me - you're trying to take me from my people, my family, my honor! What kind of friend does this?!"

...


Amore wasn't sure what stung worse. That he had lied to her again, broken his promise, or nearly died.

"I have made arrangements with the Chairman to be taken back to Cortos whenever I wish. Give me one good reason why I should not leave tomorrow."
 
  • Stressed
Reactions: Kishou
Nausea. It was overwhelming. His stomach churned as his heart dropped like a meteor falling from the stars and striking the earth.

Kishou stammered for he was quick with a sword but not words. The swordsman was on his knees now, clutching his garments in his lap.

"You are angry with me, and I am deserving of this anger. I can think of many reasons why you should leave rather than not." The swordsman conceded. The shakiness of his words overshadowed his attempt to maintain his poise. He could not stop the quivering in the back of his throat, no matter how straightly he sat up.

"But..."

He hadn't the time to feel guilty about his lie when fighting for his life against the bandits. But, he felt it now, and that guilt hurt worse than having his belly sliced open or hobbling back to Kozai on a single leg.

"But..."

Kishou sighed and his stiff posture relaxed as he let out a long, heavy sigh. "When I think about it, I struggle to label the bond we share with words like partnership, friendship, or companionship. Though I have only known you for a short while, it feels like a lifetime." The swordsman's lips thinned, and he squinted down into his lap. "We argued once, and you asked what would bother me more between you never regaining your sight or me never seeing you again. I didn't answer." He breathed a weak chuckle. "I've never been one to think much about my future until recently. Lately, the thought becomes more and more frequent, and every time I begin to imagine the future, I never envision my life absent of you." His sword hand trembled, and he tightly squeezed it with his other. His voice cracked, and his broad shoulders began to shake.

"I would never be able to forgive myself if I were to lose you because of my poor decisions."
 
The Priestess' head turned just slightly, angling in his direction as she heard him take that deep breath.

It was the same breath he'd taken at the start of any string of words that meant something. Meant everything.



"My arms, too, are strong. My legs. My chest and stomach. I am strong. Yet, why, when I am with you, do I feel so weak?"

"My strong legs feel unsteady to walk on when I am with you—my strong arms, unable to hold weight. My stomach twists into a knot. My chest flutters. I know that you have no magic. But, still, what spell have you put me under, I wonder?"

"That foggy image you have of me, will you remember that forever, even when you grow old, will you remember that I existed? That I was here with you?"

"How many things have we talked about? I have a million things to say to you, and a million more I want to show you. I want to see you, and stand by you, and talk with you about those million things. All I want in this world is to share breathtaking sights and make unforgettable memories with you. I want to begin everything from the beginning at your side."



Much like each time before when faced with such naked honesty, Amore found herself at a loss of her own words.



"I don't know what to say, but your words and wishes are beautiful. Things I would want as well."



Unlike previous times, her heart was not hammering away with the thrill of a thousand thousand maple seeds spinning fitfully through the air. In this moment the beat of her heart was strong and steady - all manner of tempered ire had melted away the capacity faint and frenzied emotion. At least, that is what it felt like.



"You would? As if they are things that, what, will not come to be? ...Maybe I should join in prayer at the church. Convert. I don't want to leave your side."

"I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry. I said many, many unnecessary things."



She realized now that they were, indeed, necessary. He'd been lying to her this whole time, and now the real truth was coming out.




"Do not apologize for speaking from your heart to me, I like it."



She felt incensed with anger still, and it burned away the words of regret at holding on to anger so strongly at the start of their journey. The tea in her cup began to simmer, the candles and lanterns in their room hissed and burned their wicks fervently.

"I do not know what to think of you anymore," Amore turned her head back, brow pressing deeply over a glare she shot out into the courtyard, "you lie to me, you anger me, you soothe me with your truths, then you lie to me again. What do I do to deserve these lies, Kishou?"

A sting of angry tears hit her eyes and she ruefully wiped them away with her free hand, "When does it stop?"
 
Whether she wanted to hear it or not, Kishou had a story to tell.

"The first time I killed a man, I must have been- goodness- only a few years older than Una. I stabbed a man through his neck with a sharpened bamboo pole. In taking a life, I saved another, and that's how I met the great General Kensui. Though, at the time, he was but the young lord of his small house. He passed on many things to make me a strong fighter, and I aspired to make him proud. Together, we watched as his clan grew and he amassed allies. Other strong fighters would gather by my side. Our five names would strike fear into our enemies." He told the story as he would any other. "Kill. Kill. Kill. We killed to the capital, and even after I took the Emperor's head for Kensui, in front of a crowd of thousands, I continued to kill for him. Rivals in court. Businessmen that wouldn't bend to his will. Traitors in his clan. Their families. Why was I still killing, even though we won the war?"

His trembling hand was still.

"I have never boasted the fastest speed, or greatest strength, or most skillful swordsmanship, or the sharpest wit, but I killed best out of us Five." Kishou fell silent, let his shoulders drop, and let his hands fall into his lap. "You said that... sometimes you wonder about me. All I am... was... is a famous man's favorite Sword."

The swordsman let out a sigh and sat back on his rear.

"I hid the truth because I was scared that you might think less of me." Kishou scoffed. How silly it sounded now that he finally said that aloud. "But, what scares me the most is a future without you by my side."
 
She'd never once moved to stop the man from telling his stories. Today would be no different. Amore sat in bitter silence, waiting for his story to make some semblance of sense to her furious storm of emotions, but in the end it made nary any sense at all. He killed people? Well of course he killed people. He was a swordsman, he'd been flogged 13 times for killing Anirians before the trip to the island. He carried two beautifully crafted swords whose soul purpose was that of rending life from this realm.

He thought he could hide that truth from her?

Did he not know what she had been trained to do since her own early childhood? What she'd spent her short life doing? It wasn't just prayer and diplomacy and spreading the word and love and power of the Sunfather - it was enacting judgement on those who would speak out against him and break his laws. It was cleansing his realm of non-believers. Death was an intimate familiar with the Solar Choir Priestess, but it was not something she spoke of often. Not because she wished to hide that aspect of her life, but simply because it was the least important aspect.

"Here I thought you were simply saving the the Fifth Sword of Kensui's story for a rainy day..." a statement that should have been made with a lighthearted tone, but had presently been given with a voice flat and devoid of humor.

Silence reigned for several long, agonizing minutes.

"I will stay. Lie to me again and I promise I will be gone by the next sunrise."
 
Kishou scratched at the back of his hand during that long silence. More than a few times, he almost broke it.

"Just don't ask me any questions about embarrassing memories, and I should be fine," he said with a nervous chuckle. When Amore remained silent, he cleared his throat and quickly added on, "I-I won't. Now, ahem, with all of that being said... I'm not... Quite... Welcomed in the capital."
 
CLINK.

The porcelain tea cup in Amore's hand shattered, spilling steaming hot tea across her hand and lap. She swore in Cortosi - not because it hurt or burned (it didn't) but because she hated to waste good tea. The Priestess carefully got to her feet, sending the pieces of the cup clattering to the floorboards and pooled tea dribbling down the front of her robes. With luck she was not wearing a fine kimono, but a casual yukata as she had spent her time glued to Kishou's side for the last several days while he recovered in his feverish sleep.

"Is that so?" she snapped heatedly, angry at this sudden revelation but also at the misfortune of the one enjoyment she had for the moment, "Please, elaborate."
 
Kishou flinched and babbled "Are you okay?!" Did she... did she just crush the cup? Not that they were incredibly durable things. It was her anger that startled him. The last time he recalled seeing any form of violence out of her was when she drew his own sword against him.

He flinched again as she snapped at him and took a deep breath. "We had a leader. His name was Eizen. Like me, he was born a peasant. The other four grew bored in the capital. They didn't have to murder for Kensui like I did. Truthfully, they weren't trusted like I was. But, Eizen was the best of us. We respected him for his bravery and his wits." She obviously wouldn't see Kishou shake his head. "Wealth and status corrupted him. He plotted with Loyalists to kill Kensui and the newly seated Emperor, who they viewed as a puppet. Given what I was doing, I uncovered the plot and was forced to cut Eizen down. Without a chance to explain myself, I was branded a traitor and comrade killer and fled the city."

Kishou stood up and approached Amore. "But, are you okay? The tea didn't burn you, did it? Did you cut your hand?"
 
The sting of her hand was nothing compared to the sting of her temper. Amore wanted to shout at Kishou for these words he spoke, but he was only doing as she asked. He was being truthful. To fault him for that now would only make her the villain. The Priestess took a deep breath, willing the fire of her anger to calm. She couldn't see that the glow of the room was dimming as the candles burned down into the last of their wicks.

"I'm fine," Amore said after a moment, curling her fingers in on her cut palm, "When were you planning to reveal this news? Before our journey to the capital or during? Never?"
 
"Amore, you're bleeding" He pleaded, "I'll tell you whatever you want to know, so can we please just stop the bleeding first?"

Kishou suspected she knew he would have kept the truth a secret if he weren't pressured into revealing it. Did she just want to hear him admit it?

Atop a nearby table was a tray and on it old ointments and dressings used for Kishou's now-healed wounds. He stood up, quietly groaning as he did so.

"Come here, sit, give me your hand. Please."
 
She didn't want him to tend to her hand, she wanted him to speak. For too long had he spoken countless beautiful words to her except the ones that really mattered. Like the fact that he was considered a wanted criminal by some of the greatest warriors of his generation. Amore coiled her hand tighter, pressing the blood out the side of her fist, and didn't move.

The desire to shout at him had faded, but her anger had yet to fully abate.

"You weren't going to tell me, were you?" her level tone had deflated to something of disappointment, exasperation, "Were you just hoping they'd forgotten? What was your plan when they hadn't? When they seized you and took you away? You did not even think it important enough to make a plan?"

"Are we not making this journey together?"
 
The priestess would miss his gaze dropping shamefully to the floor. For all his size, he felt incredibly small in front of Amore. How could he answer? Of course, he hadn't planned. He hadn't planned for hardly any of the journey. From the start, when he'd taken her against her will, everything had been done impulsively.

Enter Saiji with the Chairman. Hope for the best.

Kishou frowned. "We are," he insisted. The swordsman's weak mind and body could hardly withstand her ire, and he carefully sat back down. He rubbed his face and sighed into his palm. "I don't know! I don't know."

Guilt ate away at him like feral wolves would a baby deer. Imagining that they did arrive in the capital and he was taken away from Amore, her being completely unaware of what was happening, simply made him nauseous.

"I don't know! I'm sorry!" The swordsman shouted and fought back the sting of tears "I never thought it'd come to this. That we would make it this far. I'm... I'm sorry."
 
There it was. Finally. Real truth. The real emotion. The uncertainty and regret he'd been keeping to himself - this was the raw cut she'd been looking for beneath all the others that had been tended to on the surface. Her glare softened, shifting to something of lament. Desperation for guidance from the Brightfather on how to handle this situation. The Church would have imposed further patience. Always patience.

But patience with the man had gotten them here, into this state.

"Make it this far?" Amore asked in disbelief, moving to close the gap between them with careful steps. She knew the layout of the room by heart now, knew the number of steps and what direction to go to get to where she needed to be. Knew where Kishou's body had laid on his bedroll for the last several nights. He wasn't there anymore, now she had to find him.

"You thought Toji would heal me? Or perhaps that we would be dead?"

She paused where she was, standing just off the side of his bedroll, and listened for his heavy breathing, then began to move again.

"That one of us would eventually relent? That I would run off?"

He was just before her, low to the ground, and she reached out with her un-injured hand to brush her fingers through the air, finding the crown of his head. She dropped to her knees at his front, allowing the back of her hand to smooth down alongside his face, to his chest where she pressed her palm against it.

"Neither of us can make this journey on their own," the Priestess shook her head, "you have to let me in, Kishou. I need you to let me in. We're already here, but we cannot go any farther if we cannot trust one another."
 
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Of course, he thought Toji would heal her. He'd believed with absolute certainty that Toji would have helped her, just as he had with others before. But, after the old monk's passing, he didn't know what to do.

When Kishou opened his eyes, he saw Amore standing before him. The swordsman looked away, then as she reached out to him, gazed back up. The priestess' touch was gentle, but her hand rested heavily on his chest. She would not see him blink back tears, nor would she see his quivering lips.

They had been an inseparable pair for the entire journey, even before they'd came to Kishou's homeland. He already knew that only together would they be able to see it through.

"I do trust you. I do." Kishou pressed his large, calloused hand on hers. "All I've been shown is how to use a sword. The quickest way to take a life."

A young boy left his village several years ago and had only learned how to close his heart off to others. Otherwise, how could he live with the guilt of taking countless lives?

"It's scary, Amore." He let slip something close to a whimper. "How? How do I let you in?"
 
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Amore's brow knit upward at his admissions, relief and concern and compassion for her dear friend showing through the lines of her expression. They were getting somewhere now, breaking down barriers and finding their way through the thicket of the unknown between them. He'd never been taught how to trust and open up to someone, and Amore had never really been taught how to form such strong, personable bonds with anyone.

It shouldn't be this hard, should it? She shouldn't be so angry at him so easily? Was this how it was supposed to go?

"You're scared?" a breathy, incredulous laugh, "I can't see! I'm terrified most of the time and lost the rest of it. You have to tell me these things you're scared of, or ashamed of. The things you wouldn't tell other people. Let me help you do these things that frighten you. I promise I will do everything in my power to keep you safe just as you have for me."
 
So simple. So difficult. Kishou was quiet for a while, sniffed, and wiped his eyes with the heel of his palm.

"You would have done that all along, wouldn't you?" He breathed a quiet, tired chuckle and squeezed her hand. "Sorry. I will try. I will do my best, and I will not tell any more lies or hide any more truths. So just... Do not leave. Please."
 
"Of course," Amore nodded, "of course I would have. I've been trying as best I can but I can't help you when I don't know what you need."

There had been so few things she could do on their journey thus far. Being frugal and not complaining about a lack of shelter or food had been the bare essentials. Offering to help raise money had been another. Giving him comfort when he seemed stressed. Listening to his stories.

If only she had known what he had been tasked to do to earn his keep at the Orchid and how he had grown to hate it - she would have insisted on another job. She could have done so much more.

But Amore did not like to live in what ifs or could haves. She had to keep her mind set on the path forward.

"Okay," she said gently after a moment, smiling warmly with her sightless silver eyes lingering off toward his shoulder, "I'll stay."
 
"Thank you," a deep, relieved sigh. Then, he suddenly stood up with her hand in his.

"Now, can we please get that bleeding to stop?"

Kishou urged her along to the table and, after she sat, began to wash the blood away. Another guilt was added to this list as he looked at the cut across her palm.

"What should I tell the Chairman? Didn't he say he was close friends with Kensui?" The swordsman frowned. It wouldn't bode well for him, unwittingly bringing a criminal to court. Or, well, perhaps it would?
 
Amore had actually forgotten all about her cut hand, sighed and relented to letting Kishou tend to the wound. It was a clean cut, not deep, and didn't take long to care for.

"He did," she said with a nod, "I think he should know who you are. The Chairman is an intelligent man," even if he did lie about sending Kishou away on a suicidal errand, "and he wishes to use me to strengthen his trade under the Emperor and build his clout. He will not want to upset me by turning you over. He may have a solution to this, or at least an idea."
 
"I don't remember anyone like him from before," The swordsman mused aloud. He wouldn't say it, but it was probably best for the Chairman that Kishou didn't know him. Maybe Kishou had a hand in getting the Chairman to where he was now. He frowned at the thought.

After a pause, Kishou sighed. In the past hour or so, he'd done that a lot. "I should at least tell him, whether he knows or not. If he has a plan, then he will tell us. If not, I'm sure the two of you could think up something smart." A weary smile. "The Emperor, huh. He was there, you know, at the execution. Saw as I cut his father's head off as thousands cheered over it. Tiny, then. Younger than Una at the time. I don't think he'd truly realized what had happened. Whenever we would visit the palace from then on, he would grab at my sleeve and want to play. I never did, but Maki and Benimaru would. They were good with kids."

Benimaru, the largest and strongest out of them. Even simpler than Kishou, but he had a large heart and was deeply caring of others.
 
Amore nodded in agreement, letting the man talk and tend to her hand and listening to his story. For as many stories as he'd told her about these lands, she felt she still knew very little about him.

"How ... old are you, Kishou?" she asked, picking at a curiosity that Toji himself had grown in her. Toji had referred to her as being too young to be wandering with him, but given what she remembered of his appearance she didn't believe him to be all that much older. But now that she knew more she was questioning just how well she remembered him at all. Perhaps her mind had simply settled on recalling a young and handsome foreigner when he had actually been aged.
 
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