Private Tales Forastero

[Kishou]

In his last moments of coherence, Kishou impassively watched as Amore thought. Never one to be absent-minded, she was always thinking about something. It didn't take long into their travels for him to notice that. Also, in their travels, overlooking her trademark composure was nigh impossible, and now, though however hard she tried to maintain it, he could see the cracks in her stoic demeanor.

It would seem that spending a year with his eyes on only the Priestess made that possible. If his eyes closed, would she be there the next time they opened?

____
​

She had been, and not long after setting off the morning following their arrival, they came upon a trail through the tall grasses. They followed it until a single structure came into view, a small road-side shack that doubled as a food stand. It had been the first time Amore tasted rice. He'd half-expected her to cause a scene, but the shack's owner had given them directions to the nearest city, and they parted after buying riceballs for the road, they peacefully set off.

Over the next several days, Kishou tried to break down the wall that had grown between them as a result of his actions. He would describe interesting sights and scenery as they passed, or idly chat with Amore, who didn't humor his attempts at conversation. Silence during the day, silence at night. He'd expected as much.

After suffering the summer heat for several days, it was a relief to see the sprawling cityscape appear in the distance.

"Oh," he softly exclaimed, "we're close."

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

There was an evening of rain that they had spent beneath the boughs of an ancient tree. Amore couldn't see the years it had lived, but she could feel it in the soil under her hands as she rested among the roots, could smell it in the bark, hear it in the creak of the branches. For a short while it felt almost as if she could see through the stark tactile nature of the ancient soul giving them shelter.

She imagined its canopy risen high enough to cradle the moon, housing countless generations of of spirits among the leaves. When the rain calmed to a gentle patter the sound of the horizon met her ears on a breeze. Amore thought she could hear the swell of waves along a shoreline between the gentle sighs of Kishou's restive breathing.

Morning dew woke her from a dreamless sleep and the sensation of mental sight melted under the rays of warming sun. It baked the lands in a heady oven of humidity. Reluctance marked her movements to leave the shade of the tree, but very little insistence from Kishou was needed. The exhaustion was mutual and fighting it helped nothing.

How many hours had passed before the man's voice broke the silence was a mystery, but the Priestess lifted her head in response. Of the senses that had grown stronger since the loss of her sight, smell was now the strongest. A new aroma faintly mingled with that of the countryside. The scents of a settlement drifted to her, a cause for a jolt of emotion, something off anxious relief.

"Close to where?"

 

[Kishou]

"Saijo," Kishou answered the Priestess and lightly tugged the reins. He was hungry, exhausted, his feet and legs sore to the bone from days of walking. "I think. Bigger than I remember."

Of the inland cities, Saijo was one of the largest. A sizable river cut through the middle of the town, or perhaps it was more accurate to say that Saijo was built around the river.

"I want to eat fish," he whined to the air and continued forward.

It came as no surprise to the swordsman that all eyes were on the pair as they wandered into town. Men like Kishou, ronin, likely came and went in droves. Women like Amore, with shimmering crimson hair and graceful demeanor, were not so common.

"I take it you won't have an issue with stopping for the day?"

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

Neither of them had eaten much in the last several days. The hunger pangs were a very real thing and Amore could empathize with the man's verbal wanting, but she wouldn't echo it. At this point any real food would be preferred over the dwindling supply of travel rations; stale flakes of bread, meat jerky, camel butter, dried fruit. The Priestess took a deep breath and prayed for continued patience.

It was rumored that the Priests of the Solar Choir could live off the Sunfather's light alone and she was not want to banish such a wondrous notion from the world. If it were at all true, the unwavering heat of their travels would have seen her fat and satiated.

She closed her eyes, tired of moving them to give the perception of sight, and listened instead. She could hear people now, the echos of sounds reached her more strongly as they bounced off buildings. The scents were looming in with an intensity that set her stomach twisting.

"No," Amore replied gently. For the sake of the horse - certainly it needed a day of reprieve and shade, least of all to speak of him or herself. Besides, they had no heading. It had become clear that Kishou hadn't thought this whole ordeal through.

"Will they accept our coin here?" Thankfully all the guards carried coin in the saddlebags. They had enough to see them through the various checkpoints on the road from Portal Stone to Portal Stone, and maybe a small spending allowance for the Guards while they were off-duty, but not much more.

 

[Kishou]

"No. Well, I don't know. Maybe I can offer to work in exchange for lodging and food?" Kishou frowned. It would be easy if they did accept foreign coins, but he couldn't rely on that.

Maybe he could fish at the river? When was the last time he fished?

Kishou, the Fisherman.

He lightly scoffed and gave the reins another gentle tug.

"Looks like an inn up ahead."

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

Lines formed between Amore's brows, her lips thinning in a concerning line of thought.

"Perhaps there is a smith that would exchange the coins for their material value?" She'd never visited any city that did not accent precious metals as payment. How odd that these people wouldn't.

Were she without her handicap and with her strength and magic there were a great deal of things she might've done for pay. Though it was generally frowned upon to use one's powers for gain, healing those in need had come in useful for this very situation before. But she was not with these things or abilities anymore and it caused her faint frowning line to deepen as she realized her own worth without her magic in this foreign land.

What else could she offer these people that would require none of those things?

"Is there an appreciation for foreign music in these lands?" she did not need her sight or much strength to sing or play an instrument.

 

[Kishou]

This far inland, Kishou didn't suspect that any craftsman, trader, or smith would find much value in foreign goods. More likely on the coast, where contact and trade with foreign nations and people were more common. Still, it was worth a try.

"Perhaps," he echoed.

They'd arrived outside the inn, and Kishou began to hitch the horse on a post outside.

"It would certainly arouse curiosity," he lightly tugged on the knot and nodded approvingly. Oddly, he recalled the night in Elbion where Mithri hummed pleasant tunes as she braided the Priestess' hair. He wondered what a song sung by Amore would sound like.

The swordsman gently tapped her elbow, then offered his hand to help her down.

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

His perhaps was not a reassuring one, but Amore did not press the issue. Kishou knew these lands, she did not. She would have to put a great deal of faith in him for the time being, which - strangely enough - the Priestess was not accustomed to doing.

Relying on others. Needing their help. Being incapable of accomplishing even small tasks.

Brows knit at the deluge of negative emotion following those thoughts, the tap to her elbow luckily pulled her from dwelling. She dropped the handful of mane in her right hand and carefully swung her far leg over the front of the saddle. Delicate hands hovered there until Kishou took them up in his own and she slid down into his arms before finding the ground with her feet. The faint skip of her heart at the sense of his strength seemed a constant every time they went through this routine, but Amore had yet to figure if it was of carefully guarded jealousy or something else entirely.

A weary breath parted her lips as she pushed through the fatigue and saddle-soreness, "I take it there are not many fair-skinned, red-haired people to be found in these lands?" The question was meant to distract her from the overwhelming feeling of exhaustion that threatened to topple her to the ground. She kept his hand as he lead the way to the entrance and inside.

 

[Kishou]

"If by 'many' you mean 'none at all', then no. There are not many."

As always, the vagabond led the Priestess slowly. Carefully. Past sliding screen doors and into the spacious entrance hall, where almost immediately Kishou took in the nostalgic smell of straw and woodchips.

"Good evening," a woman's voice greeted the pair from inside. The woman, a decade or two older than Kishou, sat on her knees behind a table. Women like her, those that ran inns, have witnessed all manner of things pass through their doors. When he saw the expression on her face from laying eyes upon Amore, it was evident that of all the things she may have seen in her life, the fair-skinned, red-haired Priestess was a first.

"Good evening," the swordsman politely responded, "Is there an opening? We have coin."

She skeptically eyed them before rolling a scroll out- a checkbook of sorts. "Yes. What is the duration of your stay?"

"A day," he glanced at Amore, "possibly two."

The woman nodded and, using a brush, wrote on the scroll. "Twenty dō each day."

Kishou politely lowered his head, and the woman rose and beckoned them. With Amore still latched onto his arm, he followed the woman through the entrance hall and to a room. It was eerily quiet within the inn, and quite unlike anything seen in Cortos, or Elbion, or Alliria, there was no communal eating area. No bar.

When they arrived, the woman knelt by the door, slid it open, and bowed to the pair as they entered. "Tea will be brought momentarily, and dinner later tonight. Please enjoy your stay." She closed the screen door behind them.

Kishou let out a relieved sigh. They avoided the inconvenience of payment, at least for now. Perhaps they would rest enough to leave without worrying at all? Dishonest, yes, but add it to the growing list of dishonest acts.

The room was as barren as it was spacious. A pair of cushions were placed under a small wooden table in the middle of the room. Parallel to the sliding door that led to the hall was a pair of doors that opening to the inn's courtyard, a small but beautiful patch of nature amidst the building. He left it closed, and guided Amore to one of the cushions, then sat across from her.

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

What differences she couldn't see she could certainly feel. At least, some of them anyway. The scents that drifted through the air, most apparently, were of an airy nature she could only compare to elven dwellings. But even the elvish settlements had their sounds and songs - this was curiously quiet.

Not an unnerving quiet, but a soothing one. Meditative, almost, in its constant ripple of being.

Amore settled onto the cushion a bit more gracelessly than intended, but it felt good to sit on something other than that godforsaken saddle.

"What did she say," her voice quietly broke the din of silence, "about the payment?" Her understanding of his language was still basic and quite incapable of keeping up with the speed at which they spoke. It did not seem there was a problem, but it almost seemed too easy. Something felt amiss.

 

[Kishou]

"Twenty dō per night," he answered her, "it would be a small handful of coppers in Elbion or Alliria. That was all she said."

Kishou, disregarding any etiquette, spread his legs out across the floor and rubbed his calves. The cushions were soft, and the flooring comprised of comfortable woven mats that were firm but with a subtle give.

"How do you feel?"

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

She was about to ask what twenty do equated to but Kishou was already filling in the information. Smart man. For his humble beginnings he was not someone to be trifled with and, Amore reckoned, his mind was as sharp as the blades he carried at his waist. Whether or not this worked in her favor, however, was yet to be seen.

The Priestess gave a short nod in response, finding herself at odds with her own training and upbringing - which seemed to be a repeating theme ever since that damn island incident. It was all sort of starting to flood in again, as it had a tendency to do in the quiet moments when they rested. Where she had nothing to distract her from her helpless nature.

A withered sigh escaped her parted lips, posture falling just slightly, "I am ... tired."

Hated admitting it. Felt like whining. Burned like blasphemy on her tongue. She should have felt better, more herself by now, had she continued taking her doses of gryphon's blood. But without proper meals she didn't want to risk growing sick and becoming even more of a burden.

 

[Kishou]

"You look tired," Kishou beamed, "me, too."

One of the workers, a younger woman, called out from the other side of the screen door. The tea had arrived, and when Kishou went to retrieve it, the younger woman wore a mystified expression on her face upon seeing Amore.

"Oh," he spoke to her, breaking her from the trance, "we would like sake with our meal tonight, if possible."

The young woman bowed, "Of course."

The green tea had a light, refreshing vegetal flavor. With each aromatic sip, nostalgia spread over every tastebud in the swordsman's mouth and warmed him to the bones.

Soon after they had their fill of the tea, the same young woman returned with two small trays with small plates and bowls placed about them. Steaming white rice sat at the center, next to it a bowl of rich, cloudy broth. Sliced scallions floated at the broth's surface. A cut of grilled fish was centered above the rice and broth, and in the smaller plates were sides of pickled vegetables and seasonal ingredients.

Most importantly, however, was the single, pure white ceramic bottle.

"Will you share a drink with me?"

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

The tea tasted like the variety she had received from the tea master of Kishou's lands. She could detect the subtle differences in preparation, too. Where she had enjoyed a cup with the vagabond at the camp, plainly boiling it in a pot over fire, here it had gone through what she surmised to be quite the ritual process before reaching their table. It was a joy to drink and it warmed her with the fond memories it brought.

Soon after, the aroma of their meal filled the small room. Amore remained still as the trays were placed, trying to listen to the gentle sounds of plates as they shifted about. Her fingertips carefully glided forward from her cushion to find the edge of the table and then the plates. Memorizing their location wasn't difficult, but knowing what each plate held was another challenge.

With luck, his people were not the only ones to utilize chopsticks as utensils. Amore was practiced with them, though using them blindly was a difficulty of another level. The first of the small plates she took up with her other hand, lifting it to just under her nose where she could take in the smell.

Everything smelled foreign but heavenly. She didn't know where to begin.

Amore set the plate down, turning her attention back to Kishou as he spoke.

"I...yes, I suppose." Wine with dinner was the normal in Cortos. Where she came from was, arguably, also where the best wine was made. She had no idea what sake was but it felt wrong to decline.

Kishou helped to fill her plate and then offered her a small porcelain cup of drink. Amore sputtered after the first sip, coughed into the back of her hand, and blinked at a sudden sting of water in her eyes.

Couldn't help the Cortosi slip of the tongue at the shock of burn, "...that is ... hm, very strong."

"But good."

Good enough to continue to quietly accept another when offered. By the end of their meal it had hit her like a stampeding charger on the loose. Though she couldn't see it, the room felt as though it were pitching and yawing like they were back on that boat. She felt warm and for certain her cheeks were nearly as red as her hair.

"I think... I need some fresh air." Yes, that should help, now if only she could find her feet.

 

[Kishou]

"That it is," he softly breathed a chuckle at her momentary lapse of composure.

Kishou had been more than happy to refill her cup, again and again. Inebriated Priestess aside, the meal overwhelmed him and solidified that he was, indeed, home. He sat back, belly full when his rosy-cheeked companion spoke up. A tingly warmth had spread throughout his body, and a walk with her on his arm through the cool evening air appealed to him.

"Shall we step out, then?" He stood, rounded the table, and bent over to touch the back of her shoulder. "Come on," he coaxed her.

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

"Please," even if she was still unhappy with her current predicament she could still be polite. The Priests hadn't raised a heathen, after all. She shifted at the touch to her shoulder and tucked her feet to the side to push herself up. Halfway to standing Amore realized she couldn't find her balance and nearly toppled over.

"Ohf- sunspots..." she felt Kishou catch her by the arm and clung to the anchor he provided until she could get herself righted fully, quietly excusing the lack of grace for her exhaustion.

But not for being three sheets to the wind. No, no.

The cool night air that flooded in as he pulled the door aside hit her like a cold wave from the ocean. Amore blinked into the relief and followed him out on his arm. As they came to a stand she thought she could feel the beams of moon and starlight on her skin, but the reality was simply the healthy glow of a woman drunk on sake.

"What ..." fingers adjusted their grip on his arm slightly as she blinked her silvered eyes towards the ground, "...what does it look like?"

 

[Kishou]

Strong as the desire to was, Kishou didn't remark on the Priestess' state, though a tiny, smug grin persisted.

"There we are," he cooed and guided her across the room and out between the twin sliding doors to the courtyard with exceptional care.

Several other twin doors identical to the ones they had passed through surrounded the rectangular courtyard. He saw light through some, though others were dark. Only they occupied the raised walkway.

"It is a simple courtyard, longer than it is wide, and only a fraction of the size of your garden in the Church. Picture... small, wiry trees with skinny trunks that bend and twist. So skinny, in fact, that if you put several of them together, you could still wrap your arms around them. The crowns broaden into beautiful, vibrant tufts of green leaves. The branches of each tree layer almost like the dogwood that grows in Cortosi forests."

He cast a sideways glance at Amore.

"Rocks, like small boulders, are carefully placed around the courtyard. At the center of it all is a beautiful and proud cherry blossom or sakura tree. A mass of beautiful pink flowers bloom on the long branches. Do you remember the way the sky would turn pink during sunsets? And the way that white clouds would take on that color? That is how this looks- like a large pink cloud floating above a pasture."

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

Do you remember...

Those three words sunk heavily into her chest and weighed upon her heart.

Do you remember when you could see? Back before you sacrificed yourself for men you hardly knew, many of which blasphemous to the church that raised you. Half of them hadn't even attended your evening prayer service and half that had were only there because they were scared of being sent out on patrol.

Amore's fingers tightened their grip on his arm as these thoughts slurred through her mind. For that moment she'd forgotten all about her anger with the man presently describing the courtyard to her and, instead, took solace in his voice and presence. Her head leaned against his shoulder, pounding with the pressure of built-up regret and silent, secret longings to shed her shackles to the faith.

"It sounds beautiful," Amore murmured, "you have a way with words."

 

[Kishou]

"Flatterer," he let out a short, muffled chuckle, "they do not do the natural beauty of these lands justice. I wish-" that you could see it? In the lingering silence, a gentle breeze rolled over the courtyard. The cherry blossom's branches rustled, and loose petals drifted with the wind before falling to the grass.

"There is so much more I would like to show you," he looked up at the cloudless night sky, "there are no clouds tonight. You can clearly see the moons and stars."

Kishou cupped a hand over hers that clung to his arm and silently enjoyed the scene before them.

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

I wish...

If only a wish could fix everything.

Amore tipped her head back, her own pale eyes a dual reflection of the twin moons in the sky. "I can still see them, in my mind."

Something about the night sky had always transfixed the Priestess. Ever so much more than the warm glow of day. The stars had always felt familiar and she had their patterns memorized before she really even knew much about this life of hers. It was in that moment that she realized how much she missed them in a completely non-sensical way. The way you missed a friend or a loved one, even when you knew they were still there.

Would she never get to look upon them again?

Amore's heart ached for reprieve from these lessons.

 

[Kishou]

The swordsman quietly watched Amore stare up and, like their first meeting by the campfire, lost himself in the Priestess. Glancing back up, the glistening profusion of stars reminded him of her eyes that night long ago, her gaze nothing short of seraphic.

Yet now, with magic and vision lost, her vulnerabilities lain bare to him, she seemed much more human. Many times over the last several days, despite her profuse sweating and unkempt appearance, he had found her to be breathtakingly beautiful. Perhaps even more so than when the air around her hummed with power.

“They remind me of your eyes. The stars.” His hand that rested over hers fell back to his side. “They shone in the same way.”

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

A wave of grief washed over Amore at his words. The reminder of her eyes from before - blue, like the sea, like the sky at twilight aglimmer with latent stars.

It sank heavily into her chest and slowly sifted down through her lungs, making her breath difficult to hold. Then, like sand through fingers, down through her middle where her stomach began to twist in knots. Then, finally, into her legs where her knees buckled beneath the ever-mounting weight of sadness.

Or was it the sake?

The woman slipped down from where her head rest on his shoulder, piling into a crumpled heap of careworn silk and fraying red tresses. The sting of heat filled her eyes and then began to pour out. At first it was silent, but the quiet murmurs she tried to hold back eventually spilled from her lips. She was horribly distraught, embarassed, and desperately longing for home and the comforts of her family within the Church. Purpose seemed no longer attainable. Helplessness felt all encompassing. Amore hid her face in her hands but the tears spilled out from behind them too.

 

[Kishou]

He watched her weep once, weeks ago, from the stress and hopelessness felt at wit's end. As he stood there, mouth slightly hanging open to offer comforting words but none coming, Kishou wondered what exactly could have made her weep again. Well, several things, he reckoned. And he frowned.

The sounds of a drunk, sobbing woman at that time of the night would have certainly disturbed guests in the nearest rooms, but he didn't care. The swordsman knelt down and quietly placed a hand on Amore's back; his heart thundered in his chest, in his throat, and an indescribable weight sank in his gut.

No, it was not an indescribable weight - just guilt.

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

"I'm never going to see again," Amore whimpered to herself. To her credit, her weeping was not of the obnoxious type - but quiet. Having never been a woman who raised her voice for anything but the most heathenous of blasphemers, it was an effort even to let these emotions show.

Perhaps a little less of an effort now the sake had loosened the cap.

"I used to be able to feel the magic of the lands and the moonlight," her hands slipped from her face, revealing the streaming tears to the whole of the courtyard to clutch at her chest, "I can't feel anything. I feel nothing."

 

[Kishou]

“Maybe not,” he said, his gentle voice even more so now, “but maybe you will. At the very least, if you are to grow old without sight, would it not be better to grow old and blind knowing you did your best?” Without any regrets?

Hand still on her back, Kishou raised his other to her face, the sleeve of his garment pinched between his fingers. He dabbed her wet cheeks with his sleeve.

“That’s not true. You certainly felt the heat of summer on horseback. I have never seen a young woman sweat so much.” Of course, she wouldn’t see the small, smug smile of his. He wondered, could she even draw the image of his face in her mind? His expressions? He wiped her cheeks again. “I believe if there is a way to heal you, it can be found in these lands. I believe it with all of my heart.”