I waited for the right day. One of those days where the weather was fine, mostly cloudy but not too cloudy, with a light drizzle the night before. It was on one of these days that my mother thought I would go into the woods and spend time with Louis, Stéphane, and Pierre, days when she wouldn't notice my absence. It was on one of these days that I decided to go into town nice and early before the main street became crowded, before stalls were set up for the day. For some reason, I felt like a criminal, like I was doing something I shouldn't. But I was just visiting a bookstore.
It was old and smelled of moss. The dust in the air was quite literally visible. As you moved through the space, the faint air you made from moving would kick up even more dust. I sneezed. "AHH", an old voice yelled from deeper in the store. An old man walked through a doorway behind the counter. The front of the store normally had a closed door, so a loud sound like that no doubt surprised him. He mustn't get many customers, considering the door itself didn't have a bell on it like other stores did. The old man had long, white and grey hair and a sagging face, almost like he had stopped taking care of his appearance and let his hair grow out carelessly. His hairline was far back, revealing a large forehead. He stumbled out and leaned over the counter.
"Hmm? Oh, ah." He made various uncomfortable sounds as he smacked his lips together over and over. As if his mouth were as dry as ash, or he had forgotten how to speak. "Uuuuuuuuhhhh..." He stared at me blankly. It was so uncomfortable that I was inclined to either try to say something or just turn around and walk out. "You're Takeshi's kid, right?". I was floored, suddenly and utterly, he spoke Imperial. It took me a moment to compose myself.
"Oh, ah no, I'm Sera's child"
"Yeah. Sara, your mum. Takeshi is your dad, right?"
My whole body froze. Takeshi? Takeshi. I don't know that name. Is that my father's name? My mother only ever referred to him as 'your father' and never once by name. I would remember if she had, right? Takeshi? Was that actually his name? How did this old man know?
"How do you know...Takeshi?"
"Oh, yeah, I ah. He and I go way back. I taught him Imperial, but he always struggled with the language. Aside from Sera, I was basically the only person in the village he could have a conversation with. I do regret telling him to move here sometimes." His monologue drifted into an incoherent mumble and then regressed further into more lip-smacking.
"Um, I came here today to ask if you have a world map I could see."
"Hmm? World map? Of course, I do. It's uuuhhh...I normally have it right here, but it's not here. Where did I put that thing? Maybe I took it to the back for some..." Once again, his words trailed into incoherent mumbling. I felt he had stopped talking to me and started to talk to himself. If so, then I didn't mind too much, that was until he stumbled back into the rear of the store once again.
I stood there for about seven minutes waiting, trusting that he had gone to fetch the map. Suddenly, I heard a thudding, the sound of books tumbling. Just as I was about to call out if he was okay, the old man emerged once again, clutching a scroll in his frail, wrinkly hand.
"Here we go, world map. It's a late second era rendition, though, so I hope that's alright. If it means anything, it comes from Balim, but sadly, it's not a Rahǩãn."
I took the map from his shaky hands and nodded like I understood what he said. I unrolled it in my hands and held it up, and was sorely disappointed. I saw the main continent that took up the top half of the map and narrowed as it reached the bottom, relegating itself to the right. To the left of the narrower landmass were the islands we were at war with across the narrow sea. That was it, that's all there was. I rolled the map again and returned it.
The old man looked at me for a moment, a confused expression hidden under his sagging face. He took the map back from me.
"All that for just a quick glance?"
I had lost sight of my goal. What was it I wanted? The language seemed interesting, but that was just because of how different it was. The map was a means to an end...but what was the end? I wanted to know something more, anything about him...wait.
"Say, did you say you knew my father quite well, right?"
The old man's eyes lit up as if he had regained some lost youth. "Ah, yes, yes, Takeshi. Good man, he is, I think he was a Nebu descendant if I remember right. I first met him in Green Pass, and we travelled together for a time since we both wanted to head to the imperial city, but we travelled a lot together before meeting Sara, you know. How is he doing these days anyhow?"
My excitement from hearing about him was shattered in an instant with that crushing reminder. Of course, he's probably dead, so why was I trying to understand him? I didn't quite understand it. Why was I spending so much time trying to learn something about a dead man? I thought about him from time to time, but why? Mother never talked about him, at least not directly. Was I just bored, and this was something to do? I don't quite understand.
"He's dead", I muttered. The life that was in the old man's eyes vanished with a simple "oh" as I left the store to head home.
On the way home, I was thinking about the encounter. I didn't even ask the name of that old guy. A part of me wanted to maybe make friends with him since we both spoke Imperial, but I think that bond wasn't real. I speak Viltin just fine, but I don't have a bond with any other villagers here. But he knew my father, could I talk about that? But what's the point about talking about someone only one of us knows or ever will know? I don't understand him, I don't think I ever will...because...how the hell could he just leave like that? Before in knew it, while walking past the graveyard on the way home, I had started to cry. It frustrated me, and I got mad. The idea festered in my mind for weeks.
"Why did Dad leave?
My mother dropped the flax basket of clothing out of shock, and she just looked at me with a blank expression. Like she expected me to already know the answer. I could think of things, but I don't know if any of them are correct. Did he hate it here? Did he not love mother? "Did he run when mother got pregnant?" Oh, crap, I said that last one out loud. Suddenly, a flurry of movement, I froze and shut my eyes tight, expecting something. I didn't expect to feel warm, but a hug. Mother had dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around me. I could hear a faint sobbing she was clearly trying to hold in.
"You are the best thing he ever gave me, and I know, he would have loved you so, so much.".
After she calmed down, she explained the story to me. She had never done so before, I suppose it's sometimes easy to forget the person you spend all your time with doesn't know everything that happened before they were around. She briefly told me about my father, about how the two met, about how they decided to travel together, about how they settled here. It's a quick, short and lacked detail, but to me, it was enough. Even I could tell, talking about it pained her.
That night, she retreated into her room with a bottle of wine like she would do some nights. I didn't understand that, why drink something that makes you sad?
It was about twenty years ago in the Imperial City when I met Takeshi. That place was a forest of brick and mortar that stretched forever, the kind of place with too many people and too many problems. I was a resident of the outer west district of the city and worked in a tavern serving miners. That region of the city was rife with them due to its proximity to the gold mountain. I worked as a barmaid at one of the many taverns. My job consists of asking what from the menu people wanted to order and relaying that to the kitchen, also to pour and serve drinks to tables. Most people didn't know how to read, so the menu had words and hand-drawn pictures of the food. Most of the time, someone knew what they wanted or would point at a picture. I would simply write down the number next to the menu item since I could barely read as well.
The bar itself was located along a side road of the main western path amid one of the many pleasure districts in the city. As such, the behaviour of the patrons was less than ideal. I lost count of how many men groped or lightly slapped my ass. I lost count of how many madams tried to tempt me with a vast sum of crowns to work in their brothels. After all, I was young, pretty and most importantly to them, unspoiled.
It was one night when she was walking home through one of the circular side roads, I was accosted by two men who frequented the tavern, two men who constantly made unwanted physical advances towards me, two men who had probably just had a bit too much to drink and didnt have enough crowns to afford a brothel for the night.
"Oi, you, what's your deal HUH? We're good-natured, hard-working fellas here, you know."
"It just breaks our hearts when an attractive young lady like yourself rejects such upstanding citizens"
The two drunkards stumbled towards me with slurred words. My legs we shaking with fear as I took a few steps back. I wanted to turn and run, to scream out for help, to do anything but I couldn't, I froze. My mind raced with too many thoughts, like I was being dragged through a river of ideas and unable to grab a branch to stop the current from carrying me away. I then had the strangest memory, a girl I knew named Lila. She was pretty, and only a year older than I at sixteen. I remembered the one time I saw her without makeup, she was gorgeous. I asked her why she used makeup to make herself look ugly. She told me it was so that she would be an undesirable target for certain men. Just then, in that moment, I thought, maybe I should have done that as well.
The two men lunged at her.
They tackled her to the ground like rabid beasts, drooling and snarling as their hands violated her body, tearing at her clothes, ripping her top. Clenching a hand down on her neck. I was afraid that this was it, that if the worst would come to pass, this could be her end, an all too common crime.
As I lay there with the two men pinning me down, as my vision and hearing slowly faded out, I thought of Lila. I thought of myself. About my choices. I thought about the madams who tried to buy me to profit from my body. I thought about how I turned them down, thinking I was too pretty and young for that. Was I vain, prideful perhaps? No, no, I knew it wouldn't change anything in the long run. After all, Lila died this way, too, even with her makeup.
"OI" A deep voice rang out. My darkened and blurred vision began to return as I coughed and gasped, and the tight grip on my throat was gone. My body sat up on instinct while gasping for air. I saw her two assailants before me, with their backs to me. I wiped the tears from my eyes so I could see, the two were facing a man in the distance.
"This ain't none of your business, you ain't a guard so fuck off will ya?"
"Yeah, we cornered this bitch fair and square; she's ours."
This might be my chance to get away. Most people would just ignore something like this and walk past, perhaps they might glance the the victim and report and at most report that the missing person was most likely dead the next week. Why was this stranger stopping them, though? Did he perhaps want to join in? That was the only thing I could think of.
Suddenly, one of my assailants collapsed to the floor in front of me, and my endless stream of thoughts stopped as I sat there, looking. I looked up to see the stranger placing a hand on his sword, his stance lowered slightly as his knees bent, his silhouette turned slightly. The other man, who still stood, lunged forward towards the stranger. Just then, the stranger, in one swift motion, drew his blade and sliced across the attacker's belly. I watched as the attacker stumbled, and a stream of blood flicked against the wall next to him. After a moment, a torrent of blood covered the floor as the attacker's entrails fell from his body. He collapsed, instantly, dead.
I sat there, wanting to scream and run. But I felt my body shake, my eyes widen so wide I felt they might fall out. My heart thumped hard, and my breathing became erratic, panicked as my chest felt like it was caving in. From the corner of my eye, I saw the other attacker draw a knife and lunge at the stranger.
The stranger, in another swift and fluid motion, swung his blade up, causing the attacker to stumble back. He raised his dagger again, but before he knew it, the stranger had swung horizontally once more. His blade cut clean through the attacker's arm, severing it as it fell to the floor. The stranger's blade lodged itself into the man's ribs. The stranger leaned back and suddenly pushed the blade deeper into the man, into his heart, before pulling his blade out.
The severed arm landed by my foot. My eyes locked onto it with one thought: get away. I couldn't stand, so I scurried backwards on all fours as the stranger walked towards me slowly. He raised his blade slightly and wiped it on his sleeve as he sheathed it. As I scurried back, my head hit a wall, I was trapped. The Stranger squatted down in front of me, extended his hand and said.
"You, hurt?"
I looked up at him in shock. His face was different, unlike anything I've seen before. Not just the shape of his eyes, the colour of his skin, but the fact that in his eyes, deep down, he actually cared.
"You, hurt?" He repeated again. I looked into the stranger's eyes, and he looked genuine, concerned, and worried for my well-being. It was a look I had seen only once before, and that was enough. I reached up and took his hand as she helped me stand.
"I'm okay."
The stranger sighed in relief. he then scratched his head, smiled awkwardly and said.
"I, lostu."
It was nothing but dumb luck. Anyone else could have come along and ignored what was going on, or worse, the local guards could have come along, stopped what was happening and then finished the job themselves. But it was this stranger with a strangely tan skin colour and narrow eyes with a strange accent that happened to come along. He seemed genuine and surprisingly innocent or naive; either way, it was obvious he was a foreigner, and it was obvious that he was safe.
"Where do you need to go?"
I learned the man's name was Takeshi, he was Metonym and a former soldier from a prominent warrior clan on the Isles. He had come to the Imperium as a spy on his own account. After some time and over a few drinks, I realised that he actually meant to say.
"Oh, so you're here to travel and learn about the world and then tell them what you learn?"
Takeshi nodded as he put down the half-empty beer mug. The three of us sat at a table in a bar. Takeshi, another older balding man, named Jake and me.
"Yes, I start west. I come here, then I go east, then back here. Then north, then here again. Next south. Maybe take five years"
"What do you plan to do once you're finished?"
"Go home, maybe. Some nice, here not. Maybe find town better than home? I finish, then I free."
"And you've been with him the whole time?" I asked Jake.
"Course, you meet a lost and confused foreigner near the end of the world, you can't just leave him be, classic western hospitality and all."
"So, how long have you two been travelling together?"
"Shit, hard to say exactly, maybe four years now? Without my help, his mission might have taken a full decade."
I thought about what that must have been like. To travel freely like that, to see the world, new places, new people, new cultures. To experience things that seem unreachable. It sounds like a dream.
"You could go with him, teach him to be more polite, maybe? A woman's touch"
I froze in place as my eyes locked with Jake's. It was as if this man were reading my mind. I admit that thought had crossed my mind to ask to join him, but I can't run off with any old stranger I come across. But then again, I knew he was a good man and was safe to be around at the very least.
It took three days of meeting up to talk over drinks before I made my mind up. At the same time, the two explored this outer quarter of the city. They told me that they had explored the inner and middle districts and had even managed to gain an audience with the small council in the palace, though they did not have the luxury of meeting Empress Fi. Over drinks, meals and small talk, the idea of running away on a grand adventure seemed more and more appealing, and my small life here of being sexually harassed, underpaid, and forced to sleep in a shed with bearly enough food to survive seemed less and less appealing. Besides, it's not like I was really leaving much behind, no friends, no family. What was there to lose? More importantly, what was there to gain? And so I left.
Jake stayed in the city for a while. He gained admittance to a reputable literary school in the Middle South district. He said he would study and then move to Vilta to work as a court scribe for a time, since he knew the language and anyway wanted to visit, so working there for a few years seemed like fun. After that, he said he might go to settle down with his parents home town and open a little book shop and enjoy retirement. No doubt he would beat us to Vilta.
So the two of us travelled south and eventually made our way to Balim, where we stayed for a few months so Takeshi could research and I could expand my skills with the Viltin language. They found the librarian of Balim to be accommodating. A few of them even spoke Nishigo to the delight of Takeshi, and they would spend most days with him as they would ask him about the Nishi Isles and write down what he said. The Isles were considered the second strangest continent aside from the unexplored lands of Metsa. During our time here, just a few days before leaving, Jake arrived. He told us over dinner that he was so skilled at reading and writing that the school gave him a certificate on the spot. He said he would spend some time here before moving on to Vilta. He joked constantly that if he were twenty years younger, he might stay in Balim permanently as a librarian.
After some time, the two of us continued south and crossed the border, leaving the imperium and entering the United States of Vilta. We did not travel down the emperor's walk road like Jake would, but rather broke off to visit each state as part of our mission for knowledge.
Firstly, we broke off the main road and went west towards the steps of the black lands. This state was split into two. The northern half and the southern half. The north half was nothing but plains of grass, but I was told the further west you go towards the ocean, you come across the southern tip of the Great Tahwil Desert. The southern half was mostly woods, and that's where the towns were. The capital of this state was a city called Ravens Rest at which sat by the black sea, known for its strange black-coloured rocks.
The following year, we made it down the spine mountains. A vast mountain range that ran down the western half of the country. Scattered in their depths were a few cities, including a grand one focused almost entirely around mining. I wish we could have seen it, but they told of a vast and massive underground cave network they had dug out that was a city in itself, with grand halls that put the imperial palace to shame.
In our third year, we explored the Ironwood Forest and its towns. There wasn't much to learn since all of them did more or less the same: harvest wood. Though the wood itself was harder than normal wood. Something in the water, they said.
That same year, we made it to Vilta, the city of spires. It was massive in size and surprisingly vertical. Where the imperial city was mostly made of smaller buildings, but it was vast and stretched on forever. This city was dense and tall, with structures so massive that it was a shock that they didn't ever topple over. It was here we found Jake once more, he had been working as a scribe for the past two years for the Viltin archives and had been engrossed in history and culture.
I was slightly annoyed at his teasing of Takeshi and I. He had caught on quickly that our bond was much closer than when we were in Balim. After years of travelling together, the two of us grew closer and closer. We were acting as a married couple long before we were. However, it took me until now, until we were comfortable in Vilta and spending time with Jake, it was only now I invited Takeshi into my bed.
It would be a lie to say I wasn't terrified. But he could sense it; he had this ability to know what I was thinking. He was kind, soft and took it slow. So slow, I actually got sick of waiting and pounced on top of him. I had been comfortable for about an hour, but still, he was taking it slow; I just couldn't take the waiting any longer. But he seemed to enjoy himself. Even then, I was still nervous, and even then he was still so gentle with me. Even though it was my first time, I didn't even bleed.
Jake was teasing me nonstop the next day. He could tell at a glance what had happened by the content and happy looks our our faces.
After some months in Vilta, we set off once more for the last leg of our adventure. Before leaving, we spoke with Jake one last time. He told us that he felt he was about fed up with living in Vilta, that he wanted to move somewhere quiet. He told us that he was moving to Trident Wood, a small town we had passed through before. It was small, quaint, quiet, peaceful and quite beautiful. He recommended that once this was all done that Takeehsi should consider living there. After all, he'll readily have a friend in that town.
Over the next year, we travelled up the west coast past ports and fortresses and stopping finally at the grand Naval fortress, The Doom. There were still a few places to go to further north, but some soldiers we talked to said they are all the same as here, all military, naval towns. It was from here that Takeshi wrote a letter to be taken on a trade vessel headed across the narrow sea, a trade vessel that he himself should have boarded. However, thankfully, he stayed. When we first met, he said that maybe he would find a place to settle down that's nicer than any place back in his home country. I don't think he ever found it; I think he only stayed for me.
So we went back to the ironwoods and the town of Trident Wood. We spoke to the village elder, who happened to be a relative of Jake and was friends with his parents in his youth. Takeshi was a strong warrior, so his mighty swing was greatly appreciated by the woodsmen, and he excelled at felling trees. With little else to do with my time while Takeshi was at work, I began to learn about the various unique mushrooms that grew in the woods. The special waters that flowed from Ironwood Lake that gave the trees here their unmatched toughness also affected other things that grew from the ground, as such, the ironwood forests had some mushrooms, herbs and other flora that only grew in this corner of the world.
As time passed, we managed to get our own home. It was a small farm plot, some twenty minutes' walk from town. The building itself was damaged and needed work, the soil was bad, but the property was cheap and its problems, fixable.
Jake would help from time to time, though he was starting to grow older and his hair greyed, his knowledge was helpful. We dug a well to draw up ground water which in turn helped to revitilise the soil nearby. Takeshi enjoyed the manual labor of fixing up the house, he found pride in it.
Life was good, for a time.
It wasn't long after the news came to the small town, war had broken out between the states of Vilta and Nishi. The demand for timber grew rapidly for the construction of new ships. A draft was issued soon after. In only the course of a few months, the population of the village halved as the men were taken by war, except for Takeshi. He was a foreigner and, as such, had no legal obligation to Vilta.
However, people stopped looking at him the same way, and people started to hate him for simply being. 'Why should my husband, my father, my son, be taken by war but not him? His people are who we're at war with, and he gets to remain here.' That was what he thought of him. He became a recluse and depressed. Then, a letter came.
He was summoned to war. But not for the side of Vilta, he was called to fight for his homeland. He was instructed to go north and cross into the imperium, to make his way to Port Mare and then back to the home islands.
It was the last night in Trident Wood that Takeshi was with me. We talked from noon till night that day and made peace. At my behest, we were intimate for the last time that night. Takeshi left the next day after a long-winded and emotional farewell. It was agreed that this was the end of their relationship, that I would try to move on, that I would leave this town and start fresh elsewhere with a new life and maybe a new love, until I realised I was pregnant.
It was a shock, only two months after he left, I noticed my normal cycle had stopped. Pregnancy was the only answer. I went to see Jake the day I noticed, and he confirmed that I was most likely pregnant. Just like that, my life came to a halt. I was meant to leave, to travel somewhere else, maybe to the parts of the world I didn't get to explore with Takeshi in the north, but now I was in no condition to travel; I was stuck here at least until I gave birth.
Once the baby was born, I was conflicted. A part of me hated this child. I often had the idea of abandoning it and leaving, like I always wanted to. But if I were to do that, I would be no better than my own mother. This child wasn't mine alone; it was also Takeshi's. I couldn't abandon his son. I couldn't abandon the last remnant I have of him.
Years passed, and the child grew. Before leaving, Takeshi spoke with me about the idea of having a child together. He said he had ideas for names. He wrote down on two pieces of paper two names, one if it was a boy, another if it was a girl, along with the same written in Nishigo, they were also written in Imperial, and so I named the child Shinya Akame.
I taught the child how to walk, talk, speak and to some small extent, read. I taught the child everything I could think of, and as time went on, I began to love my child dearly. I would comfort him when he cried after the other villagers wouldn't let their kids play with him, and I would help him learn about crops and mushrooms. I would do anything for that boy, but I wish I could do more, as he got older could see his loneliness and a deep sadness in his eyes. I wanted to make him happy…But I don't know how to do that.
Even from a young age, he took after his father. His skin and face looked different from other children his age. His face matured quickly, and after a while, at only the age of twelve, he already started to look a bit like his father. Metonyms age differently from the rest of us; they develop quickly and look as if they stop ageing for a long time. I was shocked when I learnt Takeshi was twenty-three when I met him. Now Shinya is starting to look a bit like him, I feel like he's noticed that as well. I look away when he looks at me sometimes, and I have trouble holding eye contact with him when we speak. Every time I see his face, it's a reminder of him; it pains my soul to see that face with that much sorrow. I missed him dearly and wanted nothing more than to be with him again, even after all this time.
Late one night, I couldn't sleep. The image burned into my eyes of my husband's face with that downtrodden expression. That same expression he had shortly after the war started, and he was looked upon as an outcast. It was the same face. I knew how to make him happy then, why not now?
So I got up, went to his room and approached him. I looked down at his sleeping body. It was summer, so he had kicked his bed sheets off in his sleep, and he wasn't wearing much. My eyes wandered, and even his body looked the same. No, maybe even better? I wanted it, I wanted to leap upon him like I did in Vilta when it was my first time. I wanted to see that happy smile he had the next morning. I wanted that again, I wanted what had been taken from me. As I stood there looking down at him, my vision blurred, my eyes welled, and I wept. I wanted to just walk away, but I also wanted him to comfort me. I'm so selfish, so shameful. I collapsed to my knees and cried loudly and deliberately. Shinya, of course, awoke. Confused, he asked me what was happening, but after a moment, he realised I was simply sad or upset, so he hugged me. It soothed me a bit, it let me relive some old memories. It made me a little happy.
But afterwards, when my tears ran dry and I left Shinya alone without explaining anything to him about what had just happened or why. I felt guilt, shame, and regret. I knew it was better to take this to my grave; no child should have to be burdened with the knowledge of what almost happened that night. But then another thought, what if he had liked it? Maybe I should try again and go slow like Takeshi did, so slow that he has to take initiative.
I lay in my bed battling with these thoughts and ideas, pounding at my skull like there was a demon in there I was desperately wanting to kill. What my heart wanted and what my head wanted were two different things. That night, I made up my mind, I would wait. I would wait until he was fifteen and then do everything I could for him to leave this town, to leave me. But what if he wants to stay? What if he does stay, and every year he looks more and more like his father? What would I do then?
From that day on, I would start drinking wine.
"So why did Father leave? Could he have just stayed?"
"We talked about that, he couldn't abandon his homeland, he had his honour...I called it stubbornness. But also, the villagers were hating him more and more every day. We were afraid that they might burn the farm down and try to kill us. But with you, they saw you as a poor victim of a foreign invader that threw himself upon me...funny how that works."
"So, is that why you never spoke of him?"
"Hmm, yes. It was always to protect you. I'm sorry, you're old enough now that you can understand. You've been old enough to understand for a while now, I just couldn't."
She began to cry again. It looked like that one night from two years ago when she barged into my room crying. I guess the memories are still painful for her even after all this time. All I could do was hug her. I didn't know what else I could do to help her.