While Satori and Kyou enjoyed their tea together, Sumitsu arrived at the quarters assigned to her and the Templars from Solaris. She followed the golden path to her apartments, wearily ascending the stairs and making her way through the ornately decorated corridors to her suite.
She walked in on Goji unceremoniously hurling a pair of undergarments at Naroki's face. She felt relieved it wasn't one of hers, but she couldn't tell whose underthings struck her friend's face. Goji started a little victory dance but froze the moment he saw Sumitsu. Naroki was about to launch into a tirade against Goji and his juvenile antics when he, too, froze at the sight of Sumitsu.
Watching her boys be as rambunctious as ever warmed Sumitsu's aching heart. Her smile shone brighter than usual, and her demeanor was less polished. She hugged both boys with an uncharacteristic embrace that revealed too much about her emotional state. She was hurting and desperately needed this connection. Both boys knew not to ask questions but to be there for her. They would probably never understand why their dear friend needed this hug, but they were happy to offer her support.
The hug lasted longer than either boy could remember, but once Sumitsu managed to compose herself, she released the embrace and smiled at both of them.
"Thank you for being you. I…" she trailed off, as if searching for the right words. "I needed the familiar." Naroki sensed that there was more to Sumitsu's grief than she was revealing.
Goji, on the other hand, announced, "If seeing underwear being thrown at Naroki's face is what you need, call on me anytime." This earned him a scowl from Naroki and a hearty laugh from Sumitsu, nearly a snort.
Sumitsu sank into a sofa a few steps away. As she sat, she was unable to suppress a deep sigh of exhaustion. The knowledge and revelations she had received at the Council—Kaniso's disappearance, Minori's dangerous mission, and the cosmic stakes resting on these two boys—had drained her spiritually, which, in turn, affected her physical well-being. These boys—one an anomaly and the other a decoy—had their entire plan laid out for her years ago. But now that the day had finally arrived, her confidence in fulfilling her part of the plan was waning.
Her demeanor was so uncharacteristic that even Goji took notice. He and Naroki sat in chairs opposite her, awaiting her permission to speak. They knew better than to pry or pressure her. When she saw their expressions, she couldn't help but wonder what she could possibly tell them.
"Goji," she started, deeply uncertain of what words to say. "Are you okay with our betrothal?"
The question caught Goji off guard. He didn't hesitate to respond. "Sure, I am. Why do you ask?"
"I don't…" Sumitsu struggled to express her feelings accurately; the words just wouldn't come to her mind.
While she hesitated, Goji asked, "Are you okay with our betrothal?"
Sumitsu looked up at him and searched his expression for any hidden meanings behind his question. Was she comfortable with their betrothal? Was she alright with how it was arranged? Was she willing to accept Goji as her betrothed? Her future husband? As the Avatar of Obedience, she understood it was her duty to obey Shinjin in all things, regardless of personal difficulty. But did she have the courage to examine the choices she was making?
In contrast, Goji was completely fine with the prospect of marrying Sumitsu. This choice had been made long ago, and he had long let go of any thoughts about it. With the decision in the hands of his superiors, he found one less concern on his plate. He had no objections either way.
Naroki was aware of Goji's indifference to his marital situation and was concerned that this indifference would extend to being carefree and indifferent toward Sumitsu's heart. The idea of Sumitsu ending up with someone who didn't love her as he believed she deserved bothered him. However, he recognized that Goji's carefree spirit was balanced by a genuine care for others. As long as that boy could be guided to see Sumitsu's needs, he would undoubtedly find a way to care for her.
Even so, Naroki believed he would be a better match for Sumitsu. He didn't need to be told to care for her needs; he could see them clearly. Nevertheless, she was betrothed to Goji and must obey Shinjin's decree. To even tempt her would be to invite spiritual death. So, he would remain her best friend.
Goji noticed the conflict on Naroki's face and the worry on Sumitsu's and immediately jumped to the wrong conclusion. "You know, Naroki. We could always wager my betrothal to Sumitsu in the tournament. If you beat me, you can have her." He beamed with happiness at his brilliant solution to both their problems.
"We both know you can't do that! It isn't up to you, and she's not some trophy!" Naroki's face flushed a deep red at Goji's cruel suggestion, despite his good intentions.
"Enough." The word was singular and soft, but spoken with a divine voice that seemed to reach their souls as well as their ears. Sumitsu rarely used her Avatar voice. Both Goji and Naroki silenced themselves and turned to her. She let the silence linger for several minutes before she spoke. "Naroki is right. I am not a token to be bartered or gambled with. Nor is my commitment to my duties up for negotiation. What has been set will be.
"Goji, we are to be wed once we return from this tournament. That said, there has been an additional decree. Traditionally, each combatant in this tournament is healed from their injuries or resurrected from fatalities. By Shinjin's decree, neither of you will be afforded that luxury. You will retain your wounds from every fight between bouts. Depending on how long it takes both of you to recover, this may postpone our wedding."
"Okay…" Goji didn't grasp the full picture. "That's fine." Why wouldn't it be? Naturally, they would postpone a wedding until the participants were healed.
Naroki could also sense that there was more, but he remained silent. He felt that Sumitsu's grief concealed deeper layers than she was revealing. Her meticulously maintained composure showed cracks he had never noticed before; the kind that resulted from shouldering unbearable knowledge.
"You boys could die, and I couldn't bear it if you did. I beg you both to be careful. Please." The weight of it all crashed over her. Kaniso was lost forever. Minori was walking into the same danger. Something out there murdered a god and reduced Tokimi to a shell of her former self in the aftermath. And these boys are prohibited from resurrection, so that she could lose them forever as well. "Please," she repeated meekly, tears flowing freely down her cheeks.
Goji launched himself into a massive embrace before realizing what his body was doing. Naroki followed suit, less impulsively but with equal fervor. The boys held her through the most human of emotions an Avatar could feel: fear of loss. She let their physical and emotional warmth ground her in the mortal plane. She was here now, and so were her boys.
The death of Kamoshami shook the entire Celestium to its core. One unexpected result was the scattering of dozens of mystical sunberries that once grew from the Tree of Life when the conflict started. Some of the scattered fruit were trampled underfoot, while others dimmed and rotted as natural law dictates. However, a few ended up in the hands of children under four years old and were eaten.
The children of Hogar who ate the sunberries were split into two groups. The boys were sent to monasteries where Kamoshami's Templars would have them study and train. Meanwhile, the girls have been living their lives normally up to this point.
Tokimi realized that these girls stood out among the other Hogarans; their spirit rings kept their vibrant indigo hue, while all others faded to a dull grey. The Widow Avatar made a plan to invite them to the tournament so other Avatars could see them, and maybe discover something that could bring the light of hope back to the Celestium after sixteen years of darkness.
The girls traveled on the same starliner that Goji, Naroki, and Sumitsu arrived on. But while they took the tram to the Templar Pavilion, these girls were given a ride in a drake-drawn carriage through the lush fields of gold.
They stayed in the apartments assigned to Hogaran Templars; rooms inside a large building whose front door faced the indigo path that led back to the pavilion. Inside their apartments, the Hogaran girls wore traditional festival attire—a white dress, a forest green sash, and a crown of holly—in tribute to Kamoshami.
Among them was a young woman named Tari, sixteen years old, with indigo hair cut into a neat bob and pale green eyes. She was shy around all these strangers, despite their shared circumstances and appearance. But despite her shyness, when she saw another girl start to worry and panic over a tear in her dress, she was quick to help her. "What's your name?" Tari asked as she knelt beside her and pulled a small notion kit from her shoulder bag.
"Momo," she replied after drying her eyes.
"Hello Momo. I'm Tari. It's nice to meet you," Tari said warmly, like a mother hen, as she threaded a needle from a spool of white. She gently pulled the torn part of the dress away from Momo's leg so she could sew it without worrying about poking her with the needle. "Where are you from, Momo?"
They all came from the same planet, Hogar, but the pilgrimage to the Tree of Life attracted people from across that entire world to a single location on the same night. "Northlund, between the Great Lakes."
"Is it as pretty up there as they say?" Tari kept her distracted while she quickly sewed up the tear and decorated it with lazy daisies that matched the embroidery on other parts of the dress.
"It is. It truly is," Momo sniffled and wiped her eyes, deeply thankful to Tari for her quick work and skillful hand. There was no longer any sign of the tear. "Where did you learn how to do that?"
"My mom. I've got six older brothers on the farm back home. Their clothes needed mending all the time," Tari rolled her eyes in mock exasperation as she told the story, her dramatic expression drawing a giggle out of previously distraught Momo. "And before you ask, yes, I always carry my little notion with me." She said, shaking the kit with needles, thread, buttons, and various sewing accouterments.
The interaction between those two caught the eye of the eldest among them, a young woman nearly twenty years old named Allisyn. She had long blond hair that was carefully braided in parts to form a crown, intertwining with her holly wreath. The rest flowed down her back in curling locks. Her appearance reflected her wealthy background. She stood out as an intimidating figure among the girls. Some shyly backed away, intimidated by her poise. Others sought her attention, hoping to join her clique.
The imposing woman approached the pair with the polished confidence that reflected her upbringing. Both Tari and Momo grew quiet in her presence. Momo looked as if she wanted to be anywhere else. Seeing the unease on Momo's face, Tari rose to her feet and positioned herself between Momo and Allisyn.
"Your name is Tari, correct?" Allisyn spoke formally with an aristocratic accent, like a true Belle of the Ball. Tari knew that although the voice was charming, it could hide malicious intent behind the sickening sweetness.
"Yessum," Tari replied, suppressing the urge to imitate the older girl's accent. In moments like this, she knew from her limited experience that being genuine was best.
"Thank you, Tari." Allisyn slightly curtsied, an action that surprised everyone in the room. This commanding queen bee was showing respect to this farm girl? Who was she? Was she secretly important? These were the whispers among the girls around them. "I appreciate what you've done for Momo. Your quick thinking and domestic skills have avoided potential embarrassment before the Avatars of the Celestium. For that alone, we should all be grateful to you."
A hushed murmur flowed through the girls. She was right. They were here as one. Their unity and uniformity would show in each of them. Appearances, stature, reverence, and pacing; they had all been drilled and trained for the upcoming task. Some of the meaner girls blushed in shame when they realized their mistake. Some of the shyer girls opened up and saw Allisyn not as a threat but as a mama bear.
In one conversation, Allisyn managed to shift the whole group's dynamics, thanks to Tari's generous and honest heart. She offered Tari a warm smile and a wink that quickly disappeared as her stern mask of authority reasserted itself.
Did I imagine it? Tari questioned herself after Allisyn turned and walked away.
"Did… did she just…?" Momo struggled to speak again, but she was honestly too stunned to manage it.
A petite brunette tugged on Tari's dress to get her attention. "Can you help me with my sash? It keeps coming apart." She wasn't the only girl to approach Tari with requests. Others with small concerns formed a line behind the brunette.
Tari found herself at the center of attention for a task she was best suited for. Her face showed resolve as she declared, "Yes. Yes, I can." And she did. That evening, her fingers were sore from all the darning, stitching, embroidering, and mending she had done, but her heart was full, and her body would sleep more deeply than it had during her entire off-world trip. All her anxieties about tomorrow had washed away in a single evening. She told herself she must thank Allisyn personally and privately when she gets the chance.