Brave Story (73 page)

Wataru went back to Kee Keema’s place and tried to get some rest.
Sleep, unfortunately, proved elusive. Wide awake, he stared up at the ceiling all night.

With the dawn, the sky grew light, and the sound of the waves grew louder. It was as though the sea had been asleep too, and now was waking for the day. Wataru lay still, hoping beyond hope that the soft sounds from the shore would somehow wash away all memory of what happened on the beach the night before.

Somebody was shuffling across the sand outside their hut.

“Oy, a messenger!”

Someone else was waking another person up in a hushed voice. There was talking.

“Look, in the sky to the east. Why, it’s another karulakin!”

“You’re right. That golden banner—isn’t that the mark of an official emissary from the government?”

So it had come already. Wataru sat up on the broad, soft leaf that covered his bed. Walking to the wooden frame that marked the door, he lifted the screen to see a crowd of waterkin gathered, pointing toward the eastern sky. Some had even climbed atop the roofs of their houses.

Something red was glimmering like a bright star. Wataru squinted to see flapping wings and a long, flowing golden banner stretched across the sky. He turned and gave Kee Keema a light push.

“Hrm? Urk? Up already, Wataru?”

Wataru looked into his friend’s sleepy eyes. He was going to tell him to get up and get washed, but the words caught in his mouth. Kee Keema frowned and, finally, sat up.

“Oy, what’s the matter there? I know, your head hurts! I never should’ve let them make you drink that stuff. Heh. Sorry about that!”

Wataru shook his head. Then he asked a question that surprised even himself. “Kee Keema, where are your parents?”

“Huh?” he said rubbed his eyes.

“We didn’t meet your parents yesterday, did we?”

“That’s true. I guess I was too busy talking and partying for all that. My Ma and Pa have been in Arikita for three months now. They’re building a big hospital in the town of Parth, and my folks are helping carry up the materials. Sorry you couldn’t meet them.”

“Do they live with you, normally?”

“Nope. This here’s my place, and mine alone. Ma and Pa live in a big twostory affair near the Elder’s pagoda. Why do you ask?”

“It’s…nothing.”

Kee Keema grunted and scratched his chin. “Maybe you saw your parents in a dream, eh? That it? Feeling a bit homesick?”

No, that’s not it. I just can’t…

Just then, a sound like someone banging on a metal washbasin drifted in from outside.

“Oy, oy! A messenger! A messenger’s come! Everybody! A messenger from the government! All to the Elder’s pagoda! Messenger, messenger!”

Kee Keema’s mouth opened. “This is something! I wonder what’s up?” The giant waterkin stood, cradling his throbbing head in his hands, and rushed out, saying something about taking a quick dip in the sea first. Wataru stepped outside. The karulakin was no longer visible in the eastern sky.

That means he’s already landed.

Wataru sat at the top of the steps leading up to the entrance to the house. The town crier came by, banging on what looked less like a washbasin than it did a large stew pot. Wataru heard similar noises coming from around town. The criers were out in force.

“Good morning, Wataru.”

Meena’s face peered out from beneath the rolling shade next to him. A white patch of hair behind her ear was ruffled from sleep. “I wonder what that’s all about?” she asked with a worried glance at the crier.

“Do they often send out messengers like this?”

“No. I’ve seen them only once before, myself. I think it was when somebody important in the government died. Quite a rare event, in any case.”

A large crowd had gathered around the pagoda. Everyone was quiet, and someone—perhaps an adviser—was standing next to the chief, speaking with him in hushed tones. He was the first to tell the crowd about the message the karulakin had brought. Then, like an interpreter, he relayed the Elder’s comments as the Elder muttered softly in his ear. Meena explained it was because the Elder’s voice had faded with age.

Wataru and Meena stood behind the large crowd of waterkin and observed the gathering. The crowd didn’t seem too surprised by what they heard.

Said the adviser: “The Elder speaks! He says that this world, and our lives, were given to us by the Goddess. This is a certain and known truth. Our daily livelihood, our strong arms and backs, and the sea which gives birth to us and receives us in our final days—all were made by the Goddess.”

“It is so!” the crowd chanted.

“If the Goddess were to demand of us a sacrifice, it would be our pleasure to provide such. Do not fear, my friends. For the finger of the Goddess points always unerringly toward the truth.”

“It is so!”

“The one who is chosen is the embodiment of all our hope. If the finger of the Goddess should point at you, you would rise as a hero! It is so!”

“We shall not fear!” all the waterkin gathered there cried as one.

When the crowd quieted down, the Elder began speaking to his adviser once again.

“We waterkin honor the ancient teachings of the Goddess,” continued the adviser. “As such, we are distinguished among all the races in Vision. We have much knowledge. Many of us already know of the Barrier of Light, and of the sacrifice, as it has been told from generation to generation among our people.”

Many heads in the crowd nodded. “My,” said Meena, looking startled. “I don’t think many other people know about it. It was sure news to me.”

“It is because of this that our Elder weeps not a tear for our village. He believes in you all.”

A great cheer rose up. The adviser lifted his massive arms and silenced the crowd. “But Vision is vast. There are some races and peoples who do not share our unerring faith in the Creator. And these tidings are sure to bring them much fear. I ask that none of you be swayed by the disturbances to come. We waterkin have lived since antiquity under the Goddess’s wing and so shall we for all time!”

“For all time!” The crowd hooted and hollered, pumping their fists in the air. Then the adviser turned and pointed toward the northern sky. “The starseers of Sasaya predict that Halnera shall begin this very evening. The Blood Star will appear upon the horizon—a glowing red sign of the age. But, I ask you, let us pass these days of Halnera in peace. On the honorable soul of our people let us swear our loyalty to the goddess here. We will wait with reverence the renewal of the contract between our goddess and the Lord of the Underworld!”

As one, the waterkin rose and gave a great cheer. Wataru spotted Kee Keema in the crowd, cheering along with the rest. Then, the waterkin joined their voices in harmony in a song of praise to the Goddess.

“According to the karulah who brought us this message, there are already some disturbances in parts of Arikita and Bog. When we lose our faith, we become weak. As we drive our darbabas across this land, we may encounter some of those who have lost sight of their faith, but I ask you to remain steadfast and continue to aid one another. To our leaders, I ask you to give guidance to those whom you can reach.”

And the gathering was over. The darbaba drivers—over half of the town, as it turned out—were directed to go to a separate meeting later. The waterkin shuffled slowly off.

“Are you okay, Meena?” Wataru asked.

Meena smiled. “I’m fine. It’s quite a surprise, but still, it’s only one person in all of Vision. I doubt I would be chosen for such a task.”

Meena pulled Wataru away from the crowd so as not to get in the way, and pranced over to sit on some nearby wooden crates.

“I wonder where everyone in the Spectacle Machine Troupe was when they heard the news. I hope the children aren’t too frightened. Then again, with Bubuho in charge, I’m sure he’ll keep them all in line.”

Wataru looked down at the ground.

“How about you? You look pale,” Meena said, still holding his hand. “You’re worried for us, aren’t you?” She smiled. “Well, don’t be. We kitkin may not be as fervent as these waterkin here in our faith for the Goddess, but we are devout in our own way. Starting tonight, I will pray to the star in the north. I will ask the Goddess. If she must take a sacrifice, I would ask that she do it with kindness, that there not be more sorrow.”

“Is that enough?” Wataru asked sharply. “Don’t you think it’s cruel of the Goddess to demand something like that in the first place? Shouldn’t we try to change it somehow? I mean, it just doesn’t seem right. Even if it’s only once in a thousand years, why should they need a sacrifice to defend the world?”

“Well, it is the Goddess’s world after all. We didn’t make it. I don’t think there’s anything we can do about it.”

“Could you say that, even if you are the one chosen as the sacrifice?”

Meena withdrew her hand from Wataru’s and put it on her cheek. “Why, I—I don’t know.”

“You do know! You wouldn’t like it one bit!”

“I suppose. But maybe being chosen would free me from that. Maybe the people left behind wouldn’t be sad either. I’m sure the Goddess would arrange things that way.” Meena shook her head. “It’s like what the messenger said. The sacrifice, the Great Barrier of Light, and Halnera have all existed for as long as we know. They were only kept hidden until now, save in places like this, where knowledge was passed down the generations by stories.”

“That’s the way it’s been in the past. It should stay there. It shouldn’t have to happen now, still. Isn’t the fact that the United Southern Nations decided to make the knowledge public proof enough that times have changed? I was relieved to hear that there were disturbances in Arikita and Nacht, to be honest. It would be weird if everybody just took it smiling like these waterkin here.”

“Wataru…” Meena said, her voice choking, “do you know what you’re saying? Didn’t those fanatics almost kill you back at that hospital? Have you forgotten that? What you’re saying is no different than what those believers in the Old God say.”

No, it is different. But Wataru couldn’t bring himself to say it.
It’s not about faith in the Goddess…

I’m just frightened. I was scared when I heard the sacrifice would be chosen from the people in Vision. I was scared when I thought it might be you or
Kee Keema.

And now it’s worse. I’m a Traveler. That gives me a fifty percent chance of being chosen. It’s either Mitsuru or me. One of us has to go. Of course I’m scared.

But Wataru didn’t know what to do. Should he try to get to the Tower of Destiny before Mitsuru, have his prayers answered, and escape to the real world? Would that make him happy?

Or would he ask the Goddess directly?
No, don’t change my destiny. I only ask that you abandon the practice of taking a sacrifice. Then I can go home in peace.

But what would happen then? He would be alone with his mother, hurt, without hope. His father would never look back, that was clear. Even if Wataru tried to chase them, he’d just have to face that woman again, Rikako Tanaka.

It’s not fair, it’s not right, it’s cruel. No matter which way I go, it’s a dead end. And if I sit here feeling sorry for myself, Mitsuru will reach the Tower of Destiny before me, and I’ll be left alone. The sacrificial Traveler.

“Traveler!” a loud voice called out.

Wataru looked up. The Elder’s adviser from the gathering was standing at the foot of their stack of crates, looking up at him.

From this close, Wataru could see that around his eyes and on his bared shoulders were written countless letters in fine ink. Tattoos. The adviser smiled, and the words by his eyes twisted upward. “The Elder wishes to speak with you. Might I?” the second half of the question was directed at Meena. She nodded.

“Then come with me,” said the adviser, reaching out a hand to Wataru. “And you, kitkin girl, you might be interested to know that the karulakin messenger from the United Southern Nations is resting in the hut by the town gate. I believe he will leave soon, but if you wish to entrust with him a letter for your home or family, you should ask now.”

The Elder was sitting where he had been that morning. He seemed more relaxed now, leaning up against the wall, with one leg bent.

“You may sit here,” the adviser said, indicating a round woven mat in front of the Elder. When Wataru sat, they were only a few feet apart.

“Our Elder is quite old, and as such he can hardly hear,” the adviser said, taking up a position at the Elder’s side. “Still, he hears with his heart, and he heard the voice of your heart from the very beginning. He knows your pain and that is why he has called you here.”

“The voice of my heart?” even before Wataru finished asking his question, the Elder slid forward with surprising speed and placed his clawed hands on Wataru’s head. Wataru jerked backward reflexively.

“Do not move!” the adviser said harshly. “Be still a moment.”

Wataru crouched and was still. It only lasted ten seconds or so. The Elder released him and slowly sat back down. Then he whispered in the adviser’s ear.

The adviser nodded slowly and looked back at Wataru. “You have been bewitched by a demon.”