The Guardian's Grimoire (19 page)

I understood her expression quite well this time.

“It doesn’t really matter. Here,” she said, pulling a
tiny black leather pouch out of her backpack. It had a thin tie to wear it
around the neck. “Put your money in here for now.” I did and put it around my
neck. “Anyway, the shop runner suggested a little restaurant a few streets
down,” she said, wrapping her arm around mine and pulling me with her down a
more deserted street.

“Shop runner,” I muttered quietly to myself,
wondering what they’re called in Sudo. I hadn’t meant for her to hear me.

“Proprietor, I mean. My English is very good. Ronez
said so.”

“So, why are we able to speak English without
worrying about others overhearing and freaking out?”

She frowned. “Who’s going to be listening anyway?
You’d be surprised what people would pass off,” she said. Her tone bugged me,
though.

“You’re using magic.”

She sighed. “Don’t tell Kiro. He worries too much,
and you notice too much. You’re too suspicious.”

“Paranoid; not suspicious,” I corrected. We stopped
at a little wooden building, consistent with the Japanese look, nestled between
two similar shops. There was a sliding wooden door and a sign covered in
writing, but the symbols seemed a little odd; they looked slightly more
complicated than usual. “Is this Sudo?”

“No, it’s Vido, which is the language most spoken
here. You’ll be able to tell the difference soon enough. That’s a sample menu.
This should be the place. Remember not to speak until I say.” She slid the door
open and we stepped in.

The place was much bigger on the inside than the
outside, but not enough to make it uninviting. On either side of the door were
four-foot-tall, dark red, wood dragon statues. The restaurant smelled like
really nice incense and had a smoky, dark atmosphere with music playing
quietly, which sounded very similar to the glass harmonica. The four main walls
were flat black, the floor was dark, soft wood, the ceiling was low, and there
were no (normal) overhead lights.

The light source consisted of small, colorful,
glowing spheres everywhere from on the walls to in the eyes of the statues.
Decorated paper lamps hung from the ceiling full of the small glowing spheres,
which made the patterns on the lamps appear three dimensional.

There was a glass bar to the left, lit up with a dull
light that was slowly changing from red to blue. Behind it was a glass case of
different drinks in wine bottles. A man in a ninja uniform without the headgear
was cleaning the wine case with a white rag.

There were ten little round rooms, barely more than
stalls and just large enough for a table and bench seating, each with a half
door and patterned paper shutter that pulled down. Every booth had a stone or
wood statue three feet tall of a mystical looking creature to the right of the
door. The statues all had the little glowing spheres as eyes.

Divina pulled me over to the bar, where metal strips
with slots and black buttons were evenly spaced across the glass. Divina and I
approached one and when Divina pushed the button, a section of the glass in
front of us, about a square foot, turned bright, opaque white like a computer
monitor. Words fluttered across the screen and Divina tapped the glass like a
touch screen. The words cleared and two small, light blue rectangles appeared
next to each other, a few inches apart.

She pressed her thumb against the one on the left and
it turned red. She then looked at me expectantly until I reached over and
pressed my thumb against the other one. It didn’t turn red and Divina frowned.
Then, almost a minute later, it finally turned red. I withdrew my thumb and the
screen changed again to display many pictures of different drinks in wine bottles,
side by side, with writing under them.

“I’ll pick a drink for us.”

I heard her voice in my head, clear as day, but her
lips never moved. The man at the case stopped cleaning, turned to Divina, said
something, and pointed to a white sign above the case with black writing.
Divina bowed slightly and said something in response. He returned her bow.

I was fairly sure it was about not using magic
because she didn’t explain. She drew her finger across the glass and the
bottles slid with it, revealing new drinks. She mumbled and tapped one of the
bottles. The other bottles disappeared, the one she clicked magnetized to about
six inches tall, and writing appeared next to it. She pressed the bottle and
until the screen returned to the bottles. Then she pressed the button, the
screen went clear, and a little card popped out of the shot.

I desperately wanted to ask questions. Divina took
the card and steered me towards a booth. There was a notch in the door that I
pulled to open it and found a round, cushioned seat surrounding the small
circular table. Divina sat on one side and I sat on another, then she pulled
the paper top down and sighed.

“Now we can talk. There’s nothing wrong with your
fingerprint, the man told me I couldn’t use magic by the bar, and the drinks
are nonalcoholic.” She answered my three main questions before I could ask
them.

“How did you know what I wanted to ask without using
magic to read my mind?”

“It was written all over your face when you thought
them.”

“You weren’t looking at my face,” I said.

“I have very good peripheral vision. What would you
like to eat?” she asked me. Either she was purposely changing the subject, or I
was too suspicious.

“Something local, good, and meat,” I said. The sudden
knock on the door made me flinch and hit my elbow on the table. Unfortunately
Divina opened the paper curtain as I barked out a cuss word.

The man from the bar gave me a worried look as he
handed Divina a glossy menu, which didn’t quite look laminated. There were many
pictures of food followed by words in varied colors. He then handed her the
bottle she picked out at the bar and two glasses shaped like short, wide wine
glasses. He left and Divina shut the shade.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. As far as he’s concerned, you uttered a
nonsensical sound.” She set the menu in front of me. “Does any of that look
good to you?”

Many of the pictures were what I would see at a
restaurant on Earth, not that I’d been to many of those. There were no
hamburgers and fries, but there was steak- though who knows what the meat was.
The majority of the selection was pieces of meat in colorful sauces. There were
soups, noodles, fish, vegetables, omelets with red sauce on them, and what
looked like sushi.

“Nothing looks bad. Can you pick something?” I asked,
sliding it back to her. She looked it over for a few minutes.

“What about yoksu? It’s very common in many places,
but the flavor varies greatly. It’s particularly good in Mijii. It’s also a big
hit in Anoshii; almost every restaurant there has it.” She looked over the menu
again. “There’s fugan. It’s only served in West Mijii.”

“Sounds fine.”

“It’s also poisonous.”

“What?”

 “It won’t hurt you,” she laughed. She slid the card
into it a small slit next to the door. “Quiet now.” There was a knock on the
door just a couple seconds later and Divina opened the shade. He asked
something to me, possibly expecting me to order, but Divina answered easily.

“Kiyode yoksu ed fugan go iyeto.”

“Arasone yoksu ed fugan gozenai,” he said with a bow
before walking away.

Divina shut the shade again. “Did you catch what I
said?” she asked. I nodded. “I said that I would like yoksu and fugan for two.
When you go to restaurants that use the card, they’ll serve you based on your
serving size. So if I only asked for yoksu for two instead of fugan as well,
they would have given us twice as much. The information imprinted on the card
estimates an appropriate serving size for you. I gave the information based on
what you ate on the ship. It also keeps you from accidentally ordering
something you’re allergic to.”

“But it’ll let you order something poisonous?”

“They still drink alcohol on Earth. It’s terrible for
you and makes you sick, but you are still allowed to buy it. Duran used to have
alcohol before they found ways to get the good without the bad. They make some
drinks out of plants that are good for you, relax you, and makes things not
seems so bad. Actually, there is still wine, but it has so little alcohol in it
that it’s nearly impossible to get drunk on it.”

“Why do they drink it?”

“It is a status symbol for some people. Anyway,
there’s a poisonous fish called fugan. Although the poison sack is removed,
there’s still a trace in the meat. The poison makes you relax and it’s good for
your blood pressure, and the meat is very good for healing, your heart, and
your skin.”

“And what if, because of my luck, they puncture the
poison sack and don’t realize it?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Then you die.” She laughed at my
expression, which made the room seem a little brighter. “Don’t worry. They
always inspect the food.” She opened the bottle and poured the burgundy liquid
into the glasses, then held one out for me expectantly.

I had no reason to trust the inhumanly beautiful
woman who forced me to drink a horrible potion, let me handle something that
could destroy a ship, and tricked me into battling a super powerful Guardian. I
took a small sip of the drink and found it tasted like some kind of berry juice
with a little bit of green tea and something else. It was very good. Divina
drank some of hers and we sat in silence for a few minutes.

“What language is Edward’s name in?” I asked.

She looked up. “What do you mean?”

“His name is Kiro. I know it’s written in Sudo, but I
was wondering if it’s a Sudo name. I know a lot of U.S. names originate in
other countries.

“Well, most names are in Sudo, unless they’re from an
old family that originated in a certain area. Most of the major lands have a
main language, either Vido or Modo, but like on Anoshii, they use Sudo because
everyone learns it in school. Kiro’s name is a very old form of Sudo that has
the same roots that Modo came from. His name was originally Kimivo. In modern
translation, his name would be Kirosado. Yatunus is a noble name in many
places, but in others, it’s infamous.

“Before the Reformation, almost two thousand years
ago, the world was divided by the main lands, which were called nias. It’s a
word meaning structure and unity. After the Reformation, people stopped calling
them that and now just call them judas, liem, or kura, meaning great lands, in
the three different languages. Before the Reformation, every land was divided,
developed, and ruled by religion. They all worshiped the twelve gods, but many
also worshiped minor gods. Tumordii worshiped the sky gods, who gave them rain
and sunlight. Zendii worshiped the land. Shomodii worshiped the four elements,
and they had a pact with Banjii, who felt like all should cherish all life.
Banjii and Mijii believed that even inanimate objects had spirits that should
be respected, but Mijii put the welfare of animals and nature above sago. You
can see it now, all the effects. Shomodii is still ruled by untamed, beautiful
but deadly elements, Tumordii is still ruled by the sky, and Mijii is still a
very unsafe place to live for sago, filled with untamable creatures and
flesh-eating plants.”

“What was Canjii ruled by?”

“Discipline and order. Still is, in fact, but without
the help of gods. Actually, remind me to tell you about the rebellion of Azes.

“Before the Reformation, every land had two ruling
families; one of politics, and one of religion. The families were sure to
intermarry to avoid confliction between them, but even that failed and caused
bribery and murders to occur. Then, the princess of the Shomodii ruling
religious family was arranged to marry the prince of the political family.
Neffal was the prince, next in line for the throne, and his father was about to
die. Leila grew up with Neffal and loved him like a brother, but would rather
die than marry him. She was an adventurous spirit but was not allowed to
explore because people could kidnap her. In fact, her sister was beheaded for
trying to kill her. Leila snuck onto one of her father’s ships and landed in
Banjii. Kimivo Yatunus was a young prince, third in line for the throne. He
wasn’t Kiro,” she explained when my eyes went wide.

“Another Kimivo Yatunus?”

She smiled. “Kimivo’s older brother and sister
recently fell ill under plague, but Kimivo did not want the throne, so he
boarded a ship, hoping to sneak away. There, he met sweet little Leila. They
fell in love and decided to run away together. They found their way to
Tumordii, where they built and lived on a farm. Three years later, happily
married and still head-over-heels in love, they had twin boys, one they named
after the goddess of love, and one after the god of freedom and spirit. But
that was the end of their peace.

“A young man, laden with the plague, found them and
asked for their help, which, of course, they provided. Leila personally nursed
him to health and then he was on his way one morning with no word or letter.
Less than two weeks later, Neffal arrived with a small army and demanded Leila
return as his queen. The boy they had helped knew Leila’s face and told him
where she was and who she was with. She refused, and he killed Kimivo. Leila
was captured and brought back to Shomodii, but her sons were never found.
Neffal arranged a huge wedding in front of thousands. Before she would marry
him, she turned to her people and told them that she had found her freedom, her
spirit. And then she called upon her power and killed herself.”

“Her freedom and spirit?” I asked. Then it dawned on
me. “Kiro was named after the god, right? Edward and Ronez were Kimivo and
Leila’s sons?”

Divina nodded. “Kirosado, which originated from
Kimivo, was named after both his father and the minor god of freedom and
spirit. That is another reason Kirosado goes by Kiro now; the story of his
mother and father is like the story of your Romeo and Juliet. It is famous and
beautiful and sad. While Kiro appreciates the name he was given, he doesn’t
want that image of love and loss.