The Wrath Of the Forgotten (11 page)

A small chuckle erupted from the pits of Nori’s stomach, and it bubbled its way up through his throat. He didn’t let it reach his lips though, and he crushed it by clearing his throat. “To be honest, no one really remembers what it was an oath for. It’s still a very special poem because it exemplifies what every Onistan should strive to be like. My mother used to read the poem to me when I went to bed as a child. When I was drafted by the Qu-Tar, she gave me a copy of some of the greatest Onistan poems ever composed. She wanted me to have something of my homeland so I wouldn’t feel quite so out of place in the lowlands.”

Apisa said, “That sounds really sweet of her. I didn’t know that Onistans wrote poetry.”

Nori scoffed. “We produce music and art too. We’re not the beasts and savages that you lowlanders make us out to be.”

“Lowlanders?” Apisa smirked. “Looks like someone’s pretty high and mighty about their mountain home. Get it? High? Because you’re from the mountains?” She let out a little giggle.

Nori couldn’t help to crack a tiny grin as well.

Apisa cast a critical eye on him. “That’s all I get? Huh, you’re going to be a tough one to crack. Challenge accepted!”

“Challenge accepted? What are you talking about?” Nori asked.

Apisa pressed her thumb into the center of her chest. “I pride myself on making people happy. It’s my super special talent, aside from farm work and magic. Mark my words, big guy. I’m going to make you smile.”

“Right,” Nori replied. He stared ahead at the road winding in the distance.

“So tell me about yourself,” Apisa said. “What’s your home like?”

Nori shifted in the saddle so he could inspect her. Apisa rode beside him, absolutely relaxed. She gently held her reins and watched him expectantly.

“Why do you want to know?” Nori asked. “No one ever wants to know that kind of stuff about me.”

Apisa said, “I don’t want you to feel left out and unappreciated. Even though I said you were unwanted and unneeded before, that doesn’t mean I can’t make you feel welcome now. We’re traveling companions now.”

Nori viewed the road ahead of him. “I suppose we are. So you want to know about Onista, huh? Imagine being surrounded by the tallest peaks you’ve ever seen. The cool winds constantly blow around you like a mother’s delicate embrace. Every time you draw in life giving air, you feel a part of the mountain’s splendor in your lungs. Beauty lies all around you, in the forms of clouds, trees, and even the majestic mountains. The people who live in Onista all care about one another. They’re like extended family. No matter what, you have someone to help you.”

“Wow,” Apisa said. “That does sound nice. My home’s plenty pretty too. We don’t have mountains like you. We have some rolling hills, but most of it’s flat. The people who have lived in Buka before me cultivated the land to yield bountiful harvests, over and over again. We’re living on the fruit of their labors. The work we do today will serve the children of tomorrow. The air’s probably not as sweet as where you are from. Especially around the pig farms.”

Nori scoffed. “We have a couple pig farms in Onista. I remember the stink being pretty bad.”

“You haven’t truly smelled awful until you’ve strolled past the Buka farms. It changes you forever.” Apisa chuckled. “So you like poetry, and you play the lute. Why did you become a chew um… what’s it called again?”

“A Qu-Tar,” Nori said. “I didn’t have a choice. After I earned these scars, I was drafted against my will. I never got the choice to be anything other than an Imperial bodyguard.”

“So what would you have been, had you the opportunity to choose?” Apisa asked.

“You’re asking some deep questions,” Nori said.

“Well, I want to get to know you.” Apisa gently pet the back of her horse’s neck. “How else are we supposed to become friends if I don’t get to know you?”

Nori winced. His stomach clenched tightly and he averted his eyes from both the road and from his companion.

“What?” Apisa asked. “Did I say something wrong? You look even more upset than before.”

“No, it’s fine.” Nori sighed and slowly urged Mac to trot faster.

Apisa fell behind, but Nori heard her talking with someone. He kept his eyes forward. Nori’s insides squirmed as he rolled up the scroll and placed in back in his bags. Apisa still whispered to someone, but Nori distanced himself from the noise. He took several deep breathes and cleared his thoughts of his anxieties.

Over the next couple hours, the storm on the horizon had rolled much closer. Darkness had trailed underneath its cloudy mass, and thunder cracked in the distance. Judging from the discoloration under the thickest part of the storm clouds, Nori and the others could expect a heavy downpour. Nori beheld the immense splendor of the sea to his left, and to his right a vast plain of grass and hills stretched out as far as the eye could see.

He pulled on the reigns and stopped Mac. “We may want to make camp. There’s no telling how bad this is going to be. I want to make sure the horses have effective cover.”

Rayko, Apisa, and Flara turned their attention to the sky, and then nodded collectively. Apisa helped Nori set up the stable tent for the horses while Rayko and Flara worked on the sleeping tents.

Apisa waited until she and Nori got four of the posts put into the ground before she spoke. “Did I say something to upset you? I’m really sorry if I did.”

Nori tested each of the posts for stability, but refused to look her way. “I promise that you didn’t say anything to upset me. Don’t worry about me anyway; I’m just Flara’s bodyguard. I don’t really matter all that much.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but then refrained. Once the tarp was secured around the four posts, Nori led each of the horses inside and secured them to a thick iron bar that had been planted in the ground at the far end of the tent. At first, the horses reacted nervously to being put in the makeshift stable. After Nori gave them the feedbags, the horses calmed down.

The great downpour started just as Flara and Rayko finished the first tent.

“Get under cover. I’ll work on my tent,” Nori said.

Apisa and Flara gave him disapproving glances, but Rayko took them by the arms and led them to the first tent.

Rayko said, “You heard him, darlings. We need to get under cover before we catch colds. Nori comes from the mountains. He’s used to being out in the elements, I’m sure.”

The girls disappeared into the tent while Nori set up the posts for his tent. He stored his belongings in the stable to avoid them from getting soaked. It took more than ten minutes for him to get completely done. Water dripped from his clothes, so he took them off to let them dry. Thunder cracked overhead and the wind howled wildly. Rain fell upon the camp with such vigor. Nori just stared out into the rain. A profound emptiness pulsated within him. His imagination painted what life in Onista must have looked like at the moment.

He saw Onistans trying to get home in the pouring rain. Rather than get completely soaked, they would stop at a friend’s home or business. They collected together and shared stories and connections. Laughter kept the gloom of the rain at bay. It didn’t matter what they talked about, for they had one another. They weren’t alone.

Nori sighed and prepared his bed roll. A chill blew into the tent, but he couldn’t close the tent flap. Someone had to keep watch. The storm subsided after about three hours. By that point, the sun had only an hour before dipping below the horizon.

Nori put on his wet clothes and left his tent. He moved into the stable tent, opened one of his saddle bags, and took out the emergency stack of fire wood he had bought in Jadai. It didn’t take a long time to start up a fire.

As soon as it started crackling, the girls exited their tents and sat alongside the fire. A strange solemnness had come over the girls. They gazed into the flames as if searching for meaning.

Nori broke the silence. “So how much farther is this forest we’re looking for?”

Flara shifted in her seat and peeked at him through cautious eyes. “I’d s-say we’ll get there by the end of the d-day tomorrow. It would p-probably be a good idea to camp one more night before trying to go into the woods at night. F-forests are dangerous at night.”

Nori let out a humph. The warmth of the fire felt nice, and soon his wet clothes started to dry. Rayko yawned and moved toward the tent.

“I’m going to bed now. A lady does need her beauty sleep after all,” Rayko said.

“Actually, I have a question.” Apisa turned to Nori. “How is this going to work? Aren’t we supposed to take watches or something? Or did you plan on doing that all yourself?”

Nori gripped the tetsubo beside him. “I’m the most equipped to handle that. I’ve been trained to operate on less sleep than a normal person.”

“That’s just silly,” Apisa said. “How is it supposed to work anyway? We each get two or three hours for a watch? If so, I’ll take second watch.”

“That’s unnecessary,” Nori replied. “You all get some sleep.”

Flara interlaced her fingers together and closed her eyes. A purple and pink hue glowed up from the back of her dress. Pink mist floated up from her barely parted lips. A moment later, three fairly large brown spheres floated out of the ground. They took shape into half people, half ghosts.

“E-excuse me,” Flara asked. “C-can you please watch over us while we sleep?”

The kami spirits nodded and then descended into the ground. A few moments later, giant rock columns rose from the ground. Nori rose to his feet and held up his tetsubo. Giant figures made of rock pulled themselves from the ground and lorded over the group. The top of Nori’s head reached their waists.

Rayko chuckled. “Easy there, you brute. You don’t have to destroy everything you see. Those are earth kami. I assume they’re going to solve our ‘who’s going to be on watch’ quandary, right?”

Flara simply nodded. “W-we can all get a f-full night’s rest now. After eight hours, we c-can resume our j-journey.”

The three massive earth kami positioned themselves around the camp and remained still like statues. Nori studied them for a moment, and he lowered his tetsubo.

He said, “If it’s all the same, I’ll stay up for about three hours, just to be safe.”

Flara and Rayko moved to the tent, but Apisa remained where she sat.

“Would you like some company or something? It might be really lonely just sitting out here with them.” Apisa pointed to one of the massive forms. “I doubt they’re going to be good for conversation.”

“No thank you,” Nori replied. “I appreciate it. Get some rest.”

Apisa frowned as she moved toward the tent. A pang of guilt struck Nori in the heart.

“Hey Apisa,” Nori called out.

She gazed back at him. “Yeah?”

“How about you and I talk tomorrow?” Nori asked. “While we ride to the forest I mean?”

An appraising twinkle danced in her eyes. “You promise? We’ll actually get to know one another? I hate having people around me feel lonely or unwelcomed.”

“I promise.”

Apisa approached him and held out her littlest right finger to him. “Do you pinky promise? My granny always used to say you’re never supposed to break a pinky promise.”

Nori couldn’t help it. A small chuckle bubbled up from him, and he grinned.

As soon as Apisa saw it, her expression soared. “Ha! I did it! I made you smile! Now pinky promise me so I can go to bed. I’m tuckered out after a long day’s travel.”

Nori interlocked his pinky with hers. “I pinky promise I’ll talk with you tomorrow.”

Apisa nodded and then went to her tent. She didn’t look back before she closed the tent flap.

Nori gazed up at the sky and saw the last bits of light fade from existence. Soon the stars would appear, Nori always loved seeing the stars. When the first little light appeared in the heavens, Nori focused on it. He and his mother used to watch the stars come out, many years before. His soul trembled, but he couldn’t identify a cause. A deep longing took hold of him. It refused to let go. The darkness surrounded the camp, and the fire died down. Nori rose and went to his tent. Before he moved inside, he breathed in a final whiff of the sweet night air. Tomorrow would be better. After all, he had made a pinky promise.

THE QUIET STILLNESS
that had dominated Tov’s camp all morning finally started to dissipate as the sun reached its zenith. Tov sat on the log before the burned out spot where the fire had burned the night before. He twirled a small blade of grass in his fingertips.

It had been so easy to pluck it from the thousands of other surrounding blades of grass. With little effort, it was split apart from its roots. By all accounts, the blade of grass was weak. During last night’s storm though, Tov had seen something unique. A great storm had ravaged the area, with howling winds and frequent crackles of lightening. The gusts had been so great that the few trees in the area groaned in protest as the wind had nearly snatched their branches away. When that same wind had blown upon the oceans of grass, the individual blades just danced about, unconcerned with the storm’s fury.

Tov studied the grass closer. How could something so weak be able to withstand forces that boasted the strength to topple tougher entities? The humans and yokai of a thousand years ago managed to topple their divine masters. Now, the Yaoguai were the grass whereas the human filth had become tall trees. The yokai traitors had no doubt thrived as well, while the Yaoguai had to cling to the shadows, hoping to avoid detection. Would the same principle that worked a thousand years ago work today? Would the weaker of the races be saved while the dominant ones were consumed by the ravages of destiny?