A/N: I'm sorry, that this update took a while longer, but last week I totally forgot I had a wedding to attend to and then the rest of the week and the weekend was filled with family things... So glad, to be back.^^
And as an explanation for the title picture. I figured, I could show the positions on the map to you (because it is kinda funny). It will always be the last positions at the end of the previous chapter. ;)
At one point of his journey, Shimon had been on a lucky streak. When he had been on his way to the Crystal, sneaking out of his estate and burrowing warrior's clothing unnoticed, to call off the arranged marriage and, more importantly, to safe his sister, he had felt as if the Crystal's blessing had reached him.
In the next moment he had found himself stolen from, captured on the cart of a farmer being in a fierce battle against the content's of his stomach and after that being abducted – theoretically. Whoever the persons were, who stole the cart, had no idea what was inside, but still...
Trying to keep his breakfast inside and safe his clothes, he pressed himself onto the wooden planes of the cart, hoping to outbalance the harsh tremor of the cart rushing over the road.
He wondered, where the cart was heading to. It seemed to have sped along an uneven road for a while now, accompanied by the sound of galloping horses.
Another bump on the street made him fly in his cage and send a new rush of nausea into his head and stomach. Later one began to churn up and down violently.
Sucking in breaths, Shimon tried to get control over his body.
His throat constricted as if it called out for the content of his stomach to leave his body.
He wouldn't vomit.
He wouldn't submit to this weakness, not now.
He was a prince and he wouldn't soil himself in this awful smelling constricted room.
Yet, he was loosing this fight, being at the mercy of the cart's joggling motions.
Just, when he thought he couldn't contain himself any longer, he felt the cart was slowing down.
In his mind he thanked the holy Crystal for this blessing.
Still concentrating on his breathing, he could feel the much more softer motions of the cart until it stopped.
Shimon couldn't hear the stomp of the horses either.
It seemed like they had finally reached their destination. Wherever that may be.
Suddenly he heard a yawn from outside. "I feel tarnished and hungry, let's make camp first, Aniki (1)."
A grunt came from the side of the cart.
The very idea of food made Shimon retch. Trying to keep down the noise he covered his mouth with a hand.
Listening closely, Shimon could hear now the steps leading the person away from the cart.
This was his opportunity to escape.
Turning around, he looked through the little slide between the tarp and the back of the cart. He saw opened wooden doors leading outside of the building the cart currently seemed to be in. He wasn't sure, if there was anything or someone else in this room but he needed to get out, either way.
The nausea was killing him.
So he took his chances and pushed the tarp upwards.
He slowly climbed down the cart, pulling out his wobbling legs one after another. Reaching for his katana, he thought about fastening it to his side but the world was spinning around him.
He went down on his knees and pressed his forehead into the cool earth.
Hissing in and out long breaths, he tried to regain his composure.
When his stomach stopped revolting, he sat up and grabbed for his pack. Retrieving a bamboo container filled with water, he swallowed down a few sips of water.
A sigh left him, when his body finally calmed down a little bit.
Pathetic, that was, what he was.
Looking around he found himself in some kind of shed. Based on the huge scorches on the wall, he figured there must have been a fire in here once.
Regardless of what might had once been in this shed, he needed to know, where it lay and how he could get away from here.
Rising from the ground, he took his katana and finally bound it to his side again. Pulling the hood over his head he crept to the door and carefully looked outside. Shimon saw nothing but trees. This place looked like a small clearing in the wood. Nobody was in his field of sight and he assumed, that the people, who stole the cart must have their camp on one of the sides of the shed.
Slowly he leaned forward and looked around the corner. The horses he spotted a few feet away from him leashed to a fence, seemed to be a heaven's sent. He would take one of them for now. He could always sent the owners repayment, when he returned from his journey.
Once more he looked around but saw nobody. Sneaking towards the horses, he felt his luck revived.
He almost had reached them, when he heard an angry yell from behind him. "Oi, you there. Stop!"
Annoyed he clicked his tongue. Just when he thought luck was on his side again, he was proven wrong.
It seemed like he wouldn't get out of here without a fight.
With a swift move of his fingers he unfastened the lash on the handle of his katana and pulled it out of its sheath and turned towards the source of the voice.
He saw an unshaven man in dirty and tattered rags, walking towards him with a dull blade of a katana.
Letting his gaze slide from the right to the left, he spotted two other men, surrounding him, who grabbed for their swords, too.
Three versus one. The odds were against him but these people didn't look like fighters. Their gaunt bodies seemed to be weak. He might take them easily down, if he dealt with the first one quickly, despite the stress of his queasiness making him feel unsteady on his feet.
He took off and sprinted towards the first one, who picked up his sword in defense.
Shimon swung his sword back and pretended to attack.
As planned the man rose his sword to block.
Taking a side step, Shimon shifted his weight to the right and quickly slashed his sword to from the side. And cut flesh.
He almost didn't feel resistance of the flesh against his sharp blade, yet he had to push down the terrible feeling that rose within him at cutting someone for the first time in his life.
Yet, he had no time to let himself get confused by these feelings. Concentrating on what must be done, he watched the injured man jumping back and letting his sword drop, to hold his arm in pain.
Shimon sucked in a breath.
Two left.
He skipped his eyes to the side.
One of the others thrust his sword towards him. The other was a few more steps away. Making a turn Shimon narrowly evaded the attack of the first, feeling the wind of the blade's blow, pulling against the cloth of his hood.
Where they aiming to round him?
He needed to act fast!
Hitting the man into the inside of his elbow with his left arm, Shimon made him loose his grip onto his weapon. Quickly Shimon rose his sword and dealt him a hard blow on the head with the handle of his katana.
The man groaned and sank down.
One left.
Almost on command, he heard an angry yell directed towards him.
He grabbed the slumping body of the man with his unarmed arm and turned their bodies into the direction of the third man. That one stopped the blow of his sword in midair.
Shimon's gaze shifted to the sword below.
He kicked the blade on the ground away and pushed the unconscious body towards the third man. This one let go off the sword just in time not to harm the second man and caught the body.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Shimon rushed towards him and punched him in the face in the matter of a short breath's time. The sound of crushing bones rang into his ears. Judging from the pain in his fist, Shimon was not sure if it was the other one's nose or his own fingers.
The man sank to the ground buried beneath the body of the other.
Shimon kicked away this sword, too and turned to the first attacker, who was bowing down to pick up his sword again.
Shimon pointed his blade at him and told him, "I wouldn't do that, if I was you."
Fear crossed the anguished man's face. He raised his hands in defeat and fell down on his knees.
A relieved sigh left Shimon, while he felt a dull pain within his hand. His first real battle was a successful one, but it was yet again all thanks to Seigen-dono, who had taught him the ways of quick thinking in battle and making use of circumstances. It was not the most honorable way to fight but as it was as Seigen-dono had told him once, when Shimon asked him about the honor of a warrior of Narukami. Just as back then Shimon could hear the sound of Seigen-dono's voice drawling, "Honor? There is no real honor in fighting each other, if at least one of them has the intent to kill."
Now he looked at the man cowering in fear and the two unconscious bodies. What was he going to do with them now?
Rising his gaze to the shed, an idea crossed his mind.
A while later Shimon had tied the three of them at their backs together with ropes, he'd found in the shed. After searching them, he had taken a dagger from the second man, that he could make use of on his journey.
Two of them were still unconscious – blood sipped out of the nose of the third guy wetting his beard –, when he was finished. So he turned to the third one, the cut in his arm was still bleeding, coloring the arm of his haori in a dark red stain. He probably wouldn't die of the wound but Shimon thought, he needed to be more careful, if he was ever to fight again with this sword. The Vermilion Sword had waited ages to taste the fragrance of blood, it had been resting for so long, it would easily sink into a chest to still its thirst for blood. Now Shimon had to clear the blade, on which the red substance dripped down. While wiping the sword clean, he directed the question most important to him right now at the conscious man with a low voice, "May I ask where we are?"
"Tsk."
Continuing to clean his blade, Shimon waited for a reply but the man seemed to stay silent. Patiently Shimon returned his blade to the sheath and watched the man.
He said no word, but Shimon had no time to wait any longer. He rested his hands on his hips and stared at the man, waiting for an answer.
The man was seemingly growing more and more uncomfortable under his stare and grumbled, "North of Tsuchimikado, the Western Woods."
Western Woods? He was farther away from the coast now then before. The harbor was south east. And although Crystal Island was parallel to the northern parts of Tsuchimikado, Shimon would need to travel south to Shiromi first. Thanks to those robbers he had lost a lot of precious time. The sun had already begun to sink. There was no way, Shimon could cross the ocean today. Perhaps he wouldn't even reach the harbor.
Adding to that it probably hadn't become any easier to steal himself unnoticed out of the county. By now there were surely search parties looking for Prince Ikaruga Shimon.
Roughly he replied, "Thanks."
He turned around and walked to the horses.
"Wait! Who are you? Why do you attack people out of nowhere?" The man screamed after him, seemingly talkative all of a sudden.
Attacking people out of nowhere? It had been them, who had killed the farmer and abducted his cart. The image of the bloody body rolling on the ground covered in a cloud of dust, reappeared in front of Shimon's inner eye.
He looked over his shoulder, sending the filthy looking man, who had accused him so hypocritically, a scrutinizing gaze. "I could ask you the same, since you seem to have no regard to another ones life."
The man seethed with anger, "It's the others who have no regard for our lives."
A frown formed itself on Shimon's face, trying to imagine, what the man meant but no idea came to his mind. "What do you mean?"
The man bared his teeth. His body shook in restraint, while he looked down. He spat, "The three of us were warriors of Tsuchimikado once. We fought for the country, day after day. Day after day we risked our lives for our country. But then-" A sob left him and he squeezed his eyes shut. "But then we watched our oldest brother die. Watched a Narukami pulling out our brother's guts with his blade in front our eyes."
In silence Shimon waited for him to continue. Looking at the other two guys, he could see now the similarities between them. Beneath their unruly and felty hair the hollow part around their eyes and the crooked nose looked to be the same. Now he remembered, that one of them had called the other big brother. Shimon had simply overlooked this now very obvious fact earlier. He wondered, why.
He watched the man opening his eyes again. They were filled with tears. "Afterwards we deserted. And when we returned to Tsuchimikado, everyone ignored us, our families abandoned us, send us to the street. No one would give us a job, money or food. Luckily we found this abandoned place to safe us from freezing to death. Robbery was the only thing we could do. It's nothing to be proud of. But how were we expected to survive?"
Shimon had often seen the numbers. The reports send from the front were always giving a clear overview about deaths and other forms of losses. He knew a high number of those people missing in action were people, who deserted the battlefield. Yet, he had never thought about the life they afterwards lived. He could understand the misery, they had been going through. He could understand the heartbreak at loosing a dear brother. He didn't even want to picture seeing Keiji being stabbed to death.
This world was cruel. Tainted from war.
Deserters became outcasts. Outcasts, who were neither allowed to work nor to pay taxes. They were literally left on their own.
These people. They were as much in a right as they were wrong.
War blurred the lines between fighting to survive and murdering. On and outside of the battlefield.
Was it right, that people sacrificed themselves for the greater good? For a cause everybody expected but that hadn't come true in thousand of years?
Shimon was no atheist. But looking around, seeing people suffering, made the belief in the Crystal and the holy legend have a bitter, rusty taste.
Words of defense continued to bubble out of the man, "We stole the cart so we could start to store food for the winter."
And they killed an innocent man for it.
One life was simply traded for three other lives.
What was he going to do? He was the prince but he didn't feel like he had the right to judge them.
Turning his head away from the group of brothers, he walked towards one of the horses, a dark furred stallion, and unleashed it. Once, when he would return from his quest, he would repay these people for the mount and the dagger he borrowed.
"Wait! You can't leave us here. We will starve to death," he heard the man yell from behind him.
Shimon climbed onto the horses back and looked once more at the tied up men. "Don't worry, I am sure, you will be found soon."
Shimon spurred his mount and rode to the east. He was sure, that the search parties would come across this shed soon. The three brothers would either be set free or would be charged for their crimes.
This was the world of war the people had submitted themselves, too. For a century it had been the same.
His father had been the first sovereign to actually want to end the war. His grandfather and ancestors had been clouded with fear. Loosing the Crystal to Narukami, unsure of what they might do, had pushed them on in justifying a war that war, that was built on fear, hate and the belief, that acting according to the legend, would lead to its fulfillment.
Shimon remembered the anger-filled speeches of his grandfather. The hate against Narukami which dripped from his tongue with poisonous words. It had affected him as well, which Shimon had to admit to his shame. When he was younger, he believed the stories his grandfather told about the Narukami people about their voices being like rusty saws, making your eardrums bleed and their teeth being pointed, sucking out the blood and souls of the corpses of the fallen people of Tsuchimikado.
Having looked up to his grandfather, Shimon had been hit hard, when his grandfather had one day refused to wake up and he had continued to share this hate for their foe.
Making the horse jump over a branch, Shimon thought, 'That was until I met Seigen-dono.'
This world, the people submitted themselves to, Shimon had seen it for the first time clear, talking to a man of Narukami, a man with honor and wit, who abandoned his family for the sake of peace.
It had been a leaf turned for him. And as a prince of Tsuchimikado it was his duty to return this favor to his people.
This world reigned by war...
He couldn't do anything about it, except tear the source of it out of the earth.
Ending this war, had never been this important to him than it was now.
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(1) Aniki – Way to address the older brother but only in spoken form
One important question: Do you have difficulties at displaying the second chapter on the app even after the chapters were split?
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