Chapter IV.I (4.1) - Wake

  Kizu stood amongst the mourners. Everyone wore dark colors and words were spoken softly with heads bowed in respect. At the head of the room, three paintings floated, suspended midair. The center image was lifesize, depicting the great Emperor Honzo. At his side, Warlord Kotei Zenchi looked down at them from above. A haiku had been inscribed at the bottom of his painting. Kizu hadn’t yet gotten a good look at it, but he caught the glimpse of a few characters of the Universal Script which hinted at it being about the rebirth of flowers in the spring.

  Finally, the last painting was the one that pained Kizu the most. Unlike the other two stoic men, the young man’s image beamed at them, his image caught midlaugh. He wore a plaid kimono, completely unlike anything worn by the other nobility. Shiroi, Prince of Hon. He died protecting the Emperor, the same as Warlord Zenchi. Or, at least, that’s what the public believed. And perhaps it was true. But Kizu still remembered that cell below the Kotei family palace that had housed his half dead corpse for weeks. His ghoulish body with a shattered soul that only retained raw instinct and lacked a mind or emotions.

  That was dead too now. Any remaining piece of Shiroi had been washed away after they flooded the World Dungeon beneath the city. They’d recovered his body in the aftermath, bloated, boiled, and long beyond the state of death.

  Kizu knew Aoi had wept after seeing the corpse. And he knew that Basil had been there to comfort her. Still, he’d done what little he could to help his friend. Mostly, that involved trying to keep his wards from the throats of Aoi’s younger sister. The younger princess had been a mess after her brother’s official death.

  “She’s glaring at me,” Mae whispered to Anata. “If she thinks she can take me just because Kon is back in the room, she’ll be in for a surprise.”

  “You’re not fighting,” Kizu said. “This is a wake. A time to respect the dead. You wished to come here to pay your respects. That does not include exchanging blows with the deceased’s sister.”

  Mae grumbled and returned Princess Kiiroi’s glare from across the room. There were streaks of eye makeup down the princess’s face from recent tears but at the moment she looked ready to tear out Mae’s throat. Thankfully, the princess’ dopey little brother waddled behind her, pointing at different people, oblivious to the depressing atmosphere. He bumbled into his sister as Kiiroi stopped mid stride to match the Kitsune girl’s glower. That broke the tension between the girls as the princess started berating her brother and Kizu was able to shuffle Mae to the other side of the wake.

  There were hundreds of people in the room paying respects to the dead, so losing sight of one, short princess wasn’t difficult.

  Emperor Sasaki was speaking to a small gathering of hunched humanoid people with spiral shells exiting the back of their craniums. They wore cowls to keep their colorful shells out of sight during the wake, but their flat, slimy faces were unique and stood out.

  Not far from them were those wearing turban wrappings over their faces. Kizu avoided them as well. He didn’t like how the shadows shifted at their feet. Or how their eyes glowed softly from slits in the cloth.

  Kizu did mingle with some of the more familiar races. No Kemon were invited to the palace, though some assumed Mae to be one, and there were only a few Tainted. All looked shaken and unwilling to converse. So Kizu ended up among the humans from Tross and Hon.

  While Kizu didn’t know the Tross Senators or Hon Parliament members, he did know several of their children. A few of his peers from Shinzou Academy attended the wake. He spoke to Ione who was uncharacteristically serious and her twin Sene who was characteristically serious.

  Ever since Ione’s collapse at the coronation, she’d been quieter. Kizu still shuttered at the memory of the dead witch Chimae’s voice coming from Ione’s mouth. Medical staff had inspected her but found nothing notably different about her physical body. And, despite Kizu’s encouragement, Ione had since dodged around Aoi’s many attempts to prod her soul for damage.

  With the twins both acting so somber, he actually struggled for a moment to distinguish them, something he hadn’t had any problem with since his first week at school. But that confusion only lasted a few seconds before Ione pulled out a deck of cards and started leafing through it while Sene scowled at her.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “What is that?” Mae asked, standing on her tiptoes to get a better look at the cards.

  “It’s a pocket bestiary!” Ione said. The question instantly snapped her out of her depressed attitude. She proudly flipped a card around to show Mae the image of a multi-headed bear standing on its back legs and roaring.

  “Woah! What are the words and numbers under it?

  “It tells me the basic blood cost for me to summon it and what abilities it's capable of. The blood cost was Aoi’s idea. She also painted it for me. I only have a couple so far, but soon I’ll expand it further.”

  Kizu winced. This was not a good time to be idly chatting about bestiary cards. A quick look around the room showed a couple nearby people giving them irritable glances. He said as much to Ione and convinced her to put the cards away for now.

  After they loitered on the edges for a while, Kizu’s eyes kept drifting back up to the paintings above them. Sticks of incense burned to either side of the images, filling the room with a pungent aroma. He didn’t care much for the Warlord or dead Emperor. He’d only spoken to them once and it had been uncomfortable. But Shiroi was different. He felt a hollow sense of loss as he stared into the smiling young man’s face. Always quick to laugh or defuse tense situations. The prince had only ever been kind to Kizu as he showed him around the city and chatted with him. And now he’d never see him again. It didn’t quite seem right. Shiroi had been infected and turned into a ghoul, but there had always been a part of Kizu certain that Aoi would find a way to heal her brother.

  That had been stupidly naive.

  He asked Ione to watch over Anata and Mae for a minute while he walked over to pay his final respects to the dead.

  There were a lot of people in attendance, and it became more crowded the closer he got to the shrine at the head of the room.

  As he approached, he realized each stick of incense burned a different aroma. Obviously the former Emperor’s was the most distinct. It smelled of sunflowers on a clear, fresh summer day. In contrast, Warlord Zenchi’s incense smelled like vanilla, sweet and warm. Both fragrances wafted by, far stronger than Shiroi’s.

  Shiroi’s incense had a subtle scent. Kizu closed his eyes and focused on it. It was an earthly scent. One that reminded Kizu of dirt and moss. It wasn’t flamboyant or spectacular. Instead, it was grounded. It sparked memories, sending Kizu back to his childhood in the Hon Basin. He felt a tear trickle out from the corner of his shut eye. Kizu wiped it away, squared his shoulders, and continued forward.

  Most people were busy paying their respects to either the dead Emperor or Zenchi, so once Kizu pierced through the throng, he found that the space beneath Shiroi’s shrine was far less crowded. Only a few miserable people kneeled below it.

  Roku, the young ice mage delver, bowed his head to Shiroi. His hands clasped in a silent prayer. Kizu longed to go to him and apologize. But apologize for what? He had told Aoi to release the water that drowned Shiroi’s ghoul. Should he be sorry for that? If he hadn’t demanded it, Roku would be dead instead. Along with nearly everyone else in the city. Instead of speaking, Kizu hung back.

  “Dead,” a monotone voice said behind him. Kizu whirled around and saw Inari Akira frowning up at the shrine. They’d met briefly at Yamagako Academy in the Hon mountains. He must have special permission to leave the academy for the wake. It was odd seeing the boy without his usual slight smirk. Instead, Akira looked…pensive.

  “Yes,” Kizu replied stiffly. “Your point?”

  “I don’t have a point. He’s just dead. And people here weep for him. Nobody does so for the other two. They throw themselves at their shrines, but all with dry eyes. I wonder why that is. Because he was younger, perhaps? They see it as more of a tragedy for someone without many years to be taken. That’s my hypothesis.”

  “Because people loved him.”

  “Hm. You think so? Love. Why though?”

  Kizu just shook his head in disgust.

  “I’ll be transferring to your academy next week,” Akira said, still staring at the shrine while completely pivoting the subject.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m curious about the other peoples in the world. First genocide of the gnomes and now the Tainted makes me want to study them before they all disappear. There aren’t any at Yamagako. And, of course, I want to know more about my uncle’s bizarre death.”

  Kizu’s mouth went dry. He didn’t need an Inari looking further into Inari Kusatta’s attack. If someone from that family discovered the existence of Anata as the Blood Harbinger, it could spark a world-wide manhunt for her. At first he said nothing, not trusting himself to not give anything away. But then he realized that in itself was a response. So he simply said.

  “Interesting. I hope you find any answers you’re looking for.”

  Akira’s eyes finally left the shrine to meet Kizu’s. Something danced in the back of their cold, blue sheen. And the ever present smile returned to the tips of his lips.

  “I hope so too.”

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