Storm Phase – 14

In this epic fantasy, a young wizard with a mysterious destiny, a cat-girl ninja, and a diary that turns into a bat-like creature journey through worlds of monsters and mayhem.

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A hand gently shook Turesobei awake. He shoved it away and drifted off again, but the hand returned with a little more force. He opened an eye halfway and peered at his grandfather.

“What is it?” he grumbled.

“It is time for you to wake,” Kahenan said with a cheerful gleam.

Turesobei sat up and rubbed his eyes. As promised, his grandfather had worked him hard. He had inscribed practice spells until his hand cramped so badly he couldn’t flex his fingers anymore. Then, with drooping eyelids, he had curled up beside the writing table and had fallen asleep. He was surprised Kahenan wasn’t angry about that.

A light wind blew in through the windows. Rain pattered outside, and thunder rumbled in the distance. Turesobei stretched his arms. “What time is it, Grandfather?”

“One hour until midnight,” he answered. “Your father just arrived.”

“Where? When? Why didn't you wake me sooner?!”

“Now is soon enough.”

The giant door at the bottom level of the tower creaked open then slammed shut. Turesobei paced, retied his braid, and straightened his clothes. Finally, he stood erect and tried for a proper, serious demeanor. He had not seen his father in nine months. He wanted to appear strong and mature.

Noboro was a large man, so his heavy footfalls thundered up the staircase. Turesobei had inherited his father’s height, though not his bulk. Instead, he was willowy like his mother, though he hoped that might change in time.

“He had best hurry up,” Kahenan said. “I have a ritual I must finish tonight.”

Though Noboro wandered all Okoro, he rarely moved in a hurry.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep, Grandfather. I didn’t mean to.”

“You were exhausted.” Kahenan placed a hand on Turesobei’s shoulder and squeezed lightly. “I hope you learned your lesson.”

He was about to insist that he had when the door slid back and his father entered. Rain dripped from Noboro's battered cloak. His clothes and armor bore the stains and scars of long travel. Weapon strikes had left deep scratches on his lacquered, leather breastplate and forearm guards. A broadsword hung on his back. The giant blade was in a battered leather sheath that seemed older than Noboro himself. A thin saber in a scabbard hung from his belt. This much smaller sword, named Sumada, had been forged from precious white-steel.

Turesobei and Kahenan bowed, and with a sly grin, Noboro returned the greeting. “Father,” Noboro said formally. “And Turesobei. It warms my heart to see you both well.” He scanned Turesobei. “You've grown, my son. Why you'll be as tall as me soon.” He raised an eyebrow. “You are eating enough aren't you?”

“Oh, he does plenty of that,” Kahenan said. “He just takes after his mother a bit too much.”

“He does look more like her than me, and that, I think, is a good thing.”

Feeling embarrassed, Turesobei said, “How was your expedition, Father?”

“Good, Sobei. Very good. I found an artifact that I have sought for a long time now. It was very difficult to track down and even harder to recover.”

“What was it?” Turesobei asked.

Noboro scratched his cheek through his bushy, barely kept beard. His father looked like a savage compared to all the other Chonda Clan nobles. “I think I will have to tell you about it later.”

“Please, Father. At least tell me how you found it.”

“Not tonight. I need to speak with your grandfather about some rather important matters.” He sighed. “I’m afraid I'm not going to be here long.”

His voice cracking, Turesobei said, “You're staying through the festival, aren't you?”

He shook his head. “I am sorry, Sobei, but I cannot.”

“But you have to!”

“I would love to, but I truly can't stay, son. I raced home to consult with your grandfather right away and acquire provisions and a few guards. And I must hurry away as soon as possible.”

Turesobei’s eyes filled with tears. He didn't know why he had gotten his hopes up. It was always like this with his father. Something else was always more important.

“Noboro,” Kahenan said, “I have a ritual sequence I must finish now. I simply cannot put it off any longer. It will take me about an hour.”

“That's just as well,” Noboro said. “I need to take care of several matters and store… something… in the vault.”

“Of course. Wait for me in the Dairen Pavilion.”

“Why not in the tower?” Noboro asked. “I should think it much more secure for us to talk here.”

“Your extended presence may disrupt the carefully balanced energies within the tower. Besides, I have demons here. Should any of them break loose, they could rush to tell your enemies all the secrets they might have heard.”

“Those aren’t the real reasons, are they?” Noboro asked.

As Kahenan went back to his worktable he replied, “They could be.”

Turesobei walked downstairs with his father.

“Are you coming home?” he asked hesitantly.

Noboro slumped his broad shoulders. “I suppose I must, but not until morning. If your mother is up, tell her not to wait for me.”

“Yes, Father.”

“It's good to see you, my son.”

Turesobei smiled meekly. “It's good to see you, too.”

He trudged home and found that his mother, Wenari, had already gone to sleep. He wasn't surprised. His parents' arranged marriage lacked anything resembling love, or even friendship. They had never grown close. Partly because Noboro traveled all the time. But Turesobei also suspected that Wenari didn't really like her rebellious husband and had expected greater things of him.

He often worried the same would happen to him. He tried to meet Awasa's expectations, but she refused to even think of him as a friend. She was only fifteen, of course, so she might change her mind yet. He certainly hoped so.

After rolling his sleeping mat onto the floor of his room, he removed the new satchel he’d slung over his back. The satchel was just big enough for a single large book and a set of writing implements. Kahenan had given it to him for carrying around Chonda Lu’s diary.

Without even bothering to shutter the lanterns in his room, he collapsed onto the mat with a sigh. Minutes passed, but despite his exhaustion, sleep evaded him. As he thought of all the many times his father had disappointed him, Turesobei twirled his thumbs and stared at the wooden beams on the ceiling… until there came a tap on his door.

He was too exhausted to get up. “You may enter.”

To Be Continued…