Storm Phase – 18
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.
Turesobei woke to the touch of a wet cloth dabbed on his forehead. He was sweating and shivering, cold without, burning within — as if he were plagued with a fever. His limbs tingled as if they were waking from sleep, and his head was thick and fuzzy, as if a woolen scarf had been crammed into his skull.
Kneeling beside him in the pavilion, Kahenan leaned in and smiled. “How do you feel?”
Sluggishly, he attempted to sit up. Pain lanced from his neck and into his chest and shoulder. “Ow!” With his skin prickling, he slumped back, groaning. “I don’t think… I’ve ever… felt worse.”
“I imagine not.” Kahenan dipped the cloth in a bowl of water. “The anti-toxin spell is far from pleasant.” He pressed the cloth against Turesobei’s head again. “You are quite lucky to be alive. You should have died before I reached you.”
“I tried to… cast the *spell of summer healing*.”
“An excellent choice to slow the poison. And it must have worked. Otherwise, you would have died before I could reach you.” He dropped the cloth in the bowl and stood. “You gave us quite the scare. I trust you will be more careful in the future. And that you will refrain from spying on people.”
Before he could apologize, two zaboko guards standing watch at the door stepped aside and Noboro strode in. He knelt and patted Turesobei on the head. “Are you okay, son?”
“I’m alive.”
“You are strong,” Noboro said, “and I’m sure you will feel better soon.”
Some strength was already trickling back into him, and the woolen scarf stuffed inside his skull was unraveling. “Did you get him? The assassin.”
With a grim expression scrunching his eyebrows into one angry line, Noboro shook his head. “The bastard slipped away before I reached you. We have every available guard searching the city, but I don’t think we’ll find him.”
“You're not going to take me with you now, are you?” Turesobei said. “Because it's too dangerous, and I screwed up.”
“You heard our discussion?” Noboro asked.
“All of it,” Turesobei confessed.
“Spying is wrong.”
“Yes, Father.”
“That said…” Noboro looked to Kahenan, who nodded “…you can come.”
“Really?!” He surged upward to hug his father, but a wave of dizziness forced him back down before he could extend his arms.
“You survived an assassin’s attack and sounded the alarm — after working hard all day.” Noboro tousled Turesobei’s hair. “I would say you handled yourself well tonight.”
He squeezed Noboro’s hand. “Thank you, Father. I won't let you down.”
“Of course, you won't. You're a Chonda, and you’re my son.”
“You can only go on one condition, however,” Kahenan said. “You must first cast a few spells to my liking. This will be a simple test.”
His heart fell. His grandfather's tests were anything but simple. He would have liked to complain that testing him at this point wasn't fair, but he didn't have the strength for an argument. Besides, it wouldn't do any good.
“Can you stand?” Noboro said.
“I don't think so.”
Kahenan informed one of the guards to fetch a litter.
“I am going to stay two days longer than planned,” Noboro said, “so that you can rest and prepare.”
“I’m sorry you must wait for me.”
“Do not worry about it.”
The guard returned with two male servants and a litter.
“Take tomorrow off, Sobei,” Kahenan said. “But be here early the day after for your exam.”
“I will be on time,” he said, “and I will pass your tests.”
And then he could be free of wizardry and studies for a long while.
***
Except for a couple of small meals and assistance using his bedpan — helped by the house’s eldest male servant, thank the gods — Turesobei slept for thirty-six hours straight. When he awoke, he felt restored, though stiff and groggy. He sat up alone in his bedroom. He had hazy memories of Noboro, Wenari, and Kahenan having visited him.
Though he had no memory of it, his sister Enashoma had kept watch over him, protective as always. He knew she had because dozens of origami creatures lay scattered about the room, and he recalled dreaming about swarms of tiny creatures crawling and flying around him.
Folding paper into elaborate shapes was Enashoma’s special talent, taught to her by their grandmother, Kahenan’s wife, before she had died three years ago. By drawing onto the paper a few strange sigils using a magic brush that had been handed down for generations, Enashoma could animate her origami creatures. She claimed it was nothing more than a parlor trick, since the tiny paper creatures could only move around for a few minutes. But based on the way Kahenan praised Enashoma’s efforts, there had to be more to it. Although it could just be that it reminded him of his deceased wife.
As the sun rose, Turesobei did his morning stretches then rolled up his sleeping mat and blanket. After that he dressed and went to the kitchen, finding his mother there. She was wearing an elegant, cream-colored silk dress, and her hair was twisted around a wire frame with a curving wing on each side of her head. Though of average height, she seemed taller because of her forceful personality and her willowy frame.
She stood prim and proper and thoroughly in charge as she directed the staff. Her every word served either faint praise or harsh scolding — the latter far more often. She didn't have to direct the servants, they had all worked there for years and were well trained. She did so only because she enjoyed it.
He stepped forward cautiously. “Good morning, Mother.”
Wenari whipped around, and her face contorted into the deep, worried frown that he dreaded almost as much as her drunken scowls. When sober, everything worried her, at least everything that didn't annoy or offend her. He tried to pretend his mother wasn't as bad as his father made her out to be, but that was a difficult task.
Wenari rushed over and patted his head as if he were a small child. “Sweet Sobei, should you not rest a while longer?”
“I am fine, Mother. Besides, I have to pass some of Grandfather's tests before I can—”
“You cannot go,” she announced. “I forbid it.”
“What?!”
“You are too young, and this journey will be dangerous. Your father said so himself.”
“Did he change his mind about taking me?”
“No, but I make these decisions.” She grabbed his arm in a clawed grip. “Come, let us sit in the garden and talk. I'll have the servants bring you breakfast there.”
He allowed himself to be led along. The garden sounded pleasant, and his empty stomach was rumbling. While he had slept and recovered, they had only brought him fruit and water.
They entered a tiny gazebo overlooking a koi pond and knelt at a small table, facing each other. Her haughty expression said, “I am in charge here, and you will do as I say.”
He refused to let her push him around anymore. Throwing away tradition and decorum, he declared, “I'm going whether you like it or not, Mother.”
“Lord Kahenan told me you were becoming arrogant,” Wenari said icily. “I did not believe him, but I see it now.”
“It is not my intention to be rude, Mother. It’s just that this trip means a lot to me, and Grandfather said I could go.”
“Lord Kahenan is not in charge of you.”
“But Father said I could join him.”
“That man comes in for three days and thinks he can decide what's best for you? No, I do not think so.”
“He has that right, you know. By law.”
“Society may give him such rights, but I am in charge in this household. He forfeited the privilege of guiding you into adulthood long ago.”
“He could take the matter to the king.”
“You think Noboro cares that much? That he would go to that much trouble for you? Be honest with yourself, Sobei. He's only taking you because Lord Kahenan wants him to.”
He frowned and bit off his reply as he saw Imi and Shurada approaching. Shurada met his eyes. A smile started to form on her lips, then she suppressed it. Imi refrained from looking at him, either out of an abundance of caution or because she was mad at him. Did she know about Shurada visiting his room the other night?
The girls set the plates down, arranged the food, poured apple juice and water into the cups, then backed away.
“This is acceptable,” Wenari said with disdain. “You may go.”
“Thank you,” he added. “It looks delicious.”
The girls grinned slightly and bowed. His mother glowered at him. She didn't think servants should be treated politely. And she didn't like for him to converse with any of the zaboko.
The food did look delicious: poached eggs, pickled vegetables, rice, spinach, and strawberries. He dove in and ignored his mother for a while. Wenari merely picked at the berries.
“As for your insolence,” she proclaimed the moment he finished eating, “you are forgiven — this time.”
“You’re not going to punish me?” he muttered, mouth agape.
“When you started becoming more difficult than usual, Lord Kahenan said I should go easy on you. That it is natural for someone in your position — a teenager no less — to be this way.”
“I don’t get it,” he said daringly. “Why am I allowed to speak my mind where others cannot? No one else is allowed to behave the way I have behaved today. Enashoma certainly can't. You scold her for even the slightest offenses, and you never hesitate from striking her if you think she’s being insolent.”
“Enashoma simply cannot behave as you do. That is true.”
“Because I'm a wizard?”
“No,” she snapped. “It’s because—” She hesitated. “Yes, it's because you are a wizard.”
“You're lying. It's something else.”
“No. It is not. And if you have further questions about such matters, talk to your grandfather.”
Imi and Shurada returned and removed the empty plates. Then they brought out steaming cups of green tea.
He sipped his tea. “Mother, this means everything to me. Please let me go.”
“You are my only son. I will not lose you on some ridiculous expedition to only the gods know where. You have a place here. Stick to your destiny — here — and greatness will come to us all.”
“Please, Mother. What can I do to change your mind?”
“Nothing.”
“I have to grow up sometime.”
“Not yet.”
He sighed with frustration, held back a scream, and pleaded with her. “Can't you see that this may be my last chance to spend time with Father before I'm an adult? I never get to see him. I don't even really know him.”
“You are not missing anything, and it is not my fault.”
“Yes, it is,” he said. “At least partly.”
She winced then narrowed her eyes with anger.
“I want to spend some time with him for a while. And I will return. Plus, you've got Enashoma here to keep you company.”
She shook her head. “Sobei—”
He grabbed his hair and groaned. “You're being possessive and controlling. That's not fair to me.”
She drew herself up straight, clenched her jaws, and crinkled her nose up into her eyes. She said nothing, and after a moment, her expression softened, and she shook her head.
“I would let you go, Sobei. Truly. But I have a bad feeling about—”
He stood and interrupted her. She often used intuitions as excuses to make him and Enashoma do what she wanted. “I love you, Mother, but I'm going and that's all there is to it. I am the High Wizard’s heir. You cannot restrain me.”
He turned and headed back into the house to retrieve some of his things. He would sleep in the tower tonight.
“Turesobei!” she yelled. “You cannot go!”
He kept walking.
“If you go on this trip with your father, do not return here. You would no longer be welcome in this house.”
To Be Continued…