Shidai

By Melissa Eury

Kuu and the four sisters, the last of the Shidai try and find their place in a world that has turned their back on them. Kuu, heir to the throne of the lands of the West, must war within to decide to follow the enigmatic sisters or his fathers plan to place him on the throne of the Emperor. Seiryu, youngest twin of the four sisters, fighting to break through the walls she built about herself must decide between love and family. Suzaku, oldest twin of the four sisters, struggles to keep her innocence in a changing world. Byakko, second oldest of the sisters, struggles to keep her family together while longing to find herself. Genbu, the eldest of the sisters, struggles to understand her place in the world and find happiness in her role as the familys head. Chaos threatens the balance of the world, seeking to destroy the sisters and any that are assisting them in their quest. Torn from a loving family by the threats of war, the whispers of destruction, the Shidai sisters are hurled into the unforgiving, unfamiliar world where they are both revered and reviled. Traveling to keep the hounds of the Generals from discovering their location, the sisters find comfort within each other. Finding themselves trapped, captured, they must find each other and decide whether or not to fight for a world of people who offered them nothing but a cold shoulder. Ghosts of memories of the past haunt them, mysteries of the people of the world intrigue them, voices in their head confuse them between a world long past and a hint of a future yet to be.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 25, 2010
• ISBN: 9781450074940

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Copyright © 2010 by Melissa Eury.

Library of Congress Control Number:       2010904646

ISBN:         Hardcover                               978-1-4500-7493-3

                   Softcover                                 978-1-4500-7492-6

                   Ebook                                      978-1-4500-7494-0

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

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Suzaku opened her eyes, seeing the dark blue, almost black of the deep sea. She exhaled, watching the bubbles as they floated upward, somewhere beyond her sight. The heavy chains on her ankles and wrists drag her farther, deeper.

Would it end soon? she found herself wondering, the chill of the water sinking in deep, penetrating to the bone, causing her to shiver.

Suzaku felt the cease in the drifting rather than feeling any contact with the bottom of her prison. She looked up, seeing only impenetrable blackness. A red light flared, surrounding her. Suddenly, with the light, came air and mild warmth.

She closed her eyes, accepting the fast approaching sleep. Are they okay? she wondered, feeling the blanketing calm of sleep settle over her, tucking around her, allowing her to drift off.

~~~

Genbu marched through the steadily warmer palace halls, escorted by six guards. Her hands were bound and held tightly behind her back. No one lined the halls, no audience to this precession. Symbols of dragons lined the halls on the purple fabric covered walls. The hallway was carpeted with red fabric, soft, cushioning the footfalls of her bare feet.

She failed her mother; she had not kept her final promise to her. She felt the moisture of tears as they slid down her cheeks.

Genbu slowed, sensing now their final destination. A hand pressed in the middle of her back, pushing her onward. She stumbled, caught by the hand holding the rope securing her wrists.

Please do not do this . . . , she whispered.

Her plea fell on deaf ears. The guards leading the procession opened the dark red doors at the end of the hall.

The heat behind the doors was visible in waves as it entered the much cooler hall. Sweat slid down Genbu’s face and back. She swallowed hard as she was pushed over the threshold of the doorway. Her feet burned as they encountered the rock on the other side of the door.

She pushed backward against her captors. She threw herself against the hand directing her. Genbu fell backward, hitting the ground hard; the heat of the stone burned into her back. Four of the guards picked her up and carried her kicking, squirming, fighting onward.

She felt them stop moving, felt them lowering her. She was pushed to her knees, the coarseness of the rock breaking the skin of her knees; she felt the heat of the stone as it burned into the cuts. She fought, trying to move back from the edge of the precipice, knowing, seeing what lay in wait for her should they complete their mission.

Please spare us. Don’t do this . . . , she asked once more.

Genbu felt the bottom of a foot between her shoulder blades, the pressure and the lightness in her stomach as the full feeling of free-falling overcame her. She sped toward the volcano’s center, a speck of red in the distance. She felt the rising heat encompassing her, pressing against her, driving the air from her lungs; the presence of sulfur burned her nose and stung her eyes.

As the heat grew to be unbearable, a blue light flashed around her. Genbu relaxed, feeling the safety of the sphere. Steam billowed forth as she impacted the magma. The bubble drifted, until it encountered a wall. Steam blocked any further vision, the sound eventually relaxing her to sleep.

~~~

Seiryu whimpered as the door to her cell opened. She backed into the wall behind her, hoping to blend into the shadows, following it into the corner as six guards entered. She felt the tears threatening to spill down her face as one reached down, securing the shackles about her wrists, hauling her to her feet. She stumbled against the ankle shackles as they pulled her from the darkness of her prison.

Seiryu blinked rapidly in the sudden light. Windows lined the walls on her left, sunlight streaming in. The glass that covered them was waved in such a way that it permitted light, but not the unwanted eyes of others. The walls were covered in a light blue fabric, the floors with marble tiles of purple and black. The halls and doors on the right side were closed, save one. A little boy stood in the doorway, looking out, watching the precession. He looked up at her as she approached, a shock of blond hair on his head, his green eyes locking on her own hazel ones.

Who is this? he asked. The guards stopped. The two guards leading knelt before the boy. The two at Seiryu’s side pushed her face-first into the floor. Why would you treat a lady so? he demanded.

My lord, she has been condemned for acts of treason and sentenced to life imprisonment, one of the guards spoke up.

She has? How so? She’s so young! he remarked.

I have done no—, Seiryu growled defensively, looking up at the boy. She was cut off by blows to the ribs from the guards.

Do not attempt to diminish the purity of the lord with your lies and evil, witch! one snapped. Seiryu slumped forward, coughing.

She is a girl, be easy on her! the boy ordered.

My lord is too magnanimous. Do not extend your sympathies to one such as her. We must be on our way, Great One, the guard stated.

Yes, yes, of course. Take your leave. The boy waved dismissively and turned away.

Seiryu was jerked to her feet, causing her blue hair to flow over her shoulders and into her face, covering her sight, hiding the world behind a curtain of blue. The last she saw of the boy before she was spun around and shoved forward was the boy regarding her with a head tilted, a look of wonder and interest in his eyes.

My pleasure . . . , she whispered, leaving the words to hang in the air. Her bare feet made slapping sounds as they touched the cool, unforgiving marble.

The guards led her upward, through winding staircases of pitch dark, utter blackness; she stumbled, and she found the guards had little patience and dragged her up the stairs. The stairs scratched and bruised her as the guards simply pulled her up them. When they emerged again into the light, she stood at the castle’s highest point. She looked around confused, slowly, tenderly picking herself up and regaining her feet, facing the door they’d emerged from.

In our castle is a vortex of whirling air. The entrance is the hole behind you, a guard stated.

With a shove, Seiryu found the hole. She fell, the whirling air tearing at the light shift she’d been permitted to wear. She coughed, struggling to breathe. Her hair flew up, dancing around her head, a blue fire.

As her vision darkened from lack of oxygen, the loudness of the whirling air dampened as she drew nearer to unconsciousness. Before it claimed her completely, she was surrounded by a green light.

~~~

Lady Byakko, you are hereby sentenced to life imprisonment. Have you any questions of the court? a voice intoned in the heavy blackness surrounding Byakko.

What of my sisters? she asked, breathing deeply, feeling the hitch in her side. What happened . . . ? Where was she . . . ?

They are imprisoned as well, in a place that they can cause the least amount of harm, the voice stated, the deep richness echoing off the walls.

I see. I am not leaving this place, Byakko commented, sensing her location.

There is nothing you can do that will endanger anyone here, the voice acknowledged.

Byakko remained quiet, eventually hearing the sound of a door closing, the hinges screaming in the darkness, echoing for a time. A soft dripping sound could be heard, marking the moving of time’s march onward, leaving her behind.

Byakko sighed, searching within herself for her protection. She sighed with relief as white surrounded her. Loosening her hold on reality, she slipped into her trance, into an empty oblivion beyond her prison.

***Seven Years Later***

I slowly opened my eyes. A light breeze shifted the white filmy curtains inward, the bottom billowing to let the air in. I lifted my right hand, holding it out, examining my arm. Nothing there, no symbols. I felt the frown form; that dream . . . I tried to capture the vestiges of it before it faded completely. I let my arm drop, feeling the softness of the sheets and the mattress. I stared at the rafters in the ceiling, seeing the dust drifting in the rays of sunlight coming through the window. We missed spring cleaning last year; it was almost time for the next one. I would have to remember the rafters. I took a deep breath. Wait . . . what was burning?

Suzaku? I called, sitting up. I climbed out of bed, shivering slightly in the sudden chill of the room. My long sleep shirt came to my knees, but the lack of pants of any sort did nothing to stave off the effects of the cold air.

Suzaku! I called again, slipping the calfskin slippers, savoring the softness, the sudden feeling of warmth.

The smell of smoke grew stronger. I slid the door open, rewarded by a cloud of smoke billowing into my room and my face. I coughed but moved into the hall, ducking under the cloud that snaked along the ceiling, seeking escape. SUZAKU! I screamed, running down the hallway, following the smoke toward the origin.

I heard a small cough. I felt the presence in the kitchen. Genbu? a small voice whispered, followed by more coughing.

Suzaku? Are you okay? I wondered, entering the kitchen. I knew my way through it. I could picture the room in my mind and navigate without having to subject my eyes to the clouds of smoke. I reached the stove and felt around, sensing the lack of water and the dryness of the smoke. I found the pots and pans, their handles. Grabbing them, I removed them from the stove, placing them on the counter, hoping the mats were there as they should have been. This would stop the continuation of the smoke. I opened the windows before encountering Suzaku by the door.

Genbu, I didn’t mean to. She coughed. The smoke began to clear. I knelt next to her, holding her in my arms, resting my chin atop her head.

Suzaku, what were you doing? I asked, finally being able to look around to survey the damage. Dirty dishes were all over the counters and some on the floor. Smoke stained the walls, now covered with random scorch marks.

Happy Birthday, Genbu, Suzaku said, shifting to smile up at me. I looked into her dark blue eyes. Her long hair was full of flour and bits of dough. It was no longer its usual red, but pink. Strands had escaped her braid and stuck out at odd and random points and angles. She looked like a pink porcupine. I looked at her usually deep red top, now pink from the flour, a heavily embroidered top of Chinese origin. It fit loosely about her, tied in place with string clasps on the shoulder. The shirt was long enough that it covered her butt. Her pants were white, puffy, and free flowing, closing about her ankles.

You are a mess! Did the bag explode on you? I laughed.

The bag . . . ? she wondered. I shook my head.

Never mind. Thank you, Dearheart. I smiled.

I ruined it, didn’t I? she muttered, looking around at the kitchen.

Ruined what? I wondered.

I was trying to make breakfast and your cake . . . Suzaku sighed, rising to her feet.

And then . . . ? I prompted, following her lead, tucking a stray strand of black hair behind my ear.

Well, everything started happening at once. I couldn’t keep up. And then . . . I didn’t mean to, honestly! Suzaku protested.

It is quite all right, Dearheart. I laughed. Where are the others? Why aren’t they helping?

They didn’t say. Seiryu said that I would tell you. She stuck her tongue out at me. They left though . . . I knew you’d be hungry, Suzaku answered, her face scrunching into a pout.

That wasn’t very nice of them. I surveyed the damage to my previously pristine kitchen. If you help me clean up, I’ll help you with the preparations, I offered with a wink.

Suzaku nodded enthusiastically. Deal!

Suzaku probably botched it, Seiryu stated.

I turned to look at her. She walked slightly behind me, her hazel eyes darting back and forth as she surveyed the people, their actions, their reactions to our presence. Perhaps I had erred when I thought to come here. We had barely moved in last year; these people did not like us because of the obvious difference in us. We were different even down to our clothing. We were new to this place, this country, new to their world.

I shook the thoughts and memories from the front of my mind. Seiryu needed me to remain here in the present with her. I slowed, took a deep breath, and settled my thoughts. The mingled scent of unwashed bodies and baking bread, icing and sweetness, and roasting meat assaulted my nose. I held my breath, trying to calm myself.

Let’s stop by the shop for sweets before returning. I smiled down at Seiryu.

I am beginning to doubt there will be a house to return to, Seiryu grumbled. I couldn’t help but smile.

Byakko, aren’t you worried about them? Seiryu asked as we entered the bakery.

No, Genbu is there with Suzaku . . . oh . . . asleep . . . , I realized. We will make this a quick trip, I stated, examining the shelves of bread, cupcakes, cookies, rolls. I breathed in deep, the air in here smelling far better than the outside, no pollution from people, just fresh baked bread. Grab a basket please, Seiryu, I whispered, enjoying the temporary calm.

We walked through the store, surveying the bounty on the shelves. I picked up the freshest loaves, rolls, cookies, and a cake. The store began to fill with customers now finished with their worship, their scents contaminating the air. Whispers abound, growing louder.

Byakko . . . , Seiryu whispered, pulling on the hem of my black kimono’s sleeve. I looked down at her. Her eyes darted around; she stepped even closer to me. Why do they fear us? she asked.

Time stopped. The whispering ceased. All eyes fixed on my sister and me. The air itself seemed to depart the tiny bakery. I walked slowly toward the counter. We needed to pay and leave. Too many eyes, too many smells . . . too much . . .

Byakko . . . , Seiryu said, her voice seeming even louder in the pointed silence of the room.

Seiryu, I whispered; I didn’t continue beyond that. She would know what that meant. I placed the required money on the counter and pushed my way to the door.

Even the air outside of the bakery was stifling, the smells in the air overpowering. I grabbed the hand Seiryu had secured my sleeve with and rushed down the road out of town, the buildings blurring past as I focused on my destination.

I slowed when the road opened up. I sat down in the grass, lying back. I took a deep breath—clear air, warming earth, trees, grass, the faint scent of the flowers desperate to bloom, to grow, the crispness of an ever-encroaching spring.

Byakko . . . ? Seiryu’s voice wondered, pulling me back to reality.

Seiryu, let’s go home. I smiled, picking myself up and dusting off my kimono.

Genbu! That’s amazing! I grinned, watching as she seemed to materialize at each pot, pan, and countertop to prepare the meal. It was an elegant dance. I watched, the hem of her skirt fluttering about her knees as she moved. Her gown was always so white, a crisp yet soft color of the snow-blanketed wild. She wore a sweater over the top of her dress. It was white too, but the sweater was hairy, not so in a coarse way, but like that of an animal’s fur coat.

I have been doing this for a while. It isn’t something I mastered overnight. Trust me. there were a number of burned or half-cooked items. She smiled, tasting the batter she was stirring. Needs a little more sugar, she muttered before turning the bacon, attending the porridge, flipping the hotcakes, stirring the eggs, and testing the temperature of the oven.

Can you teach me . . . ? I asked, marveling at her efficiency.

It isn’t something learned overnight, Dearheart. She laughed lightly, her voice sounding like little bells. I bet angels received their wings every time she did so . . . I sighed. But if you are willing to practice, we can work on it together . . . , she offered, fixing her silvery gray eyes on mine.

I think I’d like that . . . I smiled back.

Suzaku, why don’t you wash up for breakfast and set the table? Genbu requested. I nodded, hurrying outside to wash the bits out of my hair and from my arms.

It took forever to get the varying clumps of dough and bits of flour out of my hair. I tied it back in its usual braid. I hurried back inside. The whole of the house smelled like breakfast. I could almost taste the meal—the bacon, eggs, hotcakes, porridge, everything.

Genbu, it smells WONDERFUL! I exclaimed; I hardly knew whether or not I walked into the kitchen or was carried there by the glorious scents issuing forth.

Thank you, Dearheart. You are looking more like yourself. Genbu smiled. Seiryu and Byakko are almost home, will you set the table?

I ran toward the house as soon as it came into view, the guardians over the path staring down at me watchfully, as if they worried I might trip and fall on these stairs. My hand still gripped Byakko’s as I hurried, dragging her after me.

Patience, Seiryu! she grumbled.

She was always overcautious. I slid the door open, hearing it thunk against the end of the door’s hidden frame.

We’re home! I called, staring up at Genbu and watching Suzaku juggle the quantity of plates and bowls as she tried to get to the table before dropping them.

Welcome home, Seiryu. Genbu smiled. I couldn’t help smiling in response; I always felt safe here, especially with Genbu, more so than with my other sisters.

Something smells good. Byakko grinned, following Seiryu through the doorway. You weren’t supposed to cook on your birthday, she stated. I watched the glance she and Genbu shared. They were hiding something again.

Yay! They’re home! Suzaku yelled, getting the dishes to the table safely and setting the last one in place. She ran into the kitchen.

You botched it. I grinned, glad to have been right as usual.

You were being scolded . . . , she countered, sticking her tongue out.

You blew up the kitchen again . . . I smirked, not lowering myself to childish reactions of extending my tongue.

GIRLS! Byakko and Genbu growled in unison. Suzaku and I stood, next to each other, heads down. We both were in trouble now.

Let’s eat before the meal gets cold. Genbu sighed. I heard her soft footfall before I looked up.

I’m sorry, Byakko, I whispered, sliding the door closed behind me.

Let’s just go eat, Seiryu. Genbu worked hard for the meal, Byakko stated, taking the basket from me. I could sense the disapproval and disappointment flowing off her in waves.

Genbu! I want to sit next to you! Suzaku called, running after Genbu. Byakko slowly trailed after her. Taking a deep breath, I headed into the dining room with the rest of my family.

We are the Four, we stand ready, the voices stated in unison, echoing in the vast expanse of blackness.

Genbu, the Black Tortoise stands in the north. I guard, protected by water, powered by the chill of winter, the voice came from somewhere in front of me. I tried to call out, tried to inquire, but no sound came from my throat.

Suzaku, the Vermillion Bird stands in the south. I guard, protected by fire, powered by the heat of summer, another voice stated from behind me.

Seiryu, the Azure Dragon stands in the east. I guard, protected by earth, powered by the growth of spring. This voice, so familiar, was to my right.

Byakko, the White Tiger stands in the west. I guard, protected by wind, powered by the change of fall, another said, the voice coming from my left.

The pulse of energy grew, a palpable thrum in the air, a taste, a smell, a light. The hairs on my arms were standing on end.

The light filled the area, except the center created by the positions already taken up. I looked around, viewing each of the women.

Genbu had black hair; it must have been short due to the length of the ponytail she wore. She wore a dress of some variety, white as snow, the hem at her knees. The top was hidden under a sweater. The sweater dissolved before my eyes. The top of the dress was very revealing. She displayed cleavage, two straps on her shoulders about an inch wide. A mark was on her right arm, a snake crawling up from her wrist where a tortoise was visible.

I whirled around, seeing Suzaku. Her bright red hair glowed, as if a fire was somehow harnessed. It was tied in a braid, now hanging over her shoulder to her waist. Her deep red top was a heavily embroidered top of Chinese origin. It fit loosely about her, tied in place with string clasps on the shoulder. The shirt was long enough that it covered her butt. Her pants were white, puffy, and free flowing, closing about her ankles. I looked away, blushing, as her pants dissolved. I risked a glance back. Her shirt covered anything potentially embarrassing for both of us. Climbing up her left leg was a phoenix, wings outstretched, blazing red, lifelike.

I turned left—Seiryu! I knew her!

Kuu opened his eyes. The picture of the gryphon carved and outlined with gold, silver, marble, and priceless gems hung ominously over him, the deep eyes seeming to be regarding him as he lay there studying it. With a growl, he rolled out of bed, ignoring the cold of the floor as he set his feet upon it. He walked from his bed chamber. The marble tiles of the hall, purple and black, were even colder than those within his room.

He hurried down the hall. Where had they taken her? All those years ago, where? He’d been in his room and heard no door opening and closing.

Sire! You are up early! Shall we summon the slaves to change you from your clothing of slumber? a guard greeted him, dropping to a knee and avoiding Kuu’s eyes.

How long have you served here? Kuu inquired, stopping his pursuit of the ghost of his past.

I have witnessed the transformation of you from infant to young man, sire, the guard stated. Kuu rolled his eyes.

A girl was brought here a number of years ago . . . , Kuu began.

Many have come and gone, sire . . . , the guard began.

Silence! Kuu bellow, his voice echoing in the emptiness of the hall. This girl was different. She walked this hall just once, escorted by six, Kuu finished.

Sire . . . ?

I stopped them along their progression a number of years ago, they led her somewhere. She was sentenced to life imprisonment.

Prisoners are kept in the dungeon, sire. They would not walk down the Holy Hall! the guard protested.

Are you calling me a liar? Kuu wondered, his voice dangerously low, his right eyebrow raising slightly, warning.

Never, sire. I just . . . I do not know anything about it, sire. I apologize, the guard whispered, dropping his other knee and bowing so low his forehead encountered the floor, groveling, seeking his life be spared for any transgression whether real or perceived.

Kuu walked on, ignoring the groveling guard. He knew she had to be in the castle somewhere. She came through this hall. He remembered. He could ask his father at breakfast, but it was doubtful the old man would be any help at all. His father had never mentioned anything leading up to her arrest. The young girl . . . her eyes . . . they seemed to see past him and yet laid him bare with the one glance.

Come to me! Child of the Wood! a voice called to me.

Leave me be. My dreams. My sisters . . . , I whispered, turning away from the source.

The Wheels of Fate have begun to turn. A chain of events starting to unfold. The time for you and your sisters is here at last, the voice went on.

I don’t believe in Fate, I growled, freeing myself from the pseudoreality to drift with my dreams once again.

~

Hide-and-seek. I’ll count, Suzaku stated.

I don’t like that game. I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest and looking away toward the forest.

Because you are bad at it, Suzaku countered.

Am not.

Are too.

Am not!

Are too.

FINE! I’ll prove it to you. Count to one hundred, I snapped, stamping my foot.

One . . . two . . . three . . . , Suzaku began, resting on the tree, covering her eyes with an arm.

I smiled. I wondered if she could count that high. I tiptoed off, being sure to avoid any twigs or branches. I snuck into the woods and then broke into a run. I ducked under a tree’s roots. I took a deep breath, breathing in the scent of the wood, the ancient power and history of the tree. I could see the history of the tree, starting from a seedling. I took another deep breath, letting the history play in my mind as I drifted toward sleep.

The tree bloomed huge in my mind; it was growing restless, eager for spring. Child of the Wood, you are in danger. Wake and run, a voice echoed in my mind. It sounded old and yet feminine.

I opened my eyes. How long had I slept? I heard shuffling coming from outside my hiding spot—someone or something stumbling around the forest.

Seiryu! Suzaku called, her voice faint from the distance and the muffling effects of the trees.

If she was so far away, who was outside? The voice told me to run. Surely the voice’s owner did not mean through the growing numbers outside.

I closed my eyes, feeling the power of the forest, the plant life surrounding me. Please show me, I whispered. In my mind a picture formed—the woods outside. Cutting through the various branches, an army made its way toward my home. Most began forming a temporary camp outside my hiding spot. They broke out food, a lunch break. How unfortunate it had to be here of all places.

I shifted, attempting to get mildly more comfortable.

Kuu! a voice yelled.

Was someone lost? Wandered away from the rest of the army? How could they keep track? Crowds had no definition, just a sea of faces, a mass of emotion of the basest sort.

I heard the sound of someone at the entrance to my hiding spot. A head poked in. We stared at each other momentarily. He cocked his head to one side. Your eyes are glowing, he stated.

I blinked several times, shocked by his appearance and his lack of fear. Who are you . . . ? I wondered.

He was pulled away from the entrance by some unseen force. This spelled out trouble. A shadowy face appeared in the hole. I felt the hands as they pulled at my feet, dragging me out into the clearing.

I looked around at the army as they did the same for me.

Do you suppose she is one of the girls? one inquired.

Your eyes aren’t glowing anymore . . . , the boy stated, cocking his head to the side. His hair caught the rays of sunlight that made it through the growing canopy of leaves, a patch of the purest gold.

Bind her, a voice ordered. The soldiers parted to admit a man, a band of gold upon his brow. He was robed in purple—royalty. I was pushed face-first into the dirt. They grabbed my arms, yanking them behind my back. I felt the rope binding them tightly together. I was hauled to my feet. I was right . . . I was going to win this game of hide-and-seek.

Byakko and I watched Seiryu and Suzaku out in the front yard. They discussed something, argued, then agreed on a game. Always at war those two. I smiled, shaking my head.

Something is in the air. I smell their approach, Byakko stated. I didn’t stop watching the twins. Suzaku leaned against the old weeping willow in the front yard.

War or an army? I asked, watching Seiryu tiptoe away from Suzaku.

An army. I can taste the metal in the air. The tang of pollution from the cities, Byakko answered.

I didn’t think they would find us this quickly, I whispered. The sadness inside seeped into my smile. I just want them to live a safe and normal life.

The people in town do not trust us. They fear us. They will not accept us, Byakko stated.

I had a dream, I stated, turning from the window as Seiryu entered the woods. A change is steadily approaching. Something different than before. I do not understand the meaning of it as of yet.

A dream . . . ? Byakko echoed.

We stood in a circle. We prepared for a magical ritual, a summoning of a sort. In the center our powers joined, but created a void. We were ourselves . . . but different, I explained, the dream replaying in my head, the