T H E E A S T E R N L A N D S

Chapter 1

“...and with a blood stained maw the White Tiger slumped back into the darkness of the forest. Only the princess was allowed to leave alive, having been deemed worthy. No one since who has entered the forest has been allowed to leave. Proof that the White Tiger still protects the forest against any who means it harm.”

The narrator of the play finished, and the great fires on the stage were doused. The darkness of the dead of night took hold, emphasizing the solemnity of the words that still hung in the air.

It was not the first time that Yukina Ieda had seen the play in her many years in Nafuna, but it was likely the last. She couldn’t quite say why, but she could feel the way the winds were blowing. As others rose from the long curved benches of chiseled stone, she remained to let the tingling sensation brought on by the words of an old legend last but a little longer.

A small smile crept over her lips as she remembered how she had scorned these sorts of tales when she had been younger, and how when she had been younger still, she adored them. Such was the way of life. Everything in seasons. Now she was back where she had begun as a little girl, allowing herself the taste of the unknown. But instead of being inspired by it, ready to be the one to uncover these ancient mysteries, she now understood that a little mystery gives life meaning. She was happy to revel in it a little while longer.

“May I walk you back to the city, Ieda-hon?” a kind man’s voice offered. Ieda wasn’t startled by the sudden sound despite her attention being fixated on the wisps of smoke that had nearly vanished in the sky. “It is not wise for an elder to walk alone, especially in this chill. And it looks like rain is coming.”

Ieda smiled as she looked at the middle aged merchant sailor. His light goatee was hardly visible in the dark, but the familiar smell of the sea was on him. “Thank you, Katsumi. You are always so kind. But it is not necessary. I can make my way on my own. In truth, I’d like to sit here for a while longer.”

“But if something were to happen -”

“Katsumi, no one in Nafuna will do me any harm,” Ieda said to cut him off. “It is the safest place in all the Eastern Lands. And if life should run its course, then so be it.” Ieda smiled again and gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “You, on the other hand, should get going. You have a busy day tomorrow preparing for your voyage.”

“Of… of course, Ieda-hon,” Katsumi said with a bow. “I will be seeing you soon, then.” He left Ieda alone in the bowl of the theater. It was much larger than the one in Hamoni where she has spent most of her married life. It had been much more intimate, and… spiritual. You could feel the spirits around you as the play unfolded, bringing it to life in a way no other place could. But it was unlikely that the spirits still danced there. Not since the ancient shrines had been desecrated and she was forced to flee with her children.

It was nice enough here, though. The way the theater sat at the edge of the cliff and looked out to the sea was gorgeous and refreshing. Can spirits feel the wind? If so, she’d have to return here again when the time came. I could even come when the winds are strong. There would be no risk of falling off the edge.

Ieda drew back the strings of her hemp bag for a roll to ease her rumbling stomach. It was just in time as light rain started to fall. There is nothing worse than soggy bread. The nostalgic taste brought up flashes of her eldest child. When had Tanzin first created the recipe? That’s right… it was just after he had met the emperor for the first time. Eight, was it? I hope he’s not doing anything foolish back in Aino. Ieda’s brows twisted downward. A sadness set upon her thinking of her children. Her six had spread themselves across The Eastern Lands. Only two remained by her side. Of the others she could only hope to receive letters to catch a glimpse of the people they had become. Alas from two no letters had come in many years. The Yukina clan that had once been among the greatest of Aino was broken. But it was not the loss of trivial matters of power and prestige that crushed her heart. No family should be torn like this.

Small tears were allowed to flow from her eyes. I am too old to hold them back in pride. She wished she could see the shrine erected in her husband’s honor. His killers had burned down the first three attempts to build one as they held the land in their clutches, but she heard the townsfolk eventually finished it in one of the sacred caves around Hamoni in secret. The killers did not dare enter where Ha-Zentai was at her most powerful. Not after what they had done. Only the pure of heart could enter without being devoured whole by the spirits. The townsfolk must have been desperate to show their appreciation to even risk entering it themselves. Few were of pure enough of heart to enter and exit again unscathed.

Ieda remained in silence, focusing her attention on the whistle of the wind against the cliffs and the crashing of waves far below. The rain continued to massage her face, cleansing her of the tears that stopped flowing. Deep into the night she remained. If anyone had passed during this time they would have sworn she slept, yet she felt more connected to Ha-Zentai than ever. Each breath was a reminder of the connection she shared with everything around her. Everything was a set of actions and effects, and more actions. All twisting together in a way that only Ha-Zentai could tell. Of those who had ever walked the physical world, perhaps only the Immortals ever had an inkling of the intricacies of it all.

It was not until very late into the night, or perhaps early in the morning to some, that she was finally disturbed. To her, the faint footsteps were as thunder signaling his approach. Such was her attunement that night - or morning. She smiled, finding solace in her connection to Ha-Zentai in a way the mortal world could not provide. She wished she could experience the goddess as the immortals of old had, but such attunement had fallen into legend long ago.

“You have stayed all night out here, again, mother,” her youngest child, Yukina Kazuken, said. Though he is not really a child anymore, she had to admit.

“Is that a question or a statement? And if it is a statement, what of it? It has become so hard to tell your mind from your words,” Ieda replied without opening her eyes.

“Damnit mother, you are not invincible. You are not young anymore. One of these days you will die from the cold.”

Ieda opened her eyes to see her sweet son who had yet to learn many things. “It is better to die in the presence of Ha-Zentai than to slowly rot away. There is no sense hiding where she is dimmed.”

“The city is safe and warm,” Kazuken stated bluntly with tightened lips.

“The caves are dead and lifeless,” Ieda retorted. So many things to learn. “You need to relax, or those creases in your forehead will become permanent by the time you are my age. Everyone will see you as a big grump and avoid you.”

Kazuken’s face only tightened further. “At least I’ll be alive. You are such a hypocrite. The old have earned that right, but I am not going to let you die from your stubbornness. You can find Ha-Zentai perfectly fine in the temple.”

“My dear son. So right and wrong are you,” Ieda said with a twinge of sadness. How is it that he has become so like his father, yet in the most basic of things he is still confused. “It is true Ha-Zentai is in all things, but she only truly lives in the wind. The sky. The storm. In the stone she is, but stone is rigid and silent. In life she is, but life does as it will and she allows it to be. But in the wind... ah yes, the wind.” Ieda took a deep breath and raised her arms. “The wind is where she chooses to be free. It is where you can not only feel her, but also hear her desires. Listen carefully enough and you’ll know what could be.”

Her son sighed and finally the tenseness gripping his body loosed. “I will not debate you on the finer details of Ha-Zentai. But there must be a better way to be connected than coming out here for the entire night in the cold rain. Come, let us return to the city and eat, then you’ll rest.”

“Rest? Ptah. I’m going for a nice long walk,” Ieda said defiantly. “It looks like the sun will be coming up soon. Some of the shopkeepers are surely setting up their stalls in the market by now. We can get some food there and eat out in the hills, if you would like to join me”

“I don’t seem to have much of a choice,” Kazuken grumbled. Ieda smiled sadly. I can get you to do anything but the one thing that is most important.

The first hints of the sun were appearing by the time they reached the market, but it was not enough to bring out the bright colors of the stalls. Many had already been erected and had started offering their services while others were still going up. It was a harder life for shopkeepers in Nafuna than elsewhere. When the peninsula had been first colonized by Noma-Biruda, he built caves deep into the mountains to avoid the gales coming in from the sea that had thwarted previous effects to settle the area. But some time after he finished creating the city and left the colonists to their own devices they got greedy and attempted to build a market above ground. It failed time and time again as it was blown down by the merciless gales. Lifetimes ago the city stopped trying to have a permanent market. It was decreed that shopkeepers would erect their stalls every day, and remove them each night. The only permanent structures on the surface was the theater, and a handful of shelters for sheep, all made entirely of stone. Some had put forward the idea of making the market out of stone, but what was the point of making a stone building on the surface that blocks the fresh air and sky? If some stuffy structure was wanted, the caves would serve well enough.

“Mmm, that fish smells good!” Ieda proclaimed as they walked along the first paths. She loved the erratic nature of the market. There was no plan to it, and you never know what you might pass on any given day. Shopkeepers made it a point to wake up as early as possible to get prime locations. Those who slept in were far from the entrance of the city. Some chose not to bother setting up at all if they were late and instead simply enjoy the day. 

Then there were the merchants that came on the ships from distant lands. It was always easy to tell which had come before and which were new. Those who were new were always scrambling, too late, to find a spot to set up shop. If they didn’t have a smell to attract people, most never knew that they had come at all. Some traders choose to stay on their ships, but only those who were well known could afford to do such a thing. Nafunians typically avoided buying at the docks. There was only so much space in the sheltered bay, and it was often filled by those doing necessary activities for the functioning of the city.

“Is the fish freshly caught?” Kazuken asked.

The shopkeep, Shino, stared at him blankly. “What do you take me for? Of course it was all caught this morning.”

“We’ll take two cooked cod with rice, wrapped, if you will,” replied Kazuken.

“Not staying?” Shino asked with a raised brow while throwing the fish on a pan above a fire. “Katsumi-hon tells me you’re going with him on his voyage north, Ieda-hon. Not sure how wise it is, but I’m sure you best me in that regard. I’m happy for you. Everyone should get a chance to visit the place of their birth again after leaving it. Especially if they have been gone as long as you have. How long has it been?”

“Fifty seven years,” Ieda replied with a wistful sigh, ignoring the daggers coming from the eyes of her son.

Shino flipped the fish, producing the most lovely smell. “Whew, that is a long time. I must say, it will be sad seeing you go. You might not be from around here, but no one knows more about Ha-Zentai and the spirits than you. Have you been preparing your son here to fill your place in the temple?”

Ieda considered her words carefully before replying. “He has been well prepared to follow whichever path he chooses.”

“What path will that be, I wonder?” said Shino, giving Kazuken a sideways glance.

“I don’t know that he has made up his mind on that point, yet.” Ieda gave her son a quick pat and rub on the back. “Don’t press him too much, though. This one’s eyes say he is still half asleep.”

“Ha! Well, I’m sure a taste of these fish will wake him right up! Nothing like fresh cod to give a kick. I wish you the best morning. Glad you’re up and about to cherish your last day, and a fine day it looks to be!”

“My, what a beautiful sunrise,” Ieda exclaimed, seeing the sun poking over the sea. The sparse fluffy clouds were illuminated with a fine orange glow.

The sounds of the market grew as the morning wore on, but faded again as they got deeper into the rolling hills away from the city. Ieda was not concerned by her son’s silence as they walked. He was a thoughtful young man and would speak when he was ready. Not a single tree grew from the vibrant grass that flocks of sheep picked at. There was a certain paranoia that if any tree appeared that it could be the spirits of Orudo had found a way under the Wall of Biruda that held them back from the peninsula.

The forest had once spread across most of the Eastern Lands, tended to by the monken. It was unclear whether the monken woke the spirits of the forest, or if the spirits were a product of Ha-Zentai, but together they spread the forest too far, stifling the rest of the world. In her wisdom, Ha-Zentai brought forth the yetis to push the forest back. It was said that what remains of the spirits, and the monken if they haven’t passed wholly into legend, is hatred of all outsiders and they wait for the day when they might expand the forest once again.

Ieda didn’t quite believe that the spirits of Orudo that remained were wholly evil or hateful. The play had spoken truthfully in that none who entered the forest had been seen alive again, but there was no telling if they had lit a fire or had done something else to anger the spirits. Part of her longed to have it be the last mystery for her to unravel in her long life. Another part of her thought it best for the mystery to remain. Some mysteries are better than knowledge.

The sun was well in the sky, yet not quite midday, when the great Wall of Biruda came into sight. Its smoothness was unlike anything else that could be found in the world. Even after centuries, not a single blemish could be found on its face. Such was the power of the ancient immortals in Ha-Zentai, a power that was long lost. A tinge of sadness flowed through her at the thought of all that had been lost across the ages, but it was quickly chased away at the rumble of her stomach. “Let’s eat.”

Kazuken unwrapped the rice and cooked fish that had lost some of its smell, but it would do well to quench their hunger. They ate in silence on the ground, though some faint sounds of the forest came over the wall. Birds chirping. Trees blowing in the wind. An odd roar. Ieda was thankful for the rest, though she would not admit it with voice or sign. She needed her son to see her strength and resolve just then.

“Why are you doing this?” Kazuken finally asked plainly.

“That is a fair question,” Ieda replied. “Tell me about our family.”

“We are the Yukinas,” he replied cautiously. “An old clan that was once among the most powerful and respected in Aino, and perhaps the world. We protected the ancient shrines and provided thousand year old teachings about Ha-Zentai for all those who would come.”

“That is all true,” Ieda agreed, “though I would note that is only of your father’s side,” she added. “But that does not answer the questions. Tell me about our family.”

Kazuken stared at her blankly. “I do not understand.”

“You know well of Fureya’s husband and children here in Nafuna, but what of Tanzin? How does he fare in the emperor’s service? How does Marusa fare in the courts of Odicia? Have they found love? Had children? Do they even live? Where are Kilo and Toru in the north? Have they adapted to Nuwhilian life? Have they found their way with the tribes? When was the last time you have spoken to any of them?

“Long enough,” he conceded. “What does this have to do with anything?”

“How long?”

“Seven years? Maybe eight?”

“You are almost twenty five. You have not spoken to most of your family for a third of your life,” Ieda stated bluntly. “We are a broken family. Not because we had to flee our homes, but because we do not see one another. We do not speak with one another. We do not know one another.”

“You have sent letters to them for years. I know that you received a letter from Tanzin just a few days past,” replied Kazuken earnestly. “The world is large. You cannot expect a family that has traveled so far and found our way in different corners of the world to be as close as those who stay in the same town for generations. We are not as we were. Do not be reckless over dreams.”

“You are not a mother,” Ieda snapped, stronger than she had intended. “I write to my children, but my children do not write to one another,” she continued, softer. “Do not deny this. I have heard of this from each of you, letter by letter. Of Kilo and Toru even I have difficulty writing. Parchment and ink are luxuries in the far north that they cannot readily get a hold of, and there are far fewer messengers to deliver letters than in Aino or Odicia. The cold wastes are not conducive to communication.

“There are still deep wounds in this family over what happened. What you call finding your way in different corners of the world, I call running away. Of all my children, it is only Fureya that I can confidently say has been able to move on and find a life. Rebuilding this family is the first step for the rest of you to truly find your paths. This is something I must do, or my spirit will never be at peace with Ha-Zentai when my time comes.”

“I cannot condone what you are trying to do,” said Kazuken, looking her in the eyes. “A journey north is not something a person of your age should be doing,” he sighed. “But I can tell that this is something you feel you must do, so I will accompany you. We will find Kilo and Toru together, and then I will continue on to Odicia and Aino with you if that is what it takes for you to be satisfied.”

“Thank you for understanding, dear.” May Ha-Zentai most of all see fit to make this journey help you move forward.