Brave Story

by Miyuki Miyabe

  Yet while they walked, stumbling through the magic woods, a great cyclone had suddenly appeared, and changed their situation considerably.

  “That cyclone swept up the entire forest down to the last tree. I thought it was heaven come to punish that evil place. I didn’t care to get blown away with those trees, though, so I dug us a hole and we hid.” Kee Keema flourished his long-clawed hands with pride. “Before we knew it, the trees were all bent over or gone entirely, the leaves were scattered, and the mist was gone from the starry sky. With all the trees cleared out, we could see the hospital quite clearly—except it didn’t look anything like it looked before. Where that big block of a building had stood was only an old ruin.”

  The cyclone, of course, had been Mitsuru’s work. The illusion of the hospital had been the work of the cultists.

  “Meena and I rushed to the hospital, but everything was a wreck, and there were wounded folk everywhere. When they saw us, some of them tried to run—like they were scared something fierce. I caught one of them, though, a fellow wearing an awfully fine-looking robe.”

  “You should’ve seen it,” said Meena, smiling, “Kee Keema snatched him up by his collar, like a baby kitkin!”

  She continued: “‘Who are you?’ he asked the man. ‘Were you the ones who fired poison arrows on us? Where did you take that boy?’”

  The man had told him everything, which is how they learned Wataru had been inside the hospital. They also learned that the cultists there were radical followers of the Old God.

  “When I asked him what had happened to the boy, he told me that the cyclone had picked you up and tossed you into the air—and as far as he knew, you’d never come back down.”

  The two had gone back to Sakawa to enlist the aid of the other waterkin in their search for Wataru. “I wasn’t sure how we’d find you,” said Kee Keema, “but I knew you’d turn up eventually. After all, you’re a Traveler under the protection of the Goddess herself. I figured no wind storm would do you in that easy.”

  “Your friend must be quite the sorcerer, Wataru,” Meena said, her tail twitching. “To conjure a cyclone like that—that’s wind magic of the highest degree. None but the greatest of mages can wield such power.”

  “What can I tell you? He’s a Traveler,” Kee Keema said proudly. “Strength and courage just like our boy here.” Wataru smiled, but the memory of a particular incident flashed across his mind, and his smile froze.

  He hadn’t told them what happened in the Swamp of Grief. How was he supposed to tell them? I killed someone. No, I killed two people. And the stone-baby pointed at me and called me a killer without blood or tears, and all I could do was run.

  No, it was an illusion. I had a nightmare brought on by the the swamp water. None of it really happened. If I went back to Tearsheaven now, I would see Lili Yannu knitting clothes by the edge of the lake. Satami would still be sad, Sara would still be waiting for her father to return, and Yacom would still be driving his cart and selling the black water.

  “Somethin’ wrong, Wataru?”

  “Huh? Oh, nothing.”

  “Well, we got a bit sidetracked, you might say, but now that the three of us are back together, it’s time to get looking for that second gemstone. I don’t think we need to rush right out though. We should relax a bit and enjoy the sea. This is a busy place, with lots of folks coming and going. We might hear something.”

  “The traveling waterkin will be our ears and eyes,” Meena said with a smile.

  “You know it! So, how do you like Sakawa, Wataru? Nice place, eh?”

  “It’s beautiful—and the food is great. And the people seem really nice and friendly. I guess I can’t complain.”

  “Sure can’t! The beauty of Sakawa and the bounty of the sea are both gifts from the Goddess herself. That’s why we work hard every day to repay her. None are harder working in the south than us waterkin, after all,” Kee Keema said, puffing out his chest.

  “I have to admit I’ve grown a little tired of hearing Kee Keema boast about his home,” Meena said, “but I can now see where it’s coming from.”

  Wataru watched the two smiling, yet he couldn’t feel at ease. He knew terrible news would be arriving soon—something that would wipe smiles off faces even here in carefree Sakawa.

  Had the United Southern Nations sent their karulakin messenger here yet? Was the word already spreading, carried on red wings to every part of the land? When would it reach them?

  When Wataru had first heard the story of the barrier and the sacrifices from Shin Suxin, it had frightened him, and seemed cruelly unfair. But now, sitting here with his friends, he felt something more than fear: he felt anger. What if Kee Keema or Meena were chosen? Wataru couldn’t stand by and let one of his friends be dragged away. Even if the one chosen said they would go willingly, Wataru couldn’t let it be.

  Still, he didn’t want to be the one to have to tell them. They would find out soon enough. He kept his mouth shut and listened to the sound of the waves rolling onto the shore.

  There was only one path to take. I have to get to the Tower of Destiny as soon as possible. I’ll meet the Goddess and ask her to stop the sacrifices. Who cares about some treaty with the Lord of the Underworld? Treaties are made to be broken. They can be rewritten and amended. She can say that it was wrong. If he begged, if he asked from the bottom of his heart, he was sure she would hear his plea. What kind of benevolent Goddess wouldn’t?

  That evening, all the waterkin in Sakawa gathered at the Elder’s pagoda. A great feast was planned in Wataru’s honor. Plates of food and jugs of wine were piled on the table. The dining hall was overflowing with villagers and many more were squeezed outside. Kee Keema had warned Wataru away from the wine—waterkin liquor was powerful stuff—though the older waterkin insisted there was no harm in a cup or two.

  The Elder of Sakawa was more than four hundred years old by Kee Keema’s account, but it was difficult to tell his age from his thick lizard-like scales and smooth skin. But his face did look quite dignified. It was the face of a leader.

  Everyone was full of questions for Wataru: about his journey, about the trials he had faced when he first arrived in Vision, about the real world. All the while, the Elder sat silently with a smile on his face. Wataru felt something in that warm, genteel gaze—like he was being tested or judged. He had the distinct impression that the Elder had a question for him too, but not the sort of question one asked at these types of affairs.

  Kee Keema also weathered an onslaught of inquiries about their adventures in the cave outside Gasara and the state of affairs in Lyris. He retold the story of their capture in the sula woods with much prancing about and exaggerated gesturing.

  Even Meena got into the act. Egged on by the crowd, she started to sing, and the level of excitement escalated even further. There was a thunderous storm of applause when she finished, and cries for one more song. She was happy to oblige.

  A great crowd formed a circle around her. There ensued much clapping of hands, stamping of feet, and dancing. Wataru was swept up with the crowd—grabbing on to hands and shoulders as the waterkin jumped in the air. It wasn’t long before the waterkin wine took effect. He started to swoon and thought he’d collapse on the floor before the song was finished.

  “You okay?”

  “Maybe not,” Wataru said. “I think I’ll go for a walk along the beach. Some fresh air will do me good.”

  Walking down the outside steps, Wataru had to step over clumps of waterkin drinking and laughing. Alone at last, he let himself relax and flopped down onto the sand.

  A soft sea wind brushed his cheeks. The night was anything but dark. Twinkling stars shone like silver sand spread on the deep navy blue cloth of the sky. Wataru enjoyed the feel of the sand beneath his fingertips and let the rhythm of the waves wash over him.

  Vision was beautiful. Lying back like this, the night sky seemed even closer than when he had been sitting up. He felt like he could reach out and touch the heavens. The lilting
sound of Meena singing reached his ears.

  It was a ballad—a beautiful thing, with a shifting melody. Her sweet voice trembled sorrowfully, matching the rhythm of the waves.

  So far away, the one I love.

  What sky are you under tonight?

  What wind will my song ride…

  To carry my voice to you?

  Tell me, winds,

  Where he may be.

  Tell me, winds,

  What star he looks upon.

  My ears are like two white seashells,

  Listening for dawn to come.

  It was a song about long-distance lovers. Or maybe it was a one-sided love. He closed his eyes and let his heart fill with happiness.

  “Wataru, you’re not sleeping, are you?”

  “Huh?!” he said jumping to his feet. “I haven’t heard from you since the hospital,”

  “No, no, we talked after that too. Have you forgotten? Remember when that meek little starseer saved you by the Swamp of Grief? I spoke to you in your dream, while you slept. Don’t you remember?”

  Wataru racked his foggy head, trying to remember. His memories were vague. He remembered Shin Suxin’s concerned look when his eyes first opened…

  “Tsk. I’m disappointed. But no matter. We’ve met again, after all,” the sweet voice said cheerfully.

  “I’m sorry, the poison from the swamp was making me hallucinate.”

  “Oh? You weren’t seeing things. Everything really happened.”

  Wataru froze. What? It wasn’t an illusion—a nightmare?

  “You…” he began.

  “It’s okay, what you did. Really. Forget that now. What you need to focus on is what you’re about to do.”

  “What I’m about to do?”

  “You plan to go to the Goddess and ask her to stop the sacrifices, no? Do you really think you can do that?”

  Wataru rubbed his eyes, and sat down on the sand. “How do you know that?”

  “Your thoughts are easy enough to read,” she said with a chuckle. “I’m worried, though. I don’t think you know what it is you’re trying to do. I don’t think you’re fully aware.”

  “Aware?”

  “Oh, to be sure, it’s your choice if you want to go meet the Goddess and ask her to stop the sacrifices. She grants a wish to every Traveler who reaches the Tower of Destiny on his own. That is how it has been for ages. But I think you’re forgetting something. The Goddess may grant each Traveler only one wish. You don’t get two or three. If you ask her to stop the sacrifices, what will happen to your own destiny? Isn’t that why you came to Vision in the first place, to change your own fate?”

  The sea breeze that blew gently through his hair suddenly turned cold. He could practically hear his body temperature drop.

  The Goddess grants only one wish.

  “I think you’ve remembered,” the sweet voice said, sounding satisfied. “You are too nice for your own good, Wataru. Who cares about the people here in Vision? You have to go back to the real world someday, and once you do you’ll never meet the people here again. What does it matter to you who’s chosen for the sacrifice?”

  Wataru wrapped his arms around his shoulders. It’s true. I forgot. I was having so much fun here in Vision, I forgot why I came in the first place.

  I forgot about my mother.

  “But, but I…” Wataru began, his voice choked. “How can I let the sacrifices continue if I have a choice?”

  “Even if it has nothing to do with you?”

  “It does have something to do with me!” he said, suddenly shouting. “I’ve been through a lot since I came here. I’ve seen a lot. Some things have been scary, and some cruel, but I’ve also met lots of kind, gentle people. They’re my friends! What goes on here in Vision does have something to do with me!”

  “More than your mother does?” the voice said, her words like tiny needles on Wataru’s skin. “You have a choice, but you can choose only one. What will you do? Can you just tell your mother sorry, you can’t help? Can you tell her to just accept her fate?”

  “I…”

  “Would you sacrifice your mother’s happiness for people you’ll never meet again in a world you’ll never visit twice? Would that make you happy? Would that make your mother happy? Would she be proud to have you as a son?”

  Wataru clapped his hands over his ears. “Stop! Don’t say those things.”

  “But you have to hear them,” the syrupy voice echoed in his mind just as loud as before. She sounded almost happy at the consternation she was causing Wataru. “You either choose Vision, or you choose your mother. Choose Vision, and you must go back home and apologize to your mother. I think I know what she’ll say. She’ll say she’s happy she raised you to be so kind, that you would help others before you help yourself. Of course, she’d be lying. You know how she really feels…”

  “Shut up!”

  The sweet voice continued: “Inside, she’ll be torn to pieces. All that time I spent raising you, oh, what a cold, cold son, she’ll say. Never thinking of his mother’s happiness, always wanting to please the crowd, and secretly never reaching out to the one who needs his help most—when it was so easy. He had a chance!”

  “I said shut up! My mom’s not like that! You’re wrong!”

  “Oh? Are you so sure? Your father just betrayed you, didn’t he? You didn’t think he was capable of doing that, and yet he did. Just. Like. That. You were discarded, Wataru. Tossed aside—baggage, unwanted litter. That’s how people are and your mother’s no different.”

  Wataru could no longer hear the whispering of the waves. That horrible sweet voice echoed in his ears, lodging itself in his head.

  “Think about it. You’re the same too,” the voice said. Wataru swore he could hear her grinning.

  “I’m the same?”

  “Yes. You came here to change your destiny, no? You wanted your father to abandon his lover, abandon the child she would bear for him, to come back to you and your mother.”

  That’s true. What he had done was wrong. Wataru just wanted to set it straight again.

  “But what about his lover then? Have you thought about her? Or the child? If you had your way, they’d be the ones abandoned. Or would you try to change things earlier, so she’d never met your father in the first place, perhaps? That still wouldn’t change how he felt. It wouldn’t fill that hole in his heart that cried out because he’d never met the one he truly loved. Would you ask him to make that sacrifice just so you and your mother could be happy? Would that be true happiness?”

  Wataru felt his strength—his will—draining into the sand on the beach. He couldn’t stand. He couldn’t even lift his head. It was all he could do to slouch there, pummeled by the sweet voice’s words over and over again.

  “You’re just as selfish as he is,” she said crisply.

  “So…what are you telling me to do then?” Wataru asked, his voice weak.

  “Ah hah! I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that. Destroy the Goddess. Then you can become Lord of Vision. I don’t know what foolishness Wayfinder Lau told you, but I know the truth. The real world and Vision are like two sides of the same coin. How else could the Goddess affect the destinies of people in your world, Wataru?”

  Two sides of the same coin.

  “You could go to the Goddess on bended knee and beg to change your little meaningless destiny…or you could grasp all of Vision and your world in your hands. All would bow to you, and do exactly as you say. If you told your father not to carry emptiness in his heart, he would not. He could not. If you told your mother to love you she would, dutifully. And if you told your father’s lover she wasn’t needed in the world, she would simply cease to be. If you said that her baby never existed, it never did. The whole world would change as you see fit, and you wouldn’t feel a shred of guilt. You will be enlightened.”

  The world would exist for you alone.

  “What happiness, what joy! What a beautiful way for the world to be. Don’t you think so
, Wataru?”

  For a moment there was silence—an utter absence of sound.

  Wataru slowly shook his head. “I won’t do it,” he whispered. “I won’t.” The trembling faded from his voice.

  I like Kee Keema and Meena because of who they are. Their kindness, their gentleness touches me—that’s why we’re friends.

  And Togoto—he carried me through the sky not because I willed him to do it but because he respected the station of a Highlander. And Kutz, when she followed me into Meena’s hospital room, she did it out of a sense of duty.

  Their actions have meaning because they act of their own free will. What would be the point if everything happened as I wished it? I don’t think that would be beautiful at all.

  “You’re wrong,” he said quietly. “What are you, really? Why are you telling me these things?”

  The whispering of the waves. More silence.

  “You really disappoint me, you know that?” the sweet voice answered in a low tone. “But, fine. Do whatever you like, my little goody-two-shoes Brave. You still have time to reconsider. I have a feeling you’ll end up following my advice.”

  “Never!”

  “Now you’re shouting. Here, let me tell you something. You’ve been duped, right from the very start.

  “That young starseer doesn’t know all there is to know about the Great Barrier of Light, or the sacrifice necessary to maintain it. In fact, he was unaware of the most important part. Not only him, but most of the people here in Vision don’t know.”

  “Don’t know what?!”

  “Not only one person is sacrificed,” the sweet voice said slowly. “To rebuild the Great Barrier requires two sacrifices: one from Vision, and another, a Traveler from the real world. Each of these…is called the Half.”

  Wataru had trouble understanding what he was hearing.

  “It’s like I said. Vision and the real world are two sides of the same coin. How could something as great and powerful as the Barrier be built from only one side? A sacrifice from the real world is necessary too.”

  Once every ten years, the Porta Nectere opens, and a lone Traveler comes from the real world burning with a passion to change their destiny.