by C. J. Anaya
I placed my hands on either side of the young man’s head and closed my eyes, connecting with his ki immediately. The wound in his chest would be easy enough to repair. I sent images and instructions to his spirit to teach it how to accomplish such a feat in such a rapid amount of time.
Any other injuries present were in no way life-threatening, and I knew my father would not wish me to expend any unnecessary power on trivial wounds, but I couldn’t prevent myself from addressing his broken wrist on the right side. I sensed from his ki that this was the hand he used to fight with, and if he could not hold his sword he would be considered unfit for his post and bring shame and dishonor to his family, providing he actually left this room alive. I hurried with my task, not wishing to raise any suspicion from my father, and then backed slowly away from the young soldier with my head bent and eyes to the floor.
The soldier sputtered and coughed up some left over blood from the wound he had received and then opened his eyes. I wasn’t allowed to pay attention to the things that came after, but I wasn’t sure why my father thought I would be able to block everything out when I stood in the same room. Immediately dismissing me didn’t mean I ceased to exist.
I sank into the shadows and watched as the soldier surveyed his surroundings with a shrewd eye. He didn’t appear to be afraid like most soldiers upon finding themselves placed in this room. Instead, he let out a low, deliberate laugh and slowly sat up. He didn’t need to look at my father to know he was there. I sensed he felt very little fear, satisfied with his circumstances.
I was convinced he’d gone mad.
“Emperor Fukurokuju, this is quite the honor. I must have done something terribly heroic on the battlefield to have been brought here instead of the regular healing area.”
I was astounded at his sarcastic tone and frank manner. The disrespect and unveiled hatred he exhibited toward my father was so foreign to me it nearly had me coughing and sputtering to try and distract everyone from this man’s egregious error. There were many who hated my father, myself included, but I’d never witnessed anyone brave enough to show it.
I waited for my father’s explosive response, but it never came. Instead, he surprised me by letting out a boisterous laugh.
“Isamu, I see you are no longer keeping up this tiring façade. Tell me, how long is it that you’ve worked with those samurai insurgents? Have you gathered sufficient intel to dispose of me and my thousands of loyal subjects?”
I nearly let out a disjointed laugh. I couldn’t think of one living being in my father’s kingdom who would have considered themselves loyal to him. Then I realized what he was accusing this man of. He was a rebel; a samurai insurgent.
This young man would never again see the light of day. I wanted to curl up into a ball on the floor and disappear into oblivion, knowing full well what would be required of me within a few moments.
“Oh, we’ve done much better than that, but why share such information and spoil the fun that awaits you? I think silence at this point is a more satisfying option.” The man spoke with an easy assurance that didn’t fit with the dire circumstances he found himself in. He knew he was going to die, yet he didn’t seem to care.
My father approached him, his pace slow and deliberate.
“I think, young Isamu, you will find that willingly sharing what you know will be a less painful option than the methods I will use to ferret out what little you claim to know.”
The soldier glared at him and bared his teeth.
“I am aware of your methods and do not fear your torture.”
My father stared at him for a few more seconds. A happy look lit his eyes; a morbid expression considering the circumstances, but I knew that look far too well.
It was time.
“Daughter!” my father barked.
I jumped and hurried to collect my composure. Walking swiftly to the table, I placed my hands on either side of his head and prepared myself for the unpleasant part of my gift. I wasn’t sure what possessed me to do it; I’d certainly never allowed myself this liberty before, but I looked right into the man’s eyes and acknowledged that he did, in fact, exist. He stared back at me with no hint of fear or hatred on his part; just a strange kind of intensity that made me feel as if he were lending me some of his strength for the task that lay ahead of me. I closed my eyes and tried to steady my hands as I connected with him again.
I was immediately hit with a loud voice calling out my name.
“Princess, can you hear me?”
I felt a wave of shock ripple through my entire body. The soldier was communicating with me. In all my life this had never before happened.
When my father wanted information he would force me to connect with a person and command their ki to give up every detail of their life and transfer it to mine in order to extract any and all pertinent information that would help my father in winning this insufferable war. Anything that might give him an advantage was fair game.
The process wasn’t painful for either myself or my subject, but once their memories were transferred to me, my father wouldn’t allow me to give them back and the person was left with nothing; no memory of their life, their loved ones or their sense of self. They were stripped of everything, becoming mere shells of what they used to be, and their ki almost always terminated itself within minutes afterward. It mistook the loss of self as irreparable damage to the brain, and death seemed like a logical conclusion to come to.
That part was painful, for both of us. I always felt their ki searching frantically for some signal from the brain, some sign that it was still functioning properly. It would wait for me to share insightful information, and when nothing was given it would give up and rip away from the body.
It had to be the worst kind of invasion a person could ever experience. It made me vomit every time.
“Princess, we haven’t much time. Can you hear me?”
I mentally shook myself and responded.
“Yes, I can hear you, but how is this possible? I’ve never had anyone communicate with me before?”
“There is no time for me to explain. I must get this message to you. Akane, the woman you met last night in the street, the one you healed, you remember her?”
I thought of the woman I had quickly healed as I headed into the woods on my way back to the palace. I knew it had been a mistake to heal her like that. I’d given my identity away. I could only hope this woman had not revealed to the village that Daiki’s medicine friend was in fact, The Healer.
“I remember. How would you know about her?”
“I am her first in command. She feels we can trust you with our cause, with our mission to undermine your father and free our people from his tyranny. Was she wrong in believing this?”
My mind was reeling from this information. He had called the woman Akane. Daiki had mentioned she was the leader of the samurai insurgents.
“Your commander is correct. I have no desire to continue living under my father’s rule. I had been planning on leaving the empire sooner rather than later.” I couldn’t believe I was relating my plans, but my guard had completely lowered.
“We need you here. If you leave now all of our planning will come to nothing. Are you willing to reconsider?”
I kept my eyes closed and tried to keep my body still. I knew my father couldn’t hear this conversation, but having it right under his nose with his eyes studying me made me feel as if he knew everything.
“You need to begin slumping forward ever so slightly. Your body, under normal circumstances, would be weakening from the memory transfer.”
“Ah, yes, I had heard mention of your father corrupting your gift in such a manner. It’s for this reason I allowed my true sympathies to be discovered. We needed to speak with you.”
He slumped forward a little and let out a soft moan.
“Don’t overdo it. This part isn’t supposed to hurt.” He stopped moaning and slumped further down. I had to rest his head back on the table before I could con
tinue my discussion with him. “You were prepared to die in order to communicate with me? I could easily refuse your request, and then what have you accomplished?”
“True, but Akane and I both felt that our current predicament warranted taking such risks?”
“What predicament?”
“Our time is running out. If you wish to join our cause, leave your window unlocked tonight. Further instruction will await you.”
“It is impossible for you to breach the palace wall and enter through my window without kami blood running through your veins.”
“We know, and we have found a solution to the problem.”
I nearly raised my eyebrows at this, but remembered to keep my face still at the last second.
“Fine. I will honor your request, but that doesn’t mean I will join your cause. I am, however, willing to hear you out.”
His relief was palpable and transferred through our link with surprising force.
“I have just one more request, Princess.”
“Yes?”
“Please, when you receive my memories don’t share any information that would compromise our plans.”
“I will have to tell the emperor something.”
“Feed him false information. Tell him we plan on attacking his soldiers he recently sent toward the north. That would help our cause tremendously.”
I wanted to ask how, but knew we didn’t have much more time left. My father had forced me to perform this particular procedure so many times previously, he was now familiar with how long it normally took.
I was loath to do it. This young soldier had been willing to sacrifice his very life merely to pass along a request from his superiors, and I admired his honor and courage. I couldn’t imagine what they thought they could accomplish against an immortal kami such as my father, but they were willing to fight for what they believed in. I’d never fought against my father. I’d merely planned on running away. I felt shame course through me.
“I will tell him what you ask, but perhaps there is a way to return you to your commander with spirit intact.”
“How?” I felt his hope burning small and steady, as if he were afraid to believe he could possibly survive the outcome of this situation.
“I will instruct your body to slow your breaths and your heartbeats for one hour. You will become unconscious and appear dead to all who look at you. Your body will be taken and placed in a cart and driven several miles from here where it will be dumped into a mass grave site reserved for the poor and seditious traitors of my father. They won’t burn your body to release your spirit to the gods or even bury you out of respect for the dead. My father has none, and will most certainly not pretend to have any for a traitor in his army.”
“Then when I awaken I will be free, and your father will assume I am dead.”
I felt his hope heighten as he realized this plan could work. I hurried to caution him.
“This plan is not without risk. They may be very harsh with your body. You might awaken with broken bones or severe lacerations.”
“I’ll take that over certain death, Princess. Thank you. I knew The Healer could be nothing like King Fukurokuju.”
I may not have been like my father, but I certainly wasn’t planning on being The Healer for much longer. That title had haunted me my entire life. I wanted nothing more to do with it or what it signified.
“Hold perfectly still as I communicate with your spirit. May you have luck follow you, soldier.”
I felt his gratitude as I began to instruct his spirit to slow his breathing and heartbeats for one hour. I sincerely hoped it would be enough time for him to reach the grave site and then escape. My hands shook as I tried to keep my anxiety under control. I’d never before defied my father right under his nose like this. If we were caught…well, I couldn’t die, but death was preferable to the punishments I was sure my father would sentence me to.
Once I finished, I pulled my hands away from the young man’s head and opened my eyes. His body lay perfectly still. I marveled at how believable his fake death appeared. His skin had taken on a cool waxy appearance, and there was no discerning any kind of rise or fall from his chest. Anyone looking at him never would have imagined he still lived.
“Daughter,” my father yelled.
I nearly jumped at his jarring tone. I backed away from the solider with eyes to the floor and head bowed. I was so tired of behaving in such a subservient manner. For once, I wanted to look a man in the eye and not feel as if I was doing something wrong.
“It is done, then?”
I nodded my head.
“Very good. Come. I will allow you a few minutes to regain your strength, and then you must report to me everything you managed to glean from this traitorous snake.” He turned swiftly and left the room. I was once again expected to follow, and follow I did. Just like an obedient daughter would.
I didn’t have far to walk, nor did I have much time with which to recuperate, but I wasn’t as tired as I normally would have been. I was quite giddy, actually. Hopefully I had just managed to save someone’s life; a welcome change to what my gift was usually used for.
I followed my father into a dark room adjacent to the one we’d come from. It was just as lifeless and hollow as the rest of the place. In the middle was another wooden table with two rickety chairs. I perched myself precariously on one side with my father on the other. My back was stiff, my spine straight and, as always, my head and eyes were lowered.
There were several pieces of parchment paper with a writing quill sitting in the center of the table. My father could have had a number of servants scribe word for word what I dictated, but he preferred to do it himself with only the two of us in the room. It was the only occasion I was ever alone for more than a few moments with my father, and it was never pleasant.
Sometimes I would imagine our conversations differently, with him asking what my thoughts and feelings were on deep matters such as life, having a family or conversations where we talked of nothing that really mattered, but enjoyed one another’s company either way. Sometimes I wished he would ask me how I felt about his ridiculous prophecy or the idea that I was betrothed to a deity I had never before met.
It was a silly wish, I guess. Fathers didn’t do that with their daughters, even if their daughter was considered royalty and The Healer, no less. I was a commodity; a pawn just like any other female in our society. It was a nauseating realization to come to, but it hit me square in the face day after day. If I had an opportunity to change all that, at least for myself, then it was time to be brave and try. So there I sat, preparing to lie to my father, a deity, for the first time in my entire life. It was so frightening, it was almost exhilarating.
“Report,” he commanded.
“No family,” I responded swiftly. I was sure the young man did have family, but I didn’t have that information, and my father had a nasty habit of slaughtering relatives of anyone he deemed untrustworthy. “His parents died during an epidemic when he was two, and he was raised and trained in a small monastery several miles from here.”
My father scribbled away as I continued to let lie after lie roll off my tongue. At first my voice was shaky, but it grew stronger the longer I wove the young man’s false history. Strange how a small act of defiance could leave me feeling so empowered.
“Any information on their main base of operation?”
For years my father had forced me to search the minds of his victims, looking for any shred of information that might reveal the location of the rebels’ main camp. Unfortunately, most members of the rebels were led there blindfolded and departed the same way. I could never get a read on the direction they had taken.
“No. He was blindfolded,” I lied.
I hadn’t actually searched his memories, but he probably did have some knowledge considering his ranking within the rebel army. I was happy I hadn’t actually absorbed any memories. The location of the rebel base was not information I wished to have, and I certainly n
ever wanted my father to have it.
“Anything else?”
“The samurai rebels are planning an attack against your armies in the North. The ones you recently deployed.”
“How many men?”
“I’m not sure, Father. I saw a whirlwind of faces, but no distinct thought that revealed numbers or the amount of supplies available to them.”
My father’s scribbling stopped. I stilled, wishing I had simply lied and made some kind of number up. His hand shot out much faster than I was prepared for, knocking me from my chair and leveling me to the floor. I shook my head and raised my fingers to my mouth. It had filled with a salty, coppery liquid.
He had split my lip again.
As a daughter of an immortal being I had been blessed with the ability to heal myself. My body corrected any injury almost immediately following its occurrence; a trait my father exploited. He could beat me as much as he wanted and no one would ever know because there was never any physical proof. The damage healed within minutes.
I had, of course, attempted to find support and solace in the arms of my mother. She told me it was my fault. An honorable daughter never behaved in a way that would demand physical punishment unless she had no honor at all. I found it wholly ironic that my father could beat me to the point of death with no one to answer to, but if anyone else accidentally touched me, besides my maid, they would lose their life.
My father waited for me to pull myself together and reposition myself on the chair. I’d learned long ago never to cry. It merely made the beatings worse.
“Are you sure of the information now?” I felt his glare bleeding into the top of my bowed head.
I wasn’t sure what possessed me to answer him the way I did. Maybe it was the idea that someone had just deceived him without him being the wiser or the idea that others out there were capable of defying my father to the point that it might actually be a worry or a threat to him. Maybe it was the young soldier’s courage or the confidence he and his commander had in me without having ever taken a true measure of my character or my heart. Or maybe, just maybe I had finally decided that being beaten to death was preferable to another moment spent living under the same palace roof as Emperor Fukurokuju.