Brave Story

by Miyabe, Miyuki

  Wataru mentioned what Mitsuru had said, and Wayfinder Lau nodded deeply. “Travelers from your world can use the Mirror near a star sigil to create a link between Vision and the other world—a Corridor of Light. Travelers may pass along the corridor to go back to their world, but only for a very short amount of time. Should they not return to Vision before the way is closed, then they will not be able to return home, nor will they be allowed back into Vision. They will be stuck forever in the Vale of Eternity—the gap between two worlds—lost vagrants in time.”

  That explained why Mitsuru had been in such a hurry to leave. The Vale of Eternity? Vagrants in time? It seemed like there was still much more for Wataru to learn about this place.

  “Okay, I think I understand. So how do I get a Mirror of Truth?”

  “What, Mitsuru didn’t tell you?”

  “No.”

  Wayfinder Lau smiled. “You need not search for your Mirror of Truth. It will come looking for you. It shouldn’t be too long before you’re found.”

  “Huh?”

  “The Mirror of Truth knows when Travelers have arrived in Vision, only then does it appear. It’s really not that complicated a concept.”

  Wataru wasn’t sure. The number of things it seemed like he was expected to remember was dizzying.

  “You’re confused. It’s understandable.” The wizard wiped away more tears from his eyelashes, and gave Wataru a kind look. “I don’t expect you to understand everything about this world, your world, and the Vale of Eternity anytime soon. Most come to an understanding over the course of their journey, and that’s really the best way. For now, I’ll tell you only the things that you must remember, the things that are most important.”

  Lifting the Brave’s Sword from Wataru’s hand, Wayfinder Lau pointed at the star sigil engraved on its hilt. “Look. See the holes at each tip of the star? These are not mere holes, mind you. They are settings. In your travels through Vision, you must search for five gemstones. These stones will fit into these settings.”

  “Gemstones? You mean, like diamonds?”

  “Something of the sort. When all five gemstones have been placed in their settings, only then will this tiny, worn blade reveal its true nature. It will become a true Demon’s Bane, fit to cut a path to the Tower of Destiny.”

  A Demon’s Bane?

  “Around the tower where the Goddess of Fate presides lies a thick mist made by the demons. Only the Demon’s Bane blade can hope to cut through that barrier and open the way to the tower. Thus it was named. So, no matter how frail it might look now, do not show it disrespect, young Traveler. Understood?”

  “I think so,” Wataru said, feeling a kind of confident strength welling up inside. He gripped his hands tightly. “Where will I find these five gemstones? What do they look like?”

  Wayfinder Lau gave Wataru a sharp slap on the forehead. “If I knew that, I wouldn’t have asked you to search for them!”

  “What, I don’t even get a hint? I have to search all of Vision?”

  “You do. But should you find yourself near one of the gemstones, it will call to you in a fashion. Follow the call, Wataru.”

  This is ridiculous. Wataru felt what little confidence he had draining away.

  “You…do not seem prepared.” Wayfinder Lau lifted his hand, as though to deliver yet another slap, but then he changed his mind, and instead covered his own face. “For many long years have I been a Watcher, but never have I found myself so lacking in faith in a Traveler as I am now. And to think you might be the Half…I fear rough times ahead.”

  “The Half? Half of what?” Wataru asked, wincing at yet another term to learn.

  Wayfinder Lau jerked back, as though surprised. “N-never you mind about that. I swear, if the rest of you was as exceptional as your hearing, you’d be a force to reckon with.”

  He rubbed irritably at his face, then he lifted the sleeve of his robe and wiped at his nose. Eww. His sleeve is filthy.

  “As for the gemstones, there is another important thing you should know,” the old man said, looking calm again. “It has something to do with the Mirror of Truth.”

  There was a connection, the wizard explained, between the number of gemstones and the number of times the Mirror of Truth might be used.

  “Find a single gemstone, and you will be able to use the Mirror once. Find another, and you will be able to use it once more. Of course, should you find a gemstone but have no need of the Mirror, you can save it up for later. The Mirror doesn’t charge interest, you see.

  “A moment ago,” Wayfinder Lau continued, “I mentioned that one may use the Mirror only where there is a star sigil to be found.”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “Now these places with the star sigils—I have no idea where they are. That is for you to find. What I do know, though, is that where there is a star sigil, a gemstone will not be far away. And that is your hint.”

  Wataru turned the Brave’s Sword in his hand. “But Lord Wayfinder, I don’t think I will want to use the Mirror of Truth—not like Mitsuru did, at any rate. Do I still have to look for it if I’m not even going to use it?”

  There was no answer. Time passed. Wataru lifted his eyes from the Brave’s Sword, and looked at the Wayfinder. The old man had his hands at his waist, and his face was twisted in a scowl. He was mad again. Only his eyes were still filled with tears. This guy’s screwy.

  “Wayfinder Lau?”

  “What about your mother? You left her behind in the other world. Are you not worried for her?”

  Wataru was surprised. “My mother?”

  “Do not think that time stops in the other world just because you are here in Vision. Don’t you wonder what has become of your mother? Don’t you think your disappearance has caused her terrible pain? Don’t you want to show her your face, tell her you’re okay?”

  It was as the old man said. Wataru had been so distracted by all the new sights and information filling his eyes, he had completely forgotten about everything he had left behind.

  “Of-of course I’m worried about her. She’s why I came to Vision in the first place.”

  The old man took a deep breath and shook his head slowly. “Then you too will need to use a Corridor of Light after all. And for that, you must seek the sigils.”

  “Then that’s what I’ll do. I’ll find the sigils.”

  Wayfinder Lau stood up from the table and peered out through the window. “The sun’s gone down,” he said. “You will stay in the village tonight, and leave in the morning. You may use any of the unoccupied huts. There’s only one bed in each, you see, and I’ll be staying here. I’ll bring you food later.”

  “Thank you,” Wataru said. He bowed deeply and walked toward the door.

  “Ah yes, one more thing,” Wayfinder Lau called out. Wataru turned to find the old man staring at him, a stern expression on his face. “You must not seek out Mitsuru.”

  “I know. Mitsuru told me. He said you had to reach the Tower of Destiny on your own—that two Travelers couldn’t walk together.”

  Wayfinder Lau walked over and placed both of his hands—like withered branches—upon Wataru’s shoulders. “That is not all,” he said. “You see, you could not search for Mitsuru even if you wanted to—because your Vision and the Vision through which he travels are not the same.”

  Startled, Wataru clutched the Wayfinder’s robes. “What do you mean? There’s more than one Vision? You mean, this isn’t the same place he was talking about?”

  “It is, and it isn’t. Vision changes for each person who comes to it.”

  That’s right. Wataru vaguely remembered Mitsuru trying to explain the peculiarities of Vision to him.

  “I see. This is good,” the old man said, with a satisfied nod. “So then you must realize that part of the energy that creates Vision comes from Travelers, like you and Mitsuru. Because you have come here, your energies have a far more profound effect on Vision. This is why the Vision that Mitsuru sees and the Vision that you see
are, by nature, quite different.”

  Wataru scratched his head. He understood when two travelers came, their energies would be added to the world—that part was easy to get—but he didn’t quite see why they would have to be separate.

  Wayfinder Lau gave Wataru a final slap on the forehead. “In any case, as you yourself said, no two Travelers may travel together. Do not search for Mitsuru, for it would be in vain. That, and he’s much farther along the path than you.”

  “Well, of course he is. He came here a lot sooner.”

  “Yes, and he’s a sight smarter too,” Wayfinder Lau added bluntly. “Mitsuru has used the Mirror of Truth once on your behalf. That means he’s found at least one of the gemstones. You’ll have to hurry to catch up.”

  The wizard helped Wataru fasten the Brave’s Sword to his belt. Somehow he managed to get it to stay.

  “You don’t look half bad.”

  Wayfinder Lau hustled him out of the hut. The forest surrounding the tiny village was already dark. The grass beneath Wataru’s feet seemed damp. He heard no songs—the birds must have already gone back to their nests.

  The sky above his head was studded with stars. He stared up at them until the back of his neck began to ache. He could find nothing familiar—no Orion, or Big Dipper. The night sky in Vision must not be a reflection of the real one. For that matter, there didn’t even seem to be a moon.

  Wataru decided to stay in the Hut of Kindness. Much to his surprise, the moment he stepped in the door, a flame lit in a small fireplace. An oil lamp atop the table sputtered to life as well. The old wizard’s doing, no doubt. Alone, he found he was suddenly very tired. Throwing himself upon the bed, he was soon deep asleep.

  Wataru woke early the next morning. He was starving.

  He stepped outside to find smoke rising from the Hut of Sorrow, as it had the night before. Master Lau was already up and eating at the table, tears streaming down his cheeks.

  “G-good morning,” he sniffled.

  “Good morning.”

  “Come here and sit. You slept so well last night I didn’t wake you for supper. You must be famished. Here, eat.”

  Wataru felt like he was on the brink of starvation. There was round bread with a crunchy crust, and tea that smelled of peppermint. There was a yellow fruit that looked something like an apple, but it was far more rich and sweet tasting. Everything was delicious.

  “Food for the road,” the Wayfinder said, passing Wataru a bulging bag of simple cloth. “There’s enough for your lunch in there, but that is all I can give you. After this, you’re on your own.”

  On my own? For a moment, he didn’t understand what the Wayfinder meant. Wait, so I have to get my own food and find a place to stay? What did the characters in Saga do, anyway? In all the games he had played, save for some event scenes, he had never seen a character eat. And money to stay at an inn was easy to come by—if you could kill monsters.

  Suddenly, Wataru felt very alone. He had never been on a trip by himself before. Once, he had gotten on the express train to visit his grandmother in Chiba, but even then his mom had gone with him all the way to Tokyo Station, and Uncle Lou had been waiting for him at the ticket gate when he arrived.

  “That’s right. But don’t you worry. Stay on the path, and you’ll reach the town of Gasara a little after noon. Gasara is a lively place, and a center of trade—the largest in these parts. All you need do is ask around, and I’m sure you’ll find work.”

  Work. Right.

  “Um, can’t I kill monsters to get money or something?”

  Wayfinder Lau opened his eyes wide. “Are you mad?”

  Something told Wataru that his travels here would be quite different from adventuring in the world of Saga. He felt defeated, and sat slumped at the table until Wayfinder Lau prodded him to his feet.

  “The way out of the woods is there. Good travels to you.”

  Wataru walked off with hesitant steps, looking back again and again at Wayfinder Lau. The old wizard stood in the village clearing, thoughtfully rubbing his chin as he watched Wataru leave.

  “Well, Lord Wayfinder, I suppose I shall leave too,” came the sweet-sounding voice of a girl. The old man brushed back his robes and looked down.

  “I’m not down there, silly,” the voice said with a laugh that sounded like the tinkling of tiny bells.

  The Wayfinder grunted. Still looking down, he said, “Well, Lady Onba, you certainly seem to have taken to our young traveler. Not that I can fathom why you’d do such a thing.”

  “But he’s so cute, so young. All Travelers should be cute, I think,” the lilting, enchanting voice said. It was the same voice that had spoken to Wataru in his room—the one he called a fairy.

  “The other Traveler, that Mitsuru, he’s a handsome lad, no?” Wayfinder Lau said, then quickly clapped a hand over his own mouth.

  “Hmph,” the sweet voice said, pouting. (Or at least it sounded like she was pouting.) “Really, Lord Wayfinder. You needn’t be concerned about that anymore.”

  “Erm, yes, well, my apologies all the same. But, Lady Onba,” Wayfinder Lau added quietly, “feelings aside, it does not do to intervene too deeply in Travelers’ affairs. You wouldn’t want to incur the Goddess’s wrath again, would you?”

  “Oh, that trollop can thunder and fume all she likes! I’ll do as I please, as I always have. I’d reconsider my unwavering support of her too, if I were you, Lord Wayfinder.”

  The old man lowered his head and said nothing. He stood there motionless for a while before realizing that Lady Onba had departed—most likely to follow Wataru.

  “Dear, dear…” the Wayfinder muttered under his breath. His face was dark. “I knew only trouble would come from Lady Onba’s delvings into the other world.”

  Wayfinder Lau walked over to the window and looked out. As one, the birds of the forest resumed their song, as though they had been waiting for him.

  Good morning, Wayfinder. Good morning.

  “Lo, my friends,” the old man called out smiling. He leaned on the windowsill and, listening to their song, sat for a long while deep in thought.

  Chapter 4

  The Endless Field

  Wataru continued walking in the direction he had been shown. Suddenly, and dramatically, the deep forest changed.

  “Whoa!”

  Before him stretched a vast field—a sea of grass as far as the eye could see. It seemed to stretch all the way to the horizon.

  A refreshing breeze washed over Wataru’s face as he stood gazing out on the waving grass. Here and there, bleached rocks jutted out from the greenish towers. Here and there, the grassland dipped and rolled with little hills and valleys. In other places it was dull and flat. The sheer distance he could see was breathtaking.

  —Walk toward the rising sun.

  So had Wayfinder Lau instructed him. Only one sun rose in Vision’s sky, and it was quite similar to the one in the real world, except that you could look straight at it and not risk hurting your eyes. It wasn’t very bright. Wataru remembered that in Saga I, there were two suns. The story went that one of the suns burned too hot, until it threatened to destroy the very world. Not a problem here.

  Wataru walked out into the field. There were no roads to speak of. Nor could he hear any birdsong. Occasionally he would spot insects, like tiny white moths, that would flutter about him. But otherwise, he had no other companions.

  For a while the pleasant view lifted his spirits, but as he walked through the seemingly endless plains, he began to realize the harsh reality—or perhaps here he should say the fantasy—of his situation.

  I’m going to be walking forever. I have no other means of transportation. No car, no train. Nothing to rely on but my own two legs.

  Well, he thought, hoping to cheer himself up, every RPG I’ve ever played begins with the main characters walking. It didn’t work. Games were games. When he played the last dungeon of Saga II with Katchan, their characters had to walk forever through treacherous terrain, but the h
ero never said, “I’m tired.” Wataru and Katchan, for their part, were sitting on the floor, or lying on their sides, drinking as much cola and juice as they pleased.

  The thought of a cold drink made him suddenly thirsty. It occurred to him that, though the Wayfinder had given him a lunch, he hadn’t said anything about drinks. Wataru had to find a source of water, a river, or a lake. And he had to find one soon.

  He walked on a while, and when he felt he’d gone a substantial distance, he looked back over his shoulder. The forest was still close behind him, looming thick over the grassland. How depressing. I must walk slower than I thought.

  He continued on in silence with no one to talk to. The sun beat down hard and hot on the unchanging field. Wataru was sweating. He forced himself to keep up the pace by counting steps, one, two, three. This seemed to help. It occurred to him that part of his unease was because he was unable to count the passing of time with any accuracy. Then again, he hadn’t wondered what time it was once since his arrival in this world. It didn’t seem to matter.

  When he’d counted nearly a thousand steps, he spotted a small, round copse of trees ahead and to the left. It was as though someone up in the sky had gathered a bundle of trees and stuck them straight into the ground. The cluster of trees seemed very tall above the flat of the plain.

  Wataru stopped and wiped the sweat off his forehead with a hand, and began to walk toward the woods. He counted his steps again, starting over with one. With trees growing like that, he thought, there might be water—a sort of oasis in this desert of grass.

  Water…water…cool water. He repeated the words to himself like a mantra, approaching the oasis, until at last he saw something like a roof poking out between the trees. He caught a glimpse of tiles as the tree branches swayed in the wind off the grasslands. Somebody must live there.

  At about fifty paces away from the stand of trees, Wataru noticed a thin line of white dust rising on the horizon. He stared at it, and saw that it was moving from right to left, a little at a time. In fact, it seemed to be coming this way, heading for the oasis.