Brave Story

by Miyabe, Miyuki

  Wataru ran for the copse. As he drew nearer, he could hear leaves blowing in a stiff wind. There, in the middle of the trees, he could see a low wall of round stone, above which hung a bucket on a rope. A well! It really is an oasis. At least, he thought it was a well. It was Wataru’s first time seeing the real thing. He walked over to the rim and looked down to see water glimmering in the half-light below.

  The tiled roof stood above it, supported by four sturdy wooden posts. Probably to keep rainwater out, Wataru thought, if it ever does rain here in Vision.

  Wataru drew water from the well, and putting his lips to the edge of the bucket, he drank in deep gulps. It was cool and delicious. A loud sigh of relief escaped his lips. Heedless of the water dribbling down the front of his shirt, Wataru continued to drink and drink.

  Catching his breath and looking around, Wataru noticed red fruits resembling tomatoes lying on the ground. They appeared to have fallen from the trees around the well. Most were overripe and squashed by the fall.

  Wataru picked one up and sniffed. Sweet, a little tangy. Seems edible.

  Wataru gazed up at the trees, but the branches were all high off the ground, and the trunks were perfectly smooth. He had never been one for climbing trees much anyway.

  He thought for a while and then began gathering a few palm-size rocks. Taking one in his right hand, he threw it up at the branches, trying to knock down some of the fruit that had yet to fall. Wataru had played enough catchball that he had a pretty good aim.

  His efforts soon met with success. Picking up one of the fallen fruits and brushing off the dirt, he carefully took a bite. Tastes like a tomato too. But it was a far richer, juicier fruit than any tomato Wataru had seen at the supermarket. Wataru was starting to wonder if all the fruit in Vision tasted so delicious.

  Even better, if he gathered enough of these, he wouldn’t be thirsty—or hungry—on his journey. Wataru continued picking up the fruit. He was so absorbed in aiming and throwing rocks, that when a dusty wind blew through the wood along with the sound of hooves it took him entirely by surprise.

  “Oy! Ooooy! You there!”

  Someone riding on a drawn carriage was approaching the woods, waving his arm in Wataru’s direction. The voice was loud and carried well in the dry air. Wataru ran to the edge of the woods, and shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun with one hand, he looked out over the glimmering green grassland. The dust line he had seen before must have originated from this carriage, he realized. Odd that so much dust would come up from this grassland.

  Then Wataru noticed the road. Maybe it’s the road to Gasara!

  The carriage-like thing had slowed down, no longer kicking up dust. As it came closer, Wataru noticed something quite odd. The covered carriage was the same as anything you might see in an old Western movie, but what was pulling it wasn’t exactly a horse. It was—what is that thing?

  The creature pulling the carriage looked like a cow, but its neck was far too long. Two horns grew from its forehead. It was large, with silken gray fur, and enormous hooves that spread out at the bottom like a pair of bell-bottom jeans.

  “Oy! You there! Don’t eat too many o’ those baquas now, y’hear?”

  The person riding on the carriage drew in the reins, and the vehicle came to a stop nearby. “Darbabas love ’em, I know. Ah, they’re sweet as can be. But not for people folk. Eat too many o’ those and yer stomach’ll tie itself into all sorts of knots.”

  Wataru dropped the half-eaten fruit in his hand. The driver laughed out loud and stepped out of his carriage. “Still, that’s no reason to waste what you’ve got already. They’re not poisonous, mind you. And they are delicious, eh? Maybe I’ll help meself to one o’ them ’fore I let my darbaba at ’em. Hrmm…”

  Wataru stood with his mouth open, shaking.

  It’s a lizard!

  The man driving the carriage pulled by the long-necked cow was a lizard. He stood about six feet tall, and his skin was covered in dun scales. Fishing up one of the fruits from the ground, he wiped it off and began to munch at it noisily. Sharp teeth glinted in his mouth. He looked exactly like one of the monsters in the Saga series—the Lizard-Men—so much so that were he holding a sword, Wataru wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference.

  “What is it, boy? Something on my face?”

  The lizard-man walked over, smiling broadly. Wataru took a step back. The driver tilted his neck and scratched thoughtfully at his cheek with his hooked claws. “Hrm, what’s wrong, scared of something? You sure are a small one, aren’t you? Alone, eh? Your pa around?”

  Wataru thought to answer, but his tongue caught in his mouth.

  “Where did you come from, little one?” The lizard-man asked kindly, munching one of the red fruits as he spoke. “Wouldn’t expect to see refugees from the Empire out in a backwater like this…you’re an ankha, right? First time meeting a waterkin, is it?”

  Wataru swallowed noisily, and managed to say in a strained voice, “Y-yyou’re a waterkin?”

  “In the flesh!” the lizard-man replied. As he talked, he gathered up more of the fruit in his big hands and fed them to the long-necked cow. The cattlething made a mooing sound and worked its massive jaw. It seemed happy.

  “A-and I’m an…ankha?” Wataru asked, pointing at himself.

  “Of course you are. First race made by the Goddess. That’s why you look so much like her. Didn’t they teach you that in school?” the lizard-man said, baring his teeth. That must be a grin, Wataru hoped.

  Wataru thought. These “ankha” the lizard-man was talking about must be the name for the race that look like humans in this world. That meant that Wayfinder Lau was an ankha too. So there were other races in Vision.

  “Th-that animal…”

  “My darbaba? What, first time seeing one of them too? Don’t be frightened, they’re gentle as can be. He loves it when you rub him behind the ears.”

  The darbaba was happily munching away, baqua juice dripping from the corner of its mouth, getting an ear-rub from the driver. He adjusted the short leather kilt around his waist, and peered again at Wataru.

  “If you’ve not seen a darbaba before, boy, then you must be from the Empire. I hear they don’t use livestock to pull carriages there. Why, once a traveling merchant bought five head off o’ me, said he’d bring ’em up to the city and charge people just to look at ’em. Course I heard he went bankrupt a few months later, but still.”

  Wataru wondered about this Empire the lizard-man was talking about. So there’s more than one country in Vision.

  “If we’re not in the Empire here,” Wataru began, “where are we? Does this place have a…”

  He was going to ask if it had a name, but he stopped halfway. Wataru gaped. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

  What are these words coming out of my mouth? It’s not Japanese. It’s not even English. I’ve never heard this language before in my life.

  Yet he spoke without difficulty and seemed quite fluent. He had no difficulty understanding the lizard-man’s speech, either.

  “Somebody must’ve switched my head on me when I wasn’t looking,” Wataru muttered to himself. “I’ve become one of them, one of the people of Vision. Like someone cast a spell on me.”

  The darbaba mooed plaintively for more baqua, and the lizard-man obliged with what seemed to be a bemused expression on his face. Although, to be honest, Wataru wasn’t exactly sure what kind of expression was on his face. The lizard-man’s eyes were set on either side of his nose and his mouth was hanging half open. His sharp teeth glistened brightly in the sun.

  As Wataru stood frozen, trying to think of something to say, a long tongue slipped out of the lizard-man’s mouth. It looped around in a wide arc and licked the very top of the lizard-man’s head. Wataru stiffened, but, not wanting to appear rude, stopped himself from stepping back.

  “Well, this is a surprise,” the lizard-man hissed through large, sharp teeth. “Don’t often see ignorance on this scale in a—wa
it, you wouldn’t happen to be a Traveler now, would you?”

  Wataru nodded slowly.

  “You are! You are?!”

  The lizard-man lifted his scaly arms and clapped his massive hands together. Then, with a surprisingly fast motion he strode over to Wataru and embraced him.

  “Whoa! What’re you doing?”

  Wataru’s feet dangled almost three feet off the ground. The lizard-man had muscles befitting his size. Lifting Wataru seemed to require no effort at all. It was like getting a hug from a pro wrestler.

  The lizard-man seemed overjoyed. With squinting eyes he lifted Wataru high into the air, and began to jump around like he was doing a little dance.

  “Happy, happy! When I woke up this morning, I knew something good would come of the day, but little did I know! To meet a Traveler, this is a joy beyond joys! What a lucky fellow am I!”

  Tossed about like a rag doll, Wataru felt like his eyes might spin out of his head. “Uh, er, excuse me,” he gasped. “My stomach—I think it’s going to fly out of my mouth.”

  “Very sorry, boy,” said the lizard-man, bringing Wataru back to earth. “Well, Mr. Traveler, tell me, when did you come to Vision? You’re headed for the Goddess’s tower, no? Or perhaps you have some other destination in mind?”

  Wataru rubbed his temples with his fingers. He was pleased to see that his head hadn’t been entirely warped by the shaking. “I’ve only just arrived yesterday. This morning I left the Wayfinder’s village, and I’ve been walking in these grasslands ever since. I came here looking for water…”

  “I see, yes, I see. A new Traveler, are you now? That explains why you know so little. Where were you headed?”

  “I thought I would head to the town of Gasara—where the Wayfinder told me to go. He said if I didn’t get lost, I’d get there just after noon.”

  “Gasara? Then I’m afraid you have gotten lost. It’s not far, true, but you’re well off the path. On your legs, I don’t think you’d make it there before sunset.”

  Wataru frowned. He had walked toward the sun, just as he was told. Where could he have gone wrong?

  The lizard-man grinned, baring his fangs. “It’s okay, don’t worry. I’ll take you to Gasara. Ride in my carriage, and we’ll be there while the sun is still high in the sky. That darbaba you see over there, he’s the surest and swiftestfooted of my lot. Name’s Turbo.”

  Swiftest?? To Wataru, the creature looked like he was sleeping on his feet. Oh well, a free ride would be welcome—no matter how fast or slow the pace. On cue, Turbo made another friendly mooing noise.

  “My name’s Wataru.”

  “Wataru? My name’s Keema, but, well, you see it’s a rather popular name among us waterkin, so most add on my middle name too, so as not to confuse me with someone else.”

  “So, what should I call you?”

  “Kee Keema,” he replied, enunciating carefully. “The first syllable, you pronounce that about a half tone higher than the second part. Else it sounds like a girl’s name, see?”

  Kee Keema. Wataru tried saying it, practicing the pronunciation several times. It wasn’t a particularly difficult thing to say, which somehow made it hard to mimic exactly. At about the twentieth try, Kee Keema scratched his head. “On second thought,” he said, “let’s not worry about my name, eh? We’ve got better things to do, places to go!”

  “Sorry…”

  “Don’t let it bother you. That seventeenth time, just then, that was headed in the right direction.”

  Kee Keema rose lightly to his feet and prepared to set off. Wataru hesitated. “But, Kee Keema, I’d feel bad just riding along with you. Don’t you have work? I wouldn’t want to get in the way…”

  Kee Keema waved his hands, hooked claws and all. “Who cares about work! Once I tell my boss I met a Traveler, why he wouldn’t be mad at me over a little detour.”

  “What’s so great about meeting a Traveler?”

  “Why, it’s the best, most happiest thing that could ever happen to a fellow!” Kee Keema shouted, swinging his arms wildly. He began dancing again. “Frankly, I can’t quite believe my own fortune! When I was a wee one, they used to tell me that Grandpa came across a Traveler once on the outskirts of Takio Town, and right after that he had himself a windfall trading mining stocks. Why, my own Pop went out looking for Travelers once, spent months searching and couldn’t find a thing. So here I come along, thinking to wet Turbo’s throat at the well here, and who do I meet but you!”

  So people from Wataru’s world were like omens of good luck. That made sense, considering Travelers could come only once every ten years. Meeting one would be a rare thing indeed.

  Kee Keema helped Wataru scramble up into the darbaba carriage. He sat by the waterkin’s side. The bench had been fashioned from a single plank of hard wood, and couldn’t exactly be called comfortable. But compared to walking across the endless grasslands, it felt like a seat in paradise.

  “Now you’ll want to tie your waist to the baggage cart with that leather strap there,” Kee Keema cautioned. “I’m used to it so I’m fine, but when Turbo really gets going, the carriage, she rocks a bit.”

  Then with a loud and crisp hyah! and a quick snap of Kee Keema’s whip, they were off. Turbo gave a low bellow and steam arose from his nostrils, reminding Wataru of his mother’s favorite pressure cooker.

  “That’s right, Turbo’s feeling it now!”

  Half of Kee Keema’s words fell short of Wataru’s ears as Turbo launched into motion and the hard seat below Wataru’s rear suddenly transformed into a trampoline. If he hadn’t been holding on so tightly, he would have been bumped up and out and deposited on the ground right then.

  “Hang on!” Kee Keema shouted, grabbing Wataru by the collar and pulling him back to the seat. “Don’t be jumping around like that. Stick out your legs, put little a strength in yer gut.”

  “I’m tr-trying,” Wataru stuttered, barely able to catch his breath for all the jostling. He was being tossed about like a lottery ping-pong ball, afraid to talk for fear he would bite off his tongue. Every time he tried to grab something to hold on to he clutched empty air. It wasn’t just bouncing up and down either. They lurched to the right, then the left, and sometimes curved through the high grasses at an angle so steep Wataru feared they might tip.

  “Can’t you slow down a little?”

  Suddenly, Wataru found himself in the air, his arms and legs flailing uselessly. Then he was landing on Kee Keema’s shoulders, until he was riding the lizard-man piggyback.

  “Ha ha!” Kee Keema laughed with his mouth wide open. “You’re welcome to sit up there if you like, Traveler Wataru!”

  “N-n-no I c-couldn’t! R-really, I-I’ll get off. I’m t-too heavy…”

  “Nonsense! Yer light as a feather.”

  “But, but, but…” But he couldn’t get off even if he wanted to. The waterkin’s skin looked just like a lizard’s, but it wasn’t slippery at all. Rather it was a dry and sturdy, and his neck was just the right size for grasping onto for dear life.

  Wataru found himself wondering how many years it had been since he last rode on his father’s shoulders. His father wasn’t a big sturdy man like Kee Keema, but riding up there, Wataru always felt secure. He would bounce and his father would get angry at him, saying he was too heavy—but Wataru knew he didn’t really mean it. Or did he? Was I too heavy all those years?

  Wataru looked up. Now that he didn’t have to be so worried about falling off at any moment, he could enjoy the scenery a little. As far as he could see everything was grass, glowing like a green saucer catching the sun’s light. The thing like a road Wataru had seen in the distance now seemed to be more of the path worn by the passing of darbaba carriages. It narrowed and widened, at times twisting like a snake, at times lying straight like a white line across the grass, shooting toward the horizon.

  The air was a little gritty, but the feel of the wind on his face and in his hair was exhilarating. Wataru breathed deep and felt like shouting at t
he top of his lungs for no reason at all.

  “Fast, isn’t he?” Kee Keema shouted, turning his head so his voice wouldn’t be entirely lost in the wind.

  “Amazing!”

  “Raised this one from a baby, I did. Best runner in Nacht, or me name’s not Kee Keema!”

  Are we in Nacht now? Is that a country?

  “Kee Keema, do you think you could tell me some things about Vision?”

  “Sure. But, you should know I dropped out of school kinda early, so I might not be able to teach you very good.”

  “You were talking about an empire before, right?” Wataru asked. “That’s in a different place from here?”

  “That it is. And a good thing too.”

  Kee Keema explained that, back before time flowed in an orderly fashion, the land of Vision was born from a swirling rainbow sea. It was the Goddess who first reached down and drew the new land from the waters.

  “And this goddess is the same one that Travelers go to see in the tower? The Goddess of Fate?”

  “Think so. But no one knows the truth of it. No one’s met the Goddess, you see—we don’t even know quite where she is. We only know there’s a place called the Tower of Destiny, somewhere, and that’s her home. It’s a legend.”

  “A legend…”

  It seemed odd to Wataru to find that this land that was something like legends and myths and a fantasy world all jumbled into one would have legends of its own.

  “Does this goddess have a name?”

  “That, I don’t know. Most of the races consider calling her by name a taboo. They don’t teach it in school, and I’m sure no scholar would dare try to research it. But, we waterkin have an old word for the Goddess, it’s Upa de shalba. Means “the one who is beautiful like the light,” he said.

  One as beautiful as the light. An image of Venus, the goddess of beauty, rose in Wataru’s mind. Whatever she really looked like, she was certainly kind. She would have to be if she really sat in the tower waiting for Travelers to arrive and then honored them with any wish they desired.

  “There are two great lands, continents, in Vision,” Kee Keema began to explain. Turbo had slowed somewhat, until he was trotting amiably along.