The Veiled Lotus

By: Crazyeight

Chapter: 01/ The Sign of the Dragon

A/N: The genesis of this story began years and years ago as far back as my childhood, but this modern telling bears very little resemblance to the original material which was little more than a Lord of the Rings rip off (being 9 years old at the time of the idea, this can hardly come as a surprise), and had, before I took it up again about two years ago, never thought I would visit it again. Some reasons for my return to the idea were inspired by a friend who insisted that I revisit old work and modernize it. Another push was with practice work with Ruki44 that got me thinking more about my writing and the ideas I had fermenting in my mind, and further cemented by the rather surprising and positive response that the fantasy story elements in 'A Story for Suzie' received. With that in mind, I took an idea I had – a kind of 'What if the Dragon Balls from Dragon Ball Z were human?' – along with the setting of the world from 'A Story for Suzie,' and planted the idea into it. From there I began developing it.

It took two years and two notebooks for things to begin to crystalize (not helped by the burnout I suffered at the start of it all), but the success with 'A Story for Suzie' inspired me to consider posting this idea as I did before with another similar such work, 'Icon.' As I said before with that story, this isn't quite fanfiction, but it's near enough, operating in the world that Suzie and Henry created, apart from the events and lives of the Tamers in the real world, but no doubt being observed by Hypnos and its events recorded. Due to the nature of this world, it has some peculiarities with time as the events of this story take place at least two hundred years (as a minimum) after the events depicted in this world from 'A Story for Suzie,' though the world 'recycles characters' as its tale continues to unfold. How this story will play out on this site I'm still in debate over, at least in so far as appearances of canon characters go, but my primary reason for posting this here concerns criticism and feedback. I invite people to take this story apart with regards to themes, flow, plot sensibility, grammar, anything (though it should be noted that the characters will not act like the ones from the canon series). As this is a story I want to improve upon, any criticism will be welcome and appreciated as long as it's constructive. It is my hope that this story will be entertaining and, hopefully, give my readers something to enjoy while I get back to work on 'What's Left of You,' for which I apologize for lack of updates of late. I got hit by a particularly bad cold and was down for two weeks.

Until next time.

-Crazyeight

###

Hypnos file 2108, 'Suzie's World': Another time skip. It appears that the Civil War of the Millenium – or as it is known now as 'Mille' – Empire has ended and order is steadily being restored. Focus appears to be on this region of the world as opposed to the eastern realm of Makino/Maki. Recommendation is to continue observation and to elevate alert levels to condition yellow…

###

Henry Wong rocked in the carriage as he turned the page of his book, only half listening to the conversation of two of the three women he rode with while across from him. The third, flame-haired with deep, midnight eyes, gazed thoughtfully at a tablet before her, one hand, ink-stained, rolling a multifaceted device between her fingers. Through the curtain next to the woman on his right, grey-haired, lay a vast valley of fire-red – the fall leaves of Azuma.

"Ahhh…" came the voice of the grey-haired woman – Seiko – as she drew the curtain back, peering outside. "Beautiful, and well worth the side trip. "Rika, you really must see this."

"Mmm…" the fire-haired girl grunted noncommittally, causing her elder to sigh.

"Really, Rika. Your game will still be there after you've looked."

"My thoughts won't be," Rika replied, her eyes remaining fixed on her tablet.

"Don't bother, Mother," Rumiko, the third woman replied, brushing aside a golden lock before scowling at Rika's hand. "Eyes of our Father, young lady. How many times have I told you to wear your glove when you play that game?"

"Don't bother, Mother," Rika quoted back at her absently as she closed her hand about her device. Rumiko scowled at her, and as if sensing it, Rika's eyes swung up to meet hers, their contact as sharp as a blade. Rumiko narrowed her eyes still further in response.

Henry gave a light chuckle and turned another page, long familiar with the quarreling dance between mother and daughter; one who cared about appearances while the other cared about her games.

"Rumiko…" came Seiko's disapproving tone, and the light-haired woman looked back at the matriarch before relenting.

"I expect those hands to be washed and clean before we return home," she declared. "I will not have you greeting your father with hands like that."

"Yes Mother," Rika replied dully, her tone indicating that she wished for the topic to move on to something else.

Two weeks of travel and still no love lost between them, Henry observed, turning the page again. Or gained for that matter.

"Any progress on your puzzle?" he asked Rika, looking up from his book as the carriage began to descend a slope into the sea of crimson leaves. The girl looked up at him from behind her bangs before lowering her device and pressing it down into a black ink pad in answer to his question. Raising it back to the tablet, she stamped her answer onto the sheet of paper attached to it and held it out to Henry, who promptly closed the book.

"Let us see," he said, drawing a red glove on as he took the tablet and took out his own, red ink pad. The paper was lined into grids, upon which a number of characters had been stamped within.

Ahhh… She's taken my word for gold coins and chained it to the word for an egg. Clever. And…insulting.

He turned an amused eye of grey up at Rika, who remained unreadable. Despite the pretense, he knew her well enough to know that excitement undoubtedly coursed through her. Kosube – the War of Words – was her greatest passion, and she relished in competing with someone else's cleverness; twisting and turning words and sentences into their own, or using ones that few knew. Amongst the elite and wealthy and learned of the Mille Empire, it developed from its native homeland of Maki into quite the competitive sport, and Rika held the current title of Kosube champion.

Current title that is, for enthusiasts practiced relentlessly for a shot at the next championship, and as the saying went: One was only as good as their last victory.

"Do you surrender?" Rika asked, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Henry shook his head.

"This is only a small deviation," he replied, holding out his gloved hand for her stamp materials. "Sauce for the goose, dear Rika. You're drawing this out again."

"And how many times have you read that poetry book?"

"To my heart's content," Henry chuckled as Rika handed him the requested items.

"A most appropriate response," Rumiko said with a touch of haughtiness to her voice. "You could learn a thing or two from your fiancé."

"He's taught me what I needed," came Rika's reply as Henry considered his response to her move. "No more than that is necessary."

"My heart weeps for you, Henry," Rumiko sighed in despair. "You have been far too lenient with her. Just because she was your friend in childhood is no reason to allow her tongue to be as a whip. She will rule you."

"I didn't know you were a prophet, my lady," Henry jested with a grin. "In either case, my house could use a good whip."

Rumiko made a disgusted sound at that and threw her hands into the air, prompting Seiko to shake her head ruefully.

"Excess worrying leads to premature wrinkles, Rumiko, so mind your mirror and leave them be." Seiko smiled at the flame-haired girl. "Care to have a look now that your thoughts are no longer distracted?"

"It's just leaves, Grandma."

"Oh, but it's so much like your hair! Kissed by the gods…"

"I liked my old hair better."

Henry adjusted his seating, rolling the stamp about in his gloved palm, watching with bemusement as Seiko continued to try – and fail – to cajole her granddaughter into looking out the window and taking in the sights. A hopeless endeavor, he knew from long experience, as should the elder matriarch. About as much so as it had been with Rumiko.

The two of us will never have a loving marriage, he thought, turning his eyes over to her, meeting hers. She remained unreadable, just like always, yet he knew she would rather be anywhere right now than in a cramped carriage with her mother on a religious pilgrimage. A library or a Kosube table; someplace where her thoughts could be undisturbed and focused on her interests only.

So it had been since her hair changed.

"Well?" Rika prompted, folding her arms together. "You've thought long enough."

"This isn't a match," Rumiko sighed, leaning her chin in one hand, taking in the scenery from outside. "He can take as much time as he pleases."

"But not forever," Rika frowned.

"A few minutes is hardly forever…"

"Sorry," Henry coughed, cutting in before the two could begin their argument again. "I just found your eyes easy to get lost in. I'll make up for it now."

His gaze gave way before Rika's and he flipped her stamp about to the appropriate character to begin his counter, his experienced fingers finding it quickly. Pressing it into the ink pad, he continued speaking.

"Twinkling starlight against the midnight deeps. My heart vanishes as it leaps."

"Your poetry is terrible," Rika replied, though Henry caught an amused curve tugging at the corners of her lips.

A loveless marriage perhaps, but at least we'll remain friends, Henry thought, smiling back.

"You have no appreciation of the arts," Rumiko continued to chime in as Henry stamped the first character before flipping the device about and returning it to the pad.

"So you say, prophetess."

"Don't give me such tongue, little Hell-hair! I have been more than patient with you since passing you out from between my hips! I…!"

"Oh my goodness!" came Seiko's sudden exclaim of surprise. "A dragon!"

That caught everyone's attention, and more so Rika's as her eyes went wide and she shot up to her feet, banging her head on the ceiling of the carriage.

"Owww…" she groaned, tottering a little as Rumiko began to hit the side of the door, signaling for them to stop.

"Halt! Halt! Oh for…"

"Mother!"

Seiko pushed the door to the carriage open and all but tumbled out onto the dirt path. Most undignified, but Seiko paid her appearance no mind, instead hurrying over to the ledge and fell to her knees.

"My lady…" began the captain of the guard, riding up to her. "What are you…? Gods!"

Bringing his horse grinding to a halt, he shouted an alarm to the rest of the troupe and at once drew his sword, the steel flashing in the sunlight. Henry stepped out as Rumiko half hung back in the carriage, her eyes wide with anxiety. Following her gaze, he found the dragon that Seiko had spotted, and he cocked his head to one side, for it was a strange thing, small and colored bright blue and red. Seeing that it held them as a captive audience, it coiled and twisted and spun about, seeming to dance before the gathered crowd.

"I have a shot," said one of the guards, raising a small crossbow.

"You will do no such thing!" Seiko laughed. "This is a sign of the gods, for certain!"

"It's so small…" Henry observed with a raised eyebrow. "Yet it's wingless, like the eldest of its kind."

"And…blue," Rika added, climbing out of the carriage. "I've never heard of one of their kind colored in this manner before. How…? Why?"

Henry found himself laughing aloud at this. Not so much the alien color on the diminutive reptile but rather at her awe. She was definitely fascinated by its oddity!

More life than I've seen from her since setting out.

"A sign from the gods," Seiko repeated, bowing to the dragon as it spun about once more, snorting flames at them, yet keeping its eyes on the crowd all the while. The captain watched it guardedly before approaching Seiko.

"I must get you back into the carriage, my lady," he said. "The danger…"

"Whatever danger it is, hiding inside a tinder box won't change a thing. Now, please! I must interpret this! Rika! Rumiko! Come here!"

"Mother…" came the quavering voice of Rumiko, still inside the carriage, seeming to be rooted inside. Rika, however, hurried on over, eager now to solve this puzzle.

"Blue… Definitely a messenger from the gods," she said confidently. "Blue has often been their sign."

"But what of the red?" Seiko asked. "The color of the west, where the sun sets… Oh!"

As they watched, the dragon, seeming to tire of the attention, twisted in midair once more and shot off. All watched it go, and upon its becoming little more than a black, distant dot on the horizon, Rumiko could be heard letting out a sigh of relief.

"Mount up!" the captain called out before turning to Seiko and Rika. "We should get moving…"

"Captain Ichigo, what lies in that direction?" Seiko asked, turning toward the man, who cocked an eyebrow at her. Henry folded his arms together, already having an idea as to where this was going. Or rather, where they were going.

"I'm not familiar with this area," the captain admitted, looking down the line. "But as I recall from the maps, there's a small village around this area."

"That'd be Wayu," spoke up a young man with a long face and wolfish eyes. Henry turned, recognizing Kazu Shioda, one of the porters assigned to the procession. A companionable fellow he had found about the campfire, though he had a fairly rough attitude and some problems with discipline. "I grew up there. Like the captain said, it's not a very big village, but it's big enough. It's about ten ri or so from here." Shading his eyes, he cast a glance about over the sea of red, following it to a string of blue that broke on the far end, just at the edge of vision. "I recognize the river curve anyway, so…more like ten ri past that."

"Very helpful," Rika said, giving the youth a flat stare. The two had spoken once and, rather famously, not gotten along.

Kazu raised an eyebrow at that.

"And you know anyone else who lived abouts here?" Kazu asked pointedly, obviously annoyed at her tone. Ichigo placed a hand warningly on the hilt of his sword.

"Return to your duties, porter," the man said, and Kazu shrugged nonchalantly before turning away and heading off.

"The nerve of that man," Rumiko growled, now finding the courage to emerge from her shelter. She glared daggers briefly at Kazu's back before turning to Seiko.

"Mother… Please tell me that you're not thinking of going to that man's backwater. We've already fallen behind schedule by detouring on this route in the first place for mere sightseeing. We cannot add to the delay!"

"Perhaps this is the gods' way of giving us the best place to drop Shioda off at without being cruel," Rika said, folding her arms together. "It is infinitely better than keeping him with us, and as merciful a fate as can be allowed for someone like him."

"Now, now," Henry said. "He's only rustic, not a demon."

"That changes nothing! He might as well be a demon!"

Seiko rose to her feet and dusted off her skirts, a small smile on her face at her granddaughter's agitated tone.

"Well, regardless of whether or not the gods would stoop so low as to help rid you of someone you detest, I think we ought to at least head the sign and go see what lies in their village. Rumi… Your father won't mind such an extra delay as long as it's in the service of the gods. Besides, it is only ten ri?"

"That is what he said, yes," Ichigo nodded. "Past the river at any rate, so more like fifteen ri."

"Or more," Rika added, her expression a dark scowl. "I doubt he knows what a ri even is."

"Excess scowling leads to wrinkles, dear," Seiko said in bemusement, making her way over to the carriage. "Ichigo. Connect with Shioda-dan, as he's more familiar with the land and the village. I'd like to arrive there as soon as possible and solve this little mystery."

Rika looked at her mother's retreating back with a ghastly expression before giving herself a light shake.

"Dan? What is he, the prime minister? He's at best only worth a Su!"

"Mind your language and your manners," Rumiko scolded, though just her expression told Henry that she was of like mind to her daughter. Unhappily, the two women moved to join the elder matriarch, with Henry following closely behind.

###

The sun dipped closer toward the horizon as they made their way down into the valley, and still further the longer they went. Kazu cooperated with little trouble, and as the land became more familiar to him, the easier the navigation became, planting them on the borders of Wayu by the time the hills began to turn gold. No longer having his window dominated by the side of a cliff, Henry took in all the sights without distraction.

These fall colors on their own are certainly worth the detour, Henry thought, awed by the mingled colors of red and gold as they began to emerge from the forest. The valley in question, according to Rika, was called Hezua, holding a small reputation for its fall leaves, being the remnants of a garden from some long-ago emperor or god – of which one, the old tales weren't certain and varied from place to place.

"Overall, it is a place of little to no consequence," Rika said, rolling her stamp about in her ink-stained hand as she contemplated Henry's counter to her move. "At least when it comes to the tax collectors. I doubt Shioda's village has seen a regular tax collector in ages."

"Perhaps that is something that needs to be revisited," Rumiko grumbled, clearly irritated in indulging her mother and daughter in their investigation.

"Sounds like an invitation to a real fire here, and not the fall version," Henry pointed out. "If I may be so bold, My Lady, I would hesitate against writing tax policy based on your dislike of a lowly porter. He is, after all, just one man."

"This has nothing to do with the porter!" Rumiko sputtered in exasperation. "Henry, this is a place with untapped potential! Such an increase might invite the villagers to develop the land more. Who knows what wealth lies here!"

"I very much prefer the wealth of beauty they have here," Seiko sighed. "Honestly, Rumiko, I thought you understood the value of beauty in the world. You spent so much time fretting about your appearance as a child."

"She still does," Rika snorted, stamping out two character responses before handing the tablet and stamp over to Henry. Reading them over, he raised an eyebrow.

"Switching gold to scale now? You've got dragons on your mind now?"

"I don't see why I shouldn't," Rika shrugged nonchalantly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Now hurry up and make your move, or else I'll take my win. We're almost at the village."

"Not to mention almost out of room," Henry noted, flicking his eyes down to the tablet. "You control the most territory as well. You'll have me cut off from the northern end shortly, and then I won't be able to advance."

Rika grinned noticeably at that. "The best you can do is win the south, but that won't be enough by an arrow shot."

"So it would seem," Henry nodded, rubbing at his chin thoughtfully as he contemplated the tablet. No matter how he looked at it, he couldn't see a way out of it. The only way he could prevent Rika from cutting him off in the north involved a complicated, longform sentence of approximately thirteen characters. Rika's stamp, fortunately had twenty for them to work from – a fairly standard game stamp for them to use, though considered something of a handicap in a professional setting – giving them enough combinations to work from for most purposes, but thirteen characters to make a coherent longform sentence?

If we were able to use kana it'd be a different story, he mused as he sweated his mind for something he could use. Unfortunately, Rika played by tournament rules. Casual usage wasn't allowed, as she didn't want to become reliant on the easier path to think around problems. And, of course, her deliberate handicapping of their game to make it all the harder…

He smiled. Of course, that was just like Rika to make things more difficult to push herself to new heights.

Raising the stamp before him, he turned it over, inspecting each of the twenty characters, hoping for some kind of inspiration. Alas, none came.

"Do you forfeit?" Rika asked, her grin growing. Henry sighed, wondering if it really was time to admit the inevitable. Rumiko made a disgusted sound, but said nothing. Henry sighed and looked back at Rika.

"I forfeit," he said. "You're just too good at this."

"Practice makes perfect," Rika beamed, taking back the tablet and tearing off the sheet of paper, taking it in with a critical eye.

"Only 75 squares," she muttered, calculating her score. "Six complex sentences in them…" She tsked to herself. "I'm losing my touch."

"Or maybe he played a better game than you're used to," Seiko suggested. "I am certain he has learned a great deal from you as well over these past weeks."

"Please, My Lady," Henry laughed. "You're making me blush. But I will admit, Rika is an excellent player to learn from."

"Flattery won't get you anywhere," Rika said, shaking her head. "I need to consider this and plan out a new strategy. Perhaps a more forceful beginning…"

Rika lapsed into silence and placed the results of their game in her lap, her dark eyes tracing over every character and line, replaying their moves and counters in her mind. Rika had a good memory for such things, as she was wont to with anything she felt a passion for.

She would make an excellent archivist or translator… Really, anything she tried her hand at, if she so chose. If she just had the desire…

He could understand Rumiko's frustration with her daughter. The young lady, heiress to Rumiko's husband and the lord of the province of Shiju, showed little desire for statecraft, and this absence being one of the primary reasons why she and Henry were now engaged to be married, so that there would be someone to help handle the business of governing. Not that Henry had much in the way of such experience himself, but he ran a highly successful business – an inheritance from his father that would likely prove beneficial – and was fine with learning from Rumiko and Seiko the ins and outs of ensuring that their little corner of the empire ran smoothly. He did well enough, he supposed, though Rumiko often reminded him that there was one governance he was failing in, and that was in the handling of his soon-to-be wife.

Truth be told though, he thought, his gaze settling on Rika as she poked an ink-stained finger at her lip, her mind in deep thought now, I would rather that the two of us return to as we were, and that all I had to worry about was my business and nothing else.

Time came and went, during which the village steadily began to emerge, houses sprouting like trees in open fields before a cluster of them swept into view around the corner of a rocky hill. Small, just as Kazu and Ichigo had described, but large enough to hold at most a two hundred people, if not slightly less. Yet it appeared industrious enough with people moving about this way and that with much bustle in the streets. Smoke rose from chimneys, and there could be heard laughter in the air. Children at play by the sounds of things. Henry smiled at that. Perhaps this mystery of the dragon would be solved without too many complications.

"Make way!" Ichigo called out as they rode into the town. "Make way for the Ladies Hata and Makino!"

As expected of them, many villagers quickly ducked to the side and dropped to their knees, kneeling in obeisance, though at least one, a tall, dark-skinned man with a mess of brown hair, remained standing. A sword was girted at his side and he had a wedge-shaped mark upon the breast of his shirt. Henry lifted an eyebrow at that, recognizing the mon as belonging to a clan now long gone.

A Mifune errant is here, he thought, watching as the man bowed his head politely in reverence, but bent no knee. This would be of no concern to Seiko's guards. The sword and symbol alone marked his station, and even being an errant wouldn't change that. Knights knelt to none save lords and emperors.

Still, the fact that he was errant left Henry with the feeling that the man needed to have an eye kept on him.

Too bad my father's sword is stowed away in a trunk, he mused bitterly, suddenly feeling as though he were naked.

They left the errant behind however, and Henry was able to put him out of his mind, allowing him to turn his attention to other things.

"So what's the plan?" he asked Seiko. "It's getting late, and I don't believe that there's an inn here in a village this small. We have a whole troop of guards with us after all."

"I am certain that the villagers will be more than amiable to housing some of our men," Rumiko said, though it was plain in her voice that she didn't relish the idea.

"For now, we continue on as normal," Seiko replied instead to Henry's question. "But keep a sharp eye out for any further signs. I am certain that another one is bound to appear."

"And if we don't find one?"

"Then we continue on until we need to make camp," Seiko answered, though her own tone suggested she wasn't any keener than Rumiko on the notion of sharing a roof with a villager."

"Fine by me," Rumiko yawned, fanning a hand in front of her mouth. "I'd rather sit in the caravan again. At least the air would still be fresh."

Henry adjusted his seating and turned to Rika. She was still focused on the paper in front of her, ink-stained fingers working as she hastily ran them along her characters, mouthing the words in the reverse order of their flow. A smirk touched the corners of his lips and he nudged her ankle with his foot.

"It seems that you've won my heart as well as the game, my lovely little fire," he teased.

Rika jolted in place and she jerked her head up, eyes wide and cheeks rapidly blooming bright red. Quickly, she withdrew her feet from his touch, and she scowled at him.

"Don't do that!"

"Sorry," Henry chuckled apologetically, though inwardly he found his little prank worth her reaction. "What are we supposed to be looking for in terms of signs by the way?"

"I…what?" Rika blinked and then her lips formed an 'O' with her mouth, remembering their purpose for being here. "Well… The dragon is colored blue and red, so I should think… Oof!"

The carriage jerked suddenly, causing the four passengers to grab hold of the side to keep from falling forward. Furious, Rumiko threw the door open and stepped out.

"What is the meaning of…?" she began, only to halt, her eyes growing wide. Curious, Rika and Henry both looked outside of their end, but found nothing. The guard had halted of course, but there didn't appear to be anything that could startle the woman. On either side of the street that they could see where houses of the usual kind found in villages plus what appeared to be a bakehouse.

"Must be something on her side," Rika muttered, clambering her way down to the other door as Seiko proceeded to climb out. Before the fire-haired girl reached the other end, Seiko's eyes went wide and she gasped.

"Oh… Oh my. I didn't think it would be literal."

His curiosity spiked, Henry quickly followed after Rika, and at once he saw what it was that had caught Rumiko's attention and, no doubt, Captain Ichigo's. Hanging on the side of the bakehouse was a sign displaying a painted, red and blue colored dragon. He didn't even have to be close to know that's what it was. The winding, serpentine appearance coupled with the colors told him all that he needed to know.

Rumiko seethed for only a moment, her teeth grinding together before she suddenly burst forth, storming down the street in the direction of the bakehouse.

"Who…dares?!" she shouted as her guards began to crowd around the sign. Captain Ichigo stepped into view, placing a waylaying hand in front of him.

"My Lady, we will investigate…"

"Investigate and hang them!" she growled, and Henry stiffened at that. Looking about, he saw that a number of villagers were raising their heads, looking more than a little alarmed at this.

"Rumiko…" Seiko breathed softly, starting forward in the hopes of quelling her daughter's temper.

"This is a crime against the empire!" Rumiko continued. "The Imperial Dragon is only to be displayed by representatives of the emperor and no one else! Not even the guilds in his service! I want whoever's responsible for this out here now!"

"Already ahead of you on that," Ichigo nodded solemnly, turning toward the bakehouse as two of his men banged on the door. Kazu rounded about one of the horses, his eyes wide with alarm.

"Hey! What the seven hells is going on here? What's this I hear about killing someone over a stupid pai-?"

The youth suddenly found his voice drying up at the sight of Ichigo's sword loosening in its sheath. Stumbling backward, he raised his hands just as the door to the bakehouse opened and the guards rushed in, earning them a startled and frightened scream from within.

"Hoy, hoy… This is getting pretty tall, pretty fast…"

"Don't lay a hand on that young man or even think about drawing your sword!" Seiko thundered, though this was something of an overstatement. The elder matriarch, in sharp contrast to her daughter, did not shout, but her voice was raised just enough to catch everyone's attention. Ichigo turned toward her, hand still on his sword hilt. Folding her hands together, Seiko quickly composed herself.

"Now, would someone care to explain what the meaning of all this is?"

As if in answer, there came another scream from inside the bakehouse and at once one of the guards emerged, throwing a brown-haired, round-faced woman to the ground. There was another cry from within followed by the sound of repeated crashes and the woman immediately tried to rise, her eyes full of horror.

"Takehiro!" she shouted as more guards rushed inside.

"Do not slay him!" Seiko shouted now, striding toward the woman. "Or anyone that is inside!" Turning toward the fallen woman, she knelt down and took hold of her by the shoulders, helping her rise. "I'm sorry. I am sure this is all some misunderstanding. I…"

The guards forced a tall, lankly man with an angular face out of the bakehouse. His forehead was bleeding from a split just underneath his hairline.

"Here they are," one of the guards said. "We're checking the rest of the place for strag…"

"We've got another one!" shouted one of the men still inside. "Got you, you little rat! I… Hey! Gods teeth, I'll… Get back here, you little bastard!"

A young, brown-haired boy burst free from the bakery, holding a broom in his hands as though it were a mallet, sunset-eyes wild and darting about, taking in the situation around him. The two bakers – his mother and father Henry thought, judging from the resemblance – surrounded by armed strangers caused him to break forward at a run, raising the broom while giving a fierce battle cry.

He was tackled from behind before managing two steps from a decidedly angry-looking guard, his helm sporting a slight dent on its surface.

"Got you, you shit!" he snarled, the two of them slamming to the ground, the guard on top. "You're not getting away now!"

The boy threw himself about wildly, twisting this way and that in an attempt to throw the guard off of him. The man bore down on him, grabbing hold of a flailing arm and twisting it tight against his back, threatening to snap it. The boy screamed, pain shooting through his whole body and causing him to go rigid.

"Takato!" came the cry of Kazu, dashing under Ichigo's blade, only to be grabbed by two more of the caravan's escorts, hurling him down and pinning him. Kazu struggled against their grasp, his eyes blazing angrily.

"Damn you…" He growled before his voice grew louder. "Damn you! Damn you fuckers! Damn…!"

"Shut him up!" Rumiko stormed toward the fallen porter. "Show these villagers what it means to break the laws of the empi…!"

"That's enough!"

Henry felt Rika jerk next to him, as if struck by some unseen force that lay behind Seiko's voice, and then the sky darkened visibly for but a moment before brightening again, a cloud passing in front of the sun. It all happened too quick and too fast that neither one of them had been able to follow what was going on until Seiko intervened.

All eyes fell on the Hata as she drew the baking woman up with her, where she promptly dusted her off. Once she was certain she was all right, she let her go and the baking woman immediately ran over to the man – Takehiro, Henry assumed – the two collapsing into one another's arms. Seiko's furious eyes went first over to Kazu and then to Takato.

"Release those two."

"My Lady…" began Ichigo, only to be silenced by a single glare.

"This is not open to debate! Release them."

Ichigo held her gaze for a moment before nodding to each of his guards in turn, letting both youths up. Kazu hurried over to Takato, who looked over at his parents, a baffled and worried expression on his face.

"Send for the doctor to see to that man's injury," Seiko said before turning to the guards surrounding them. "Which of you harmed him?"

They looked back and forth between each other, as if surprised by the question. Seiko narrowed her eyes, clearly not pleased with the lack of response.

"Very well. You who are gathered here have all forfeited your pay until the one responsible comes forth."

"Mother…" began Rumiko, only for her words to grind to a halt upon Seiko's gaze.

"We are civilized!" she said, her tone hard and unforgiving. "We are not some barbarians, Rumiko and we will uphold that. The wife of a great lord does not dole out death for every infraction! We must first see if they are even worthy of such a fate, and you have not done that!" Seiko's eyes were dark as she met her daughter's gaze. "Your husband will be having words with you when we return home."

"Mother!" Rumiko exploded. "That sign… It is a state crime for a commoner to use the Imperial Dragon! There can only be one result!"

"Let us see, first. Until then, you are to keep your mouth shut."

Taking a deep breath, Seiko turned and gave the two bakers an apologetic look.

"I am deeply sorry for what has transpired here," she said, bowing respectfully. "This shouldn't have happened. However, I'm afraid that I must inquire into this, now that the situation has been forced. Answer me honestly and fully so that we may get to the bottom of this, and I promise, you will see leniency from me, as a member of the House of Hata and representative of our Lord's will in these lands."

The man and woman – husband and wife it seemed, by the looks of things – glanced at each other worriedly as the troop's doctor came hurrying up now before looking back at her. Seiko looked back and forth between them, equally not liking this lack of response.

"I am of the House of Hata!" she repeated. "Our word is binding, and where we go, we carry the will and justice of the emperor! Will you take your oaths to speak the truth?"

The two looked at each other again, their eyes searching before Takehiro drew the now shaking woman close to him, his eyes firm as they met Seiko's.

"We swear," he said. Seiko nodded.

"Very well," she said, turning to one of the guards. "Fetch me my robe."

###

In Mille's courts and among its enforcers, there are two kinds of robes, one black and one white. The black for those officers who deal in the protection and upholding of the law on the streets, and the white for those that sit on the bench, dispensing justice towards those brought in by the Black. Only the Black was permitted to carry swords, but both carried the jitte, a steel rod with a blunted hook on the side; a symbol of the law and the emperor's will. Of the two, only the White were allowed to dispense final justice and represented the purity of the law's spirit. Not even they were above its reach.

Seiko Hata was a third-generation wearer of the White, and in the capital of Shiju accumulated quite the reputation for being just and fair to the best of her ability. Whether that meant anything out here, she couldn't say, but she was determined to render a fair judgment, if only to satiate Rumiko's anger and prevent further bloodshed. How well that would go over, she couldn't begin to guess, but this was the best they could do for now.

It is times like this that I am grateful I never passed the office to my daughter, Seiko thought as she pulled her robe on and drew out her jitte. Shiju would be a bloodbath if she had her way.

Settling herself on a small blanket in the road, she coughed politely.

"Let us begin," she said. "You, Takehiro, Mie and Takato Matsuki, stand accused of using the Imperial Dragon as a means of advertisement for your establishment. This charge, the use of the Imperial Dragon for your own purposes, must be addressed. Explain yourselves."

"I offer my apologies, My Lady," Takehiro said, kneeling before her and bowing deeply. "Our business… Things have been a fair tight these past two winters, and we were looking for a way to catch the eye of travelers who pass through. Our son…"

"Your son?" she turned toward the youth, who stood behind the man, his mother by his side, appearing quite contrite and even afraid, his eyes never sitting still and always looking about, no doubt seeing only the wall of swords hemming them in, wondering how things would turn out if a guilty verdict were reached. Seiko pressed her lips together into one thin line. He couldn't have been much older than Rika.

Leaving him briefly, she cast her gaze over to Mie, taking in her shaking body. Her face remained as stone, but a part of her found herself thinking of her own daughter.

Once upon a time, I feared I had lost her.

Willing her heart to become hard, she returned her attention to Takehioro as he began to answer.

"Y-Yes," Takehiro grimaced, looking for all the world that he didn't say that, but his oath bound him. "He had come up with an idea, a sign like the Shioda's, who run an inn just down the road. He felt that it might make things more enticing."

Henry, who stood over by the sign, admiring its handiwork, raised an eyebrow at that.

"It's true!" Takato exploded, breaking his silence. "It was my idea, just like my father says! Please don't punish them for…for my mistakes!"

"I have not called upon you to speak," Seiko said sternly. "But since you have done so, I call upon you now. Come forth, young man, and speak the truth."

Swallowing nervously, Takato approached her, a tremor working through his body as he did her bidding. His eyes were downcast, remaining firmly rooted at his feet. Seiko found herself immediately reminded of other children she had known in her life; how they became quiet and fearful of punishment. Takato, of course, was no child, though he appeared to be almost grown out of it. And of course, she herself, was no mere parent who would raise her voice or stripe across his skin with a paddle.

"Young man. Look at me."

The boy nervously turned his gaze up, meeting her eyes. It was obviously painful for him, as his mouth shook and his eyes struggled to maintain contact. Not for the first time did Seiko feel like an ogre about to crush a village beneath his feet.

"Tell me your name."

Takato blinked, and tilted his head to one side questioningly. She already knew his name. Why did she need it again?

She gave him a small smile, asking him silently to humor her.

"T-Takato, My Lady."

"How old are you?"

"Fifteen…Fifteen summers, My Lady. I was born during the high harvest, month of the owl, by our reckoning."

"With the constellation of the harvest scythe and a golden moon in the sky, no doubt," Seiko smiled, thinking of her granddaughter, who had been born on a similar day.

"I… Yes, My Lady," Takato nodded, his eyes wide. He looked deathly pale, no doubt wondering if that would somehow be held against him.

Not unless being born on a day is a crime, Seiko thought humorously.

"So, just shy of becoming a man," she continued, to which Takato nodded numbly.

"This year," he acknowledged. Seiko heard his mother draw a sharp breath at that, seemingly giving him a silent scolding for revealing that.

"I see." She glanced at the sign Henry stood by. "And you acknowledge that the dragon is your work?"

"It is, My Lady." Takato dropped his eyes briefly before jerking them back up, afraid that even a single sign of weakness would cause the matriarch to strike at him like a serpent.

"Please, My Lady," interceded Takehiro. "He's still just a boy, even if only for a few months. I swear, he meant no…"

"You were not called upon," Seiko interrupted with a sharp glare in his direction before returning her attention to Takato, her face shifting quickly to a pleasant appearance, warm and welcoming.

"Your sign is very well done," she complimented. "How did you get the colors?"

"I…I made them." Takato shifted on one foot, scratching the back of his head. "Well…I mean, all except the blue and yellow. Those were dyes. A merchant had an accident here while he was passing through. Broke the barrels. I thought it would be a waste if he just threw out what was left, and the color looked so…" He paused, and then flushed. "I'm sorry, My Lady. I… I sometimes talk too much."

"Here, the more you talk, the better it may be for you, especially if you are honest." Seiko smiled briefly before her face became firm again. "Did you know you were breaking the law when you made that dragon?"

"I…" Takato seemed to shrink and shook his head fiercely, yet he held her attention. "No. I didn't know about that. I've seen dragons before… Well, paintings and statues of them I mean, and no one's ever said anything about them breaking the law."

"Where? From whom?"

Takato bit his lower lip, becoming hesitant.

"Takato, the more you tell me the truth, the better it will be for you," Seiko reminded, though inwardly, she knew that might not be the case. She had seen many men and women go to the hangman's noose for speaking the truth.

She felt, however, that the truth would be more this young man's ally in this case.

"I… Just…around," Takato flapped his hands uselessly. "On kites during festivals. Statues in big towns when we go to trade for supplies. The big buildings. Places like that."

Seiko eyed the youth with bemusement before leaning back, running her hands along her knees.

"I see," she said. "Well then. Consider this a lesson for you, young man. The Imperial Dragon represents generations of authority handed down to the emperor from the divine. The kites you see… The statues as well, are made in reverence to the Emperor's Order and appear where appropriate to represent that order and his will throughout the land. It is inappropriate for a commoner such as yourself to appropriate that will for themselves. Do you know what 'appropriate' means?"

"It…sounds like stealing," Takato swallowed.

"Yes," Seiko nodded, pleased by this. "And stealing from the Emperor carries a very heavy penalty."

She saw Takehiro stiffen up next to him, and behind him, Mie looked to be on the verge of breaking down into tears. It was a sight she was all too familiar with.

"A heavy penalty?" Takato glanced down at his feet briefly before returning his gaze to Seiko's, and although he looked as though he were about ready to faint, he kept eye contact and managed to remain steady on his feet. "What do I have to do?"

Seiko steeled herself. "Punishment for appropriating the Emperor's Will is, under normal circumstances, punishable by death."

"Takato!" Mie cried out, collapsing to her knees and burying her face in her hands. Now Takato wavered, his eyes glazing over for just a second before he jerked back to attention. Takehiro lowered his head, his teeth clenched painfully against one another, hot tears slipping free from one eye, his fingers digging into his son's shoulder.

"However," Seiko continued over their shock, and at once Takehiro's face lifted back up, blinking with hope behind his blurred vision, "I am willing to make an allowance here. Your youth and isolation are factors to be taken into consideration. Mistaken crimes are understandable."

A deathly silence hung over the gathered crowd, stunned, it seemed, most notably with Takato and his parents. Did they hear her correctly? She wasn't going to execute anyone?

"At least take his hand," she heard Rumiko mutter from off to the side, but Seiko ignored her.

"Nonetheless, punishment must be meted out, so that you may learn your lesson and engrave it upon your soul so that you don't repeat your mistake."

"If I may make a suggestion?"

Seiko looked up to see Henry approaching, and she lifted an eyebrow at him. Rumiko snorted.

"And why should my mother ask for it?" she asked, folding her arms together. Seiko waved her off dismissively.

"This is an unusual situation. Very well. Let's hear what you have to say."

"To begin with," Henry began, taking a step closer, "I would like to repeat what you said before about the sign being well done. It is well done. Takato shows talent, and if given proper tutelage, could be made better."

"Ahhh…" A small smile grew upon the judge's mouth and she laced her fingers together. "I see what you mean."

"I…I don't understand…" Mie began, climbing to her feet and rubbing at her eyes. "You won't kill him…?"

"No," Seiko shook her head. "But I have reached a fitting punishment for him. One that will make use of his talents and not leave them to waste."

At this, Rumiko stirred, but for the moment, said nothing. Mie drew up next to her son and husband, the three of them looking no less confused than before.

"Yes," Seiko continued. "I believe his talents will best repay the Empire for his crime by serving it."

Mie stiffened in dawning realization.

"He is my son! Not some…some beast to be sold at the market!"

"Wait, what?" began Takato, his eyes growing wide. "I'm…I'm going to be a slave?"

"Indentured servant," corrected Rika. "It's either that or a hand."

She shot a look over at her mother, clearly indicating what she thought of that suggestion, having overheard it, before returning her gaze over to the small family.

"Well? Which shall it be?"

Takato shuddered before taking a step forward, his father's hand falling away as Mie reached out to stop him. Her hand grabbed hold of him tightly, fingers digging into his arm, but a bit of color had returned to the youth's face.

"How long will I be gone?"

"I'll need to draw up a contract and calculate a few things, but…" Henry looked at him regretfully. "It's safe to say that it will be a while. A long while. You won't be released in a year, that much is certain. Or even two."

The two held each other's gaze for a moment before Takato nodded in resignation.

"Okay… I'll do it."

"It seems judgment has been made," Seiko said, getting up from her spot and brushing herself off. "Henry," she began starting back to her carriage. "I'll leave the remainder of the details to you."

"Mother…"

"Not a word, Rumiko," Seiko interrupted, rounding a corner. "Captain Ichigo, please be so kind as to find us accommodations until the final details of this matter have been resolved."

"Mother, listen to me…" Rumiko began, following after her. "What you've done… That can hardly be called a punishment!"

"No, you listen to me, daughter." Whirling about, Seiko stabbed a finger in Rumiko's face, causing the light-haired woman to draw up short in surprise. "This is a backwater village. I have reason to doubt the people living here even know about the laws of the empire."

"That's no excuse! Knowing or unknowing, they broke the law! You are always saying…!"

"Do not lecture me about the law! My job is to cast judgement on whether or not someone's actions deserve punishment! They weren't hurting anyone! We could have overlooked this or at most just given them a friendly warning!" Shaking her head, she retracted her hand and pressed it against her face. "You are the wife of a great lord, and you have muddied things up!"

"I will not apologize for this," Rumiko breathed, her nostrils flaring. "I did my duty. I have no reason to be ashamed for doing so."

With that said, Rumiko whirled about and stormed off. Seiko sighed and shook her head, not for the first time wondering just where and how she went wrong with her.

She heard the soft sound of footsteps approaching from behind, and quickly composing herself, she turned to find Henry approaching, the bakehouses sign tucked under his arm.

"Ichigo wanted this destroyed," he said, drawing it out for her to see. "I thought it might be better to confiscate it instead."

Seiko took a step toward it, her eyes thoughtful. "We should ask about this dragon. It couldn't have been a coincidence that such a creature with this likeness appeared when it did."

"I think we are more likely to get something out of our new acquisition than anyone else at the moment," Henry said, gesturing with his head over in the direction of the boy, who was presently with his family, the three of them, holding onto each other tightly. The woman was the most distraught, sobbing loudly into her son's shoulder as she clutched him against her. Seiko bit her lower lip at the sight, having seen it far too often in her years as a wearer of the White.

I had hoped that this trip would have given me a break from all of that, but fate it seems had other plans.

For her, that was the only way she could stomach breaking up their family.

"Perhaps," Seiko sighed, looking away. "I would like to add a little contribution of my own for his service."

Henry raised an eyebrow at that. "Rumiko won't like that."

"My daughter can go hang herself then," Seiko sniffed before wincing at her words.

"That was out of turn," she said, composing herself. "I am sorry."

"Don't worry," Henry chuckled. "I doubt Rika will demand your life as payment."

"If it weren't for that dragon, I would think that this whole trip was a mistake. Yet…a part of me can't help but wonder if this is some kind of cruel joke from the gods. They tend to have an unusual sense of humor."

"A fox lies best in bed," quoted Henry in agreement. "Still, it would seem that we're benefiting a great deal from their joke."

"You mean you are benefiting."

Henry grinned at that. "Well, maybe. But…" He hefted the sign indicatively. "…perhaps time will tell. And sooner than we think."

Seiko tilted her head questioningly at that. "That… Henry." She narrowed her eyes. "You…don't think what we saw was a messenger from the gods."

"Time will tell," Henry repeated, starting away. "I'm just thinking for now."

"Henry, you have such odd thoughts at times."

Henry laughed at that. "Odd thoughts build things, My Lady. I'm taking a gamble that this one is correct, but if not, I still win. It'll be nice to have an extra pair of hands around the workplace. Anyway, I'd better get this stowed away before I get to work on the contract."

Seiko watched him go to the caravan that lay behind the carriage before adjusting her robes, returning to her trek. Arriving quickly at the carriage, she opened it and quickly climbed in, closing the door behind her with a sharp click. Taking a deep breath to still her mind, she reflected on events, weighing them in her mind. Did she do the right thing? Was it right to leave this common boy in the hands of Henry and her granddaughter?

Judgment has already been pronounced, she thought. No turning back now.

After a moment, she reached into a compartment next to her and drew out a pad of paper, a quill and a small bottle of ink. A bit old fashioned, she knew, but she preferred the more personal touch of using her own signature rather than the stamps preferred by others belonging to the various crusts of society. Laying the pad across her lap, she inspected the quill point before opening up the bottle. Dipping the quill into the black liquid, she set it to the sheet and began to scratch out a message to Rumiko's husband, informing him of their delay, apologizing for it and that she would explain everything to him upon their arrival.

Once she finished signing off, she drew out another bottle, this one containing a fine powder. She sprinkled it on the letter, muttering words under her breath as she did so. The sheet shook slightly under her touch, and then, once the ink had dried, proceeded to fold itself up, taking the shape of a bird. Once completed, it looked up at the woman and tilted its head to one side. Seiko imagined it blinking at her, as its real-life counterparts would have done.

"Go," she said, tapping a finger on its beak. "The Lord Makino of Shiju-Iito awaits you."

The 'bird' flapped its wings with a crinkle and then shot off into the rising darkness of the night, leaving Seiko alone with her thoughts.

16