The Blooms of Shenkuu: Legacies

     “What a dutiful sister, being so dedicated to her sister’s health,” the Nimmo Lord of the Rising Wind Province mused, before sampling a delicate pink sliver of sushi that had appeared before him on yet another platter of regional delicacies.

     “That she may be,” a stout Quiggle with a blossom embossed golden jacket retorted, “but does she not neglect her place as a daughter and heiress? A young woman in such an auspicious position must be attuned to the way her actions appear, she should pay more attention to her image.”

     “You mean she should pay more attention to you, you sly old thing,” a plainly garbed Mynci teased. He dressed simply, but his golden rings and silk adornments marked him as a high-ranking lord from the Crescent Isle. The others chuckled, and he continued merrily. “I for one am partial to the rumour that she never returned the first time she disappeared, and she’s been replaced with a handmaiden. A straw heir.”

     The rest of them chuckled, but quietly. The Lord of Crescent Isle was known for pushing the limits of what should be said aloud. They all knew the price of peace was a short leash.

     “This sushi is quite delicious,” the Lord Nimmo said to change the subject, “what a host the Emperor is.” And with that, he popped a spicy Mynci sushi piece in his mouth and chewed rather than speculated.

     *

     Across the room, a slender Ruki handmaiden in a mask of white makeup kneeled behind the cushion where Lady Red the Kyrii sat toward the back of the room, near the musicians.

     “The Emperor asks if you could start your performance early this evening, to keep the guests entertained.”

     Lady Red knew this meant to keep the guests quiet. She looked across the room and nodded to the Emperor. He remained stony-faced, but his eyes smiled at her in recognition. Her troupe was one of his favorite theatrical events of the season, he had once announced.

     With a quick signal to her girls, they swiftly and silently took their positions. The attendants lowered the ambient lanterns and set them into the circle, creating a performance ring. The twang of lute strings signaled the show was about to begin.

     Lady Red had trained all of her girls in multiple dramatic and musical arts as well as developing their specialities. Kya could sing, both traditional opera and the ancient throat-singing of her ancestors, Sheiwa and Reia did advanced aerial acrobatics and tumbling, Meilin was skilled at puppetry and shadow art, and Hiraki could juggle and contort herself into miraculous shapes. There were always a handful of younger girls in training, each choosing a specific art form to apprentice in. And of course, being the traveling women of the Scarlet Curtain, and having to make their own way in the world without high walls to protect them, they were all experts in the art of charm, which was useful in almost any situation.

     That evening, they would be performing a play in five acts that told the story of a famous mercenary swordsman during the age of warring provinces, before the Emperor had unified Shenkuu and opened its borders. This heroic swordsman was a popular legend and the tale a favorite of the Lords, who idealized the days when lands were uncharted, power was constantly shifting, and a man could change his fortune like tides. It was not the Emperor’s favourite play, but he had approved it, knowing how happy it would make his guests. The Emperor was a shrewd Gelert and knew the careful balancing act he must perform. And so, thought Lady Red, did she.

     The play and its beautiful, talented performers became the topic of conversation as the banquet carried on into the evening, and the lords and ladies took strolls around the palace gardens, enjoying the fireworks that burst above their heads. It was quite an auspicious evening, most agreed.

     “I particularly liked the tumbling and fight scenes,” chirped the Lady of the Bearded Mountain. “I’ve never seen performers use swords so well on the stage, I almost covered my eyes in fear for the swordsman, although I knew the scene well.”

     “Yes,” the old, wispy Kyrii Lord from the Valley of Snowy Wind murmured. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a theatrical troupe perform with real weapons!”

     *****

     “Tell me everything again, from the beginning,” Lunara said, her jewelled headpiece shining in the lamplight beside her sister’s bed.

     The little Vandagyre started again, a confusing tale of jewel eggs, Gikerot breakfasts, difficult vocabulary lessons, walking flowers, and waking up in trees. It was hard to get the full story from the distraught Vandagyre.

     Lunara had been consoling the littlest princess since they returned from the garden. There were tears, gasps, and many rambling asides. She might have dismissed it all as the invention of an excitable child, but parts of her story were corroborated with physical evidence: the pale stone egg, and Chi. The Quilin had appeared in the room shortly after Kimi and Lunara closed the door behind the palace physician. The child would recover from her head bump in a day or two, he had pronounced. It was just a jostle. As for the flying and the memory loss, well, that would also improve in time.

     But Lunara had never seen Chi alone before, and she took it as a bad portent. Chi without the Priestess, a Lunar new year celebration without the Priestess, these were uncommon phenomena. Strange happenings. Her father had mentioned that the Priestess would be late to the festival this year because she was ‘travelling’. That piece of information did not soothe her now as it had the previous day, instead it alarmed her with its vagueness. Lunara wanted to be as nonchalant as her father, but he hadn’t seen Kimi fall from that tree. If there was one thing her little sister had in spades, it was aerial skills.

     She was sure that Chi knew something. Umbra would not stop whizzing around nervously. Lords! If only petpets could talk. She could always read her petpet’s mood, but communication between them was an imprecise art. Just when she thought the Kazeriu was hungry, she would realize she actually wanted to go outside and play in the fountain. And now Chi was sitting extremely still next to Kimi, staring at her intently, as if he were willing her to understand something she could not. The Quilin’s green eyes were bright, swirling with what seemed like liquid moonlight, though the night was dark.

     She wasn’t sure if the pale egg stone was important or not. She had tried holding it herself, and nothing happened. She had tried listening to it, but not a whisper. She had put it in front of the Quilin, but it had merely kept staring at her with its impenetrable, swirling eyes. As a last-ditch effort, she had had her little sister stand on a pile of pillows on the bed and try jumping into the air and fluttering a bit. But Kimi just flopped straight into the bed.

     “I’m a relic, Lunara,” she said with a dramatic sigh, “I’m no use to anyone now.”

     “We haven’t tried everything yet, Petals. Don’t be such a drama princess. We won’t give up. We’ll find the answer, together,” Lunara said, absent-mindedly touching the amulet she wore, buried in her soft purple throat fur. She suddenly had an idea.

     “Wait! Show me that egg again.”

     Kimi reluctantly pulled the egg on its chain from around her neck. “We already did this Lunara. I’m getting tired, I think we should just go to bed.”

     Lunara pulled her amulet from around her neck and put the two of them next to each other on the bed, holding the lantern close. The gold flecks in the blue lapis stone of the amulet made it look like she had plucked a piece of night sky and laid it on the bedspread.

     Kimi stared at her sister’s jewellery, and then pulled a grumpy face and started to whine. “Lun-ar-aaa, why do you get all the prettiest things? Just because you’re the crown … “

     “Oh be quiet, and look!” she said. “The chains. See?”

     The chains winked back in the light uniformly, their curved metal links equally worn and the same shape and aged copper colour.

     “They could have been cut from the same strand, I think.” Lunara looked at her sister excitedly. “I know where we should look for clues.”

     “I don’t understand. Where did you get it from? What is it? It looks old and valuable.”

     “I have a lot to tell you, but first, put on your slippers,” the Cybunny whispered, “I’m going to show you something, something I haven’t shared with anyone, ever.”

     The thrill of a secret propelled Kim from bed, her tiredness forgotten, her headache a mere memory. But not to be outdone, she quickly snatched up her egg stone and pulled it back around her neck. “Where are we going?” she asked.

     “The secret passage.” And with that, the princesses grasped each other’s paws, and pulled back the screen door to the hall. All the guards must have been busy at the banquet. Quietly thanking the stars for their luck, Lunara led her sister down the staircase to the place where she had discovered her magical amulet.

     The palace was an unusual building for Shenkuu, in that it had three floors, whereas most buildings in the city were a single level, apart from pagodas, the Lunar temple and lookout towers. The palace was divided into rooms by panels made of thick paper and bamboo lattices. Lunara took Kimi to the bottom of the south tower, crouched down in a corner and pushed on a lattice panel, which gave way to a dark space.

     “How did you find it?” Kimi said warily. “Are you sure it’s quite safe?”

     “Sssh,” Lunara hushed her. The muffled sounds of a lute-playing came through the far screen panel. “Follow me.”

     She had to pull her wings tight to her body, and dive through the open panel awkwardly. The ground was cold and tilted like a ramp down into the dark. She followed her sister’s lantern. The ceiling was low, but thankfully she was small. The walls were made of rough rock.

     “Whoa.”

     Her sister started to speak quickly and excitedly, explaining a whole story about hide and seek, discovering this passageway, and finding a magical amulet that let her listen in on conversations that were happening far away. Kimi made her let her try the amulet on herself, and she could suddenly hear the clashing of swords, the beating of drums, and what felt like a thousand voices and gasps and laughs and drinking glasses clattering, and she pulled the amulet off hurriedly, shoving it back into her sister’s paw.

     “Yeah, it takes some getting used to. I had to learn how to concentrate and focus on the parts I want to hear. But I’ve learned so many things. Like did you know the Lord of the Crescent Isle thinks the Lord of the Rising Wind is a slob? And he tells his attendants the most outrageous stories about the other lords, he really says a lot of very rude things when he thinks no one is listening.”

     Clearly, Lunara had been aching to share all of her gossip and new knowledge with someone, she barely took a breath between sentences. “Okay, so last time I was here I found the amulet, so keep your eyes peeled for other clues.”

     “What exactly am I looking for?” The other princess asked with a yawn, starting to dream about her cosy bed again.

     “I don’t know. An amulet. Maybe something else … like a sword? Or maybe… oof!”

     She dropped the lantern in surprise and held up one of her long Cybunny feet tenderly, as if she had stubbed her toe. Kimi grabbed the lantern from behind her and held it up. On the ground was a big brown box with a golden crescent moon on the top. Kimi rubbed her head, like she was having a big thought.

     “I’ve seen that symbol before…” she said. “It looks like the box the Priestess gave me for my birthday, remember? The puzzle box?”

     The box had been an annoying gift, she remembered. The Priestess had told her that her gift was only for the worthy, whatever that meant, and if she could figure out how to open it, then she would be rewarded. Well, it had taken her weeks to figure out the box, but finally, she realized that one of the sides moved and if she slid the bits of the box in a particular order, a metal pole would release a sliding inner chamber, revealing a beautiful leaf bracelet cuff. She was so pleased with herself she had worn that bracelet for months without taking it off, and told everyone who would listen about the box, though she often wondered if anyone really paid attention to children at all.

     “I know how to open it,” she cried, and got to work sliding the pieces around on the box. It was big and Lunara had to help her with some parts, but finally they pushed aside the piece, revealing a secret chamber.

     Inside, there were … pieces of old parchment. A pile of folded paper with red ribbon tied around it.

     Lunara pulled them out and held them to the light. “I think it’s some kind of diary,” she said. “Whoever wrote it is terribly good at calligraphy. I wonder what it says, we should take it upstairs and read it.”

     The girls carefully made their way back out through the secret panel and back to Kimi’s third story roost. Lunara began to pull open the pages in excitement, while Kimi flopped herself onto her bed.

     “Don’t you want to know what it says?” Lunara asked her forlorn sister.

     “Oh pish. Maybe you can read it and tell me the important bits. I thought there would be jewels in that box! What a disappointment. All that effort for an old book. I think the Priestess is playing an awful trick on me, just trying to trick me into doing my lessons. What a rotten day. No feasting for me. I’m going to get some beauty sleep and try again tomorrow. Goodnight, Lunara.”

     And with that, the impetuous princess pulled up her covers and turned over.

     Which left Lunara poring over the pages until the lantern sputtered out and the only light in the room was the green glare of the Quilin’s eyes, which never closed, not even after Lunara fell fast asleep clutching the papers.

     The Quilin stared boldly into the dark until the sun rose, piercing the night with its glowing eyes like two green beacons of warning.

     *****

     Lunara spent the first week of the festival cloistered in the study atop the Lunar Temple with the pages of the diary they had found. It was slow going. There were old words she had never seen before, and she had had to get the Gnorbu Grandfather’s help with translation, all the while keeping a secret the diary, and where she had found it.

     “I have followed the way of the dagger for as long as I can remember but it is only now that I will lay down my memories. Perhaps the Emperor’s peace will last, and this manuscript and its contents will have no use. Nonetheless, the secrets of this scroll should be kept within the clan of the Celestial Dagger, and never passed down to one who is undeserving. The correct way should be kept deep in one’s mind, in the shadow of the heart …”

     The diary had been written by an old warrior from the time of the warring provinces, but not part of a Lord’s army. In fact, he hadn’t been on anyone’s side exactly, he seemed to have worked for lots of different lords at different times. But he seemed loyal to two causes - one was his network of those he called the warriors of the “Celestial dagger” or “moon warriors”, and the other was his project of promoting peace and unification of what she guessed was Shenkuu, before it was known as that.

     Golly, she wished she had paid attention in Realm History. She had to keep asking the Gnorbu questions, thankfully he knew a lot of important stuff, even if it was buried in a long tirade of Grandfather talk.

     The diary had lots of practical bits too, like farming advice, and weapons.

     “It is essential that a moon warrior prepares themself with useful tools before embarking on a mission. A castle with stone walls, well-constructed fortifications, or waterways like moats or rivers is formidable but not impossible to overcome with the correct tools. Here I will describe how to construct such tools …

     … carry a torch made from the bark stripped from a cypress tree, wrapped with linen or a makeshift rope, and put it on your back or beneath your kimono …

     … to infiltrate a house or storage facility locked with a latch ring or door latch, make an L-shaped tool out of iron. The L-shape should be 1 claw and two paws in length. The handle should be five paws long, and the cord 6 paws, and 6 teeth …

     … to cross a river, use an iron anchor, as described, and a rope bridge. The bamboo sticks for the bridge should be tied in a zigzag manner … “

     And then, there was advice about being a spy, on how to get information from a monk, a merchant, or even a Lord. And it seemed that the warriors of the Dagger were not the only secret spies in the land:

     “All the warriors of the Dagger should be able to know one another through the use of secret passwords that should be passed down orally. When these words are spoken at a meeting, those who know the codes should rise from their seats, this way it is easy to expose a traitor, who should be suspected to be a warrior of the Arrow of the Sun.

     We are aware of the existence of those schooled in the way of assassination and infiltration who are not warriors of the Celestial Dagger. I do not know how many of their way survive yet. As our clan has been expelled and scattered through these now peaceful and unified lands, we have assimilated into towns and villages as farmers and sheepherders. In the chaos of the Last Battle, there were those among the warlord’s forces who were certainly warriors of the Sun…

     …Believe you will never be safe now. Old enemies could be anyone: the one who tends the fields to your right, the one who prays at the temple, the one who swaps a meal for a song. The old networks have broken down, but spies and warriors still live among us. Perhaps we all fade to history and be remembered as mere farmers, monks, musicians, or perhaps we will be called to be something more once again. And remember that great people always have great ambitions, even if they try to conceal them.”

     And yet there was nothing about a pale egg stone, or a Quilin, or the Priestess. And still, the Priestess was missing, and hadn’t arrived at the festival. And when she asked her father about it, he would just stroke his beard distractedly, and quote old Shenkuun proverbs about waiting and the importance of patience.

     She thought about telling the Emperor about the journal, but she didn’t see how it would help. Clearly, he was busy entertaining guests and running a kingdom, and he didn’t seem that worried about the missing Priestess, or Kimi’s strange shift in behaviour. All she could think to do was to keep an eye on her sister (which was difficult as she kept sneaking off every evening, doing who knows what), and keep reading.

     Sometimes, Lunara sniffed to herself, being a crown princess felt like such a frustrating position, like living in an illusion of power that was really no great power at all. But on the other hand, she mused, she really did like the jewellery.

      To be continued…