The day dawned clear, the seas running calm. As the Champions boarded the
yacht, Harata turned to look out over the docks. He continued watching as they
pulled away. Looking out over the shoreline of Diasminion, he couldn’t help
but wonder if he was ever bound to see the place again. He knew he was not the
only one who was troubled so, but felt he’d rather concentrate on his own
emotions than concern himself with the others’. I’ve spent so much time
lately worrying about how they feel, he thought. How do I feel?
So many emotions swirled within him, it was hard to discern which of them
was dominant. Each piece of his life seemed to crash up against the rest,
bearing with them the heaviness of the feelings they instilled. Ay any instant
he felt both elated and distraught, hopeful and without hope, optimistic yet
certain he traveled toward no other fate than his own demise. His impotence
frustrated him. Harata was pained by the idea that he was subject to the whims
of fate, master of none of the fragments of his life. As he watched the receding
coastline fade, he asked the gods only that he could be near the completion of
the Task, despite having no idea what he would do when it was over.
Chieko proved to be a competent captain. Though she’d insisted again
and again that she’d piloted the yacht regularly, many of the other Champions
had their doubts that she was truly up to the task. However, her knowledge of
the nautical world far exceeded any of the others’. She felt quite happy and
comfortable on the open water, and she was relieved to find that her duties kept
her from dwelling on the worries of recent days.
On the morning they’d boarded the yacht, Ayame and Keisuke both
suffered from hangovers. The Dauern was promptly seasick. Keisuke would not
admit to any discomfort, despite turning a ghastly shade of green once they’d
hit open water. Mina, on the other hand, seemed perfectly fine- affected by
neither the waves nor the alcohol. After a few days everyone had adjusted to
life at sea but Kazuki. The giant Pantagruel found that the nautical lifestyle
certainly did not agree with him. Despite Chieko’s urgings to spend more time
on deck in the fresh air, poor Kazu couldn’t seem to drag himself out of the
cabin for more than a few minutes. When he did go above deck, it was only to be
sick over the railing. Not even Keisuke had the heart to tease him, he was so
miserable.
Traveling in the yacht was, for most, a pleasurable experience. It was
quite large, and there were a variety of diversions to pass the time. They
prepared meals in shifts, and did the same with any necessary cleanup. Chieko
was teaching Harata and Mina to pilot the ship, so she’d have some relief.
Mina had taken to the yacht immediately, and wanted to know everything possible
about the vessel.
A few days after the Champions had departed Diasminion, Takaeyama found
Blue seated at the fore of the yacht. At first, the Corduran thought that Blue
was meditating, but he was simply staring out over the water. Takaeyama had
regarded the Night’s Herald with a mixture of discomfort and compassion since
the morning of their departure. Blue found it nearly impossible to remain
upright on the rolling deck. He stumbled frequently, yet never lost his serene
composure. Much as Takaeyama had wanted to seek comfort from the Night’s
Herald, he couldn’t bring himself to burden Blue with his own troubles. He was
also afraid of the guilt he felt at the memory of watching Blue on the beach,
stung by the thought that he’d done something terribly wrong.
“Hey,” he said softly as he sat down beside Blue, dangling his long
legs over the side of the yacht.
“Hey.” Blue looked at Takaeyama briefly, then turned his attention
back to the water. “You know, I think the ocean is the most beautiful thing on
the planet. It can compare even to the spectacles of other Planes. There’s a
sea of flame on Pyra… and the Crystalline Sea of Elysium, but our oceans are
just as amazing. I think I could just sit and watch the waves for hours.”
“I like it too,” Takaeyama replied, feeling shame rise as he recalled
the scene of a few nights before.
Suddenly, Blue turned his expressionless eyes on the Corduran once more.
Without preamble, he asked,
“What’s the matter? You’ve been upset again.”
Takaeyama turned away from the water and positioned himself with his back
against one of the supports for the railings. He drew his legs up under his
chin, as though trying to make himself as small as possible. Following his lead,
Blue turned as well.
Speaking in a small voice, barely audible above the wind, Takaeyama said,
“Yukiiae told me. She told me about… about what’s wrong. About how
I’m… messed up.”
“I know it’s really upsetting-“
“Upsetting? I think I’d be better off dead. Nothing can ever be the
same again. All the things I wanted in life- I can’t have a single one. It’s
just worthless. I’m worthless.”
“Takaeyama,” Blue said softly. “You can’t be worthless.”
“Don’t start telling me that I’ve got worth as a Champion. I’m
not just that. What about after this? My life is ruined.”
“You have worth, but not only as a Champion.” Hesitantly, Blue
reached out his hand and placed it gently over Takaeyama’s heart. “You have
a soul. A body, even a mind may decay… but under all that, your soul is the
truth of your being. A soul can learn, can grow, under the burden of our
bodies’ torture. Your worth is in your immortal soul, which is of far greater
importance than your temporary physical form.”
Takaeyama’s feeling of loneliness and desolation, one which had grown
unbearably upon losing Keita and which had been compounded upon by being in
Kieran’s home, swelled to fill him up entirely. He felt he would never again
know the blessed comfort of being emotionally close to another person- his
former relationships lay strained or shattered, and who would want to be near
him now? So what if he had a soul? No one in the living world would care for his
intact soul. They would only see his diseased mind. With a sense of acute
desperation, he looked at Blue, who looked back at him, eyes blank as the water
around them. Takaeyama, taken over by his feelings, crumpled into the Night’s
Herald, who made no sound.
“I wish I could be like you,” the Corduran spoke into the folds of
fabric that made up Blue’s robe. “Nothing bothers you. You don’t need
anybody. If you were the last man alive, you probably wouldn’t even know it.
You could lose anything and be okay. How come you can be that way? Why don’t
you feel anything?”
“I do feel things, Takaeyama.” There was a quiet patience in
Blue’s voice. “It takes a long time to learn mastery of our feelings, to
learn to accept them and let them pass. It may take lifetimes, even. You could
learn it too, if you wanted to.”
Takaeyama didn’t reply right away, but remained motionless. Feeling
Blue’s arms around him, the Corduran wished he could feel an embrace born out
of more than his own neediness or another’s obligation. How could he learn to
accept a life in which he’d be forever shut out? It seemed that everything was
wrong with him, not a single aspect of his person bearing merit. He tried to
block out his thoughts, lock his emotions into a place where they couldn’t
hurt him. Focusing on his senses, he realized that Blue smelled faintly of
incense and the salt of the sea.
“I’m so afraid,” he finally said.
“It’s alright to be afraid, as long as you know what it is you’re
afraid of.”
“So many things,” Takaeyama shuddered. “So many things.”
Lost in thought, Harata wandered through the cabins of the yacht. He was
looking for Yukiiae. He and Chieko had some final questions for her about their
destination. The Decameron had become elusive in the past week and a half upon
the water, withdrawing even from those with whom she’d spoken frequently in
days past. Harata however, barely noticed her withdrawal except in the times
that he wished to speak with her. Even as he looked, his mind was drawn
elsewhere. Thinking perhaps that she’d decided to lie down, he idly opened the
door of the master suite and stepped inside.
He was confronted by the sight of a naked woman’s backside. As she sat
up quickly, violet tresses cascaded down her back, sticking in the dampness of
sweat. Ayame’s eyes widened at the sight of him, and she swiftly moved to draw
a sheet to cover up her nakedness. The pair of them stared at one another,
shocked speechless.
Keisuke raised himself up on his elbows.
“Do you mind?” He asked in annoyance.
“You…” Harata fell silent in horror.
“Go away, will you?” the Angemal said. “Or do you want to
stay and watch?”
Thoroughly embarrassed, the Clanless backed out of the room and shut the
door. Keisuke was laughing.
“It’s not funny!” reprimanded Ayame, but slapped him playfully as
she said it.
She hadn’t been all that surprised to find that the Angemal was
attracted to her. After all, Dauern women were taught from a young age to detect
and exploit attraction in men. While Ayame had always has mixed feelings about
her work in the Firehouse, she was adept at her business and much appreciated by
both her customers and the proprietors of the “Yorokobi”.
Keisuke on the other hand, had warred against his growing attraction. His
exploits had always been matters of conquest for which he’d been nearly as
famed as for his swordsmanship. He’d seduced a great number of Upper
Clanswomen and bold warrioresses of his own Clan. He made it a point never to
sleep with a Dauern. No, never with a simple whore. However, he was beginning to
look at a coupling with Ayame as a matter of necessity. He needed an outlet for
his lust, and it seemed she was the likeliest candidate.
A few days earlier, she’d been standing alone on the deck, leaning
against the railing and looking out over the water. Keisuke approached her in
silence, then teasingly grabbed her rear end.
“Hey! Don’t touch me. Go touch Mina.” Ayame delighted in the fact
that her status as Champion allowed her to speak her mind, uttering phrases she
never would have dreamed of saying in the past.
“Mina,” Keisuke drawled, “has a bony ass. And besides, she
wouldn’t know what to do with me.”
“I know what to do with you- throw you overboard.”
“And let the world go down the toilet?”
“I’ll save it for the return trip, then.”
Keisuke traced a line from behind Ayame’s left ear down her neck. She
shivered.
“I believe that we two are suffering the same, shall we say, ailment…
Perhaps we could help each other out?”
“Perhaps…”
She allowed the Angemal’s fingers to roam her body, arousing curious
sensations. She found herself considering whether or not she was attracted to
Keisuke, something that hadn’t entered her thoughts before. She had to admit
that there was something about him… despite his small stature, slight
build, and pale skin. He always seemed to know exactly where and when to touch
her, when to refrain. He would never love her… but then again, Ayame doubted
her own affections would grow past their current boundaries. Perhaps they truly could
help each other… after a fashion. She turned her deep brown eyes on Keisuke
and smiled devilishly.
The two spent the next few days sneakily hiding away together whenever
possible. The arrangement worked well for both parties. Keisuke, for his part,
was happy to have a partner that he did not have to “educate”. Ayame grinned
to herself knowing that this was her own decision- nothing forced upon her- for
the first time in her life. Despite the misfortune of being discovered, neither
really felt inclined to cease their trysts. And so they carried on, to the
distress of the Clanless and amusement of the other Champions.
The journey had proved otherwise uneventful until they were within sight
of the distant shores of the Otherlands. The evening before the last day of
their trip, Yukiiae walked onto the bridge where Chieko, Harata, and Mina were
assembled.
“There’s a storm coming,” she announced.
By the tone of her voice, it was evident that disaster loomed.
