by Liz Delton
“I—well—” Kira’s gaze darted to Mistress Nari, and the woman’s eyes narrowed at Kira in a speculative sort of way. “That’s where I’m from,” Kira finally said, addressing Ichiro, as if merely answering his earlier line of question.
“Where you’re from?” Ichiro repeated, and he sank back into his cushion, still holding her in his inescapable gaze.
Kira nodded. Encouraged by the continued calm of the conversation, she went on. “There was this door—no, first there was the creature made of darkness.”
Mistress Nari sat down abruptly on another floor cushion, eyes still narrowed at Kira. It was a relief to not have the Mistress towering over her anymore, Kira thought.
“A door?” Ichiro interjected, but Nari spoke over him.
“The creature, yes,” she said slowly. “I was having it followed by one of my messengers. Do you know what happened to it?”
This was something Kira could answer. “Only that it chased me until I found a door in the woods, and when I went through it, I was here.”
The shortest of looks passed between Ichiro and Mistress Nari at Kira’s mention of the door, but she went on. “And the fox—that came first, actually. Was that your messenger?”
Mistress Nari waved an impatient hand, saying, “Yes, yes, of course. But how did you get to the Starless Realm in the first place?”
“Get there?” Kira echoed. “I’m from there. I was born there.”
“No, that’s not right,” Mistress Nari replied. “You have Light magic. You’re from Camellia.” She said it so matter-of-factly that Kira’s next words of disagreement couldn’t find their way off her tongue.
She looked from Mistress Nari to Ichiro, who, she was horrified to see, was nodding in agreement.
“No,” Kira blurted, but Ichiro had already unfurled the scroll again and was busy scratching away at it with his quill. “No, that’s impossible—”
But was it? a small voice in her head asked. She thought of her mother and her habit of moving so often—as though she were looking for something. How her mother would sometimes disappear for days at a time and, when she returned, wouldn’t tell Kira where she had been or why she always seemed so depressed. Her mother, who had no family to speak of. Her mother, who hadn’t come home from work that day.
Ichiro and Nari exchanged another look. No longer hungry, Kira felt like she was going to throw up. She stared at the wooden compartments in the wall behind Ichiro as tears threatened.
She was brought back to her senses by a gentle touch on her hand. It was Ichiro. She stared at him; she didn’t know what to say.
“I think I have all I need,” he said gently, gesturing at his scroll. “You are welcome to train at Gekkō-ji, Kira. As I said, we do not discriminate against trainees for where they come from. We all have Light magic here.”
“We shall, however, need to maintain that you are from the Shadow region.” Ichiro turned and slid her scroll into another compartment behind him. Still in a daze, Kira noticed that each of the compartments had a tidy label attached to them, but the writing was so small she couldn’t read it from where she sat.
“But the Shadow mages—aren’t they bad?” she blurted.
A sigh slipped from Ichiro. “Shadow and Light are at odds at the moment,” he said delicately.
Mistress Nari snorted. “There is a terrible feud going on right now, Kira, but as long as you have Light magic, you’re welcome here. There’s nothing to worry about.”
Kira tried again. “But I don’t know anything about the Shadow region. How am I supposed to pretend I’m from there?”
Ichiro thought for a moment. “I believe Anzu said she found you near Heliodor. We should stick to saying you are from there. Most people won’t ask you questions about your time there.”
Kira nodded, hoping that was so. “Is it—is it bad to be from the Starless Realm?” she asked, her voice nearly a whisper.
“Not at all,” he said, smiling now. “In fact, it’s an honor. It’s said that the Realm of Camellia was born from the Starless Realm. We have had many visitors from there over the centuries, and they have blessed us with their revered cultures. The most notable being Master Jozo Kawada, whose methods of training and discipline inspired the temples to form in order to refine our magics. But such visits are a very rare occurrence indeed.”
“It’s the dark-creature’s presence that’s the problem,” Nari explained. “It’s Shadow magic, sent by a powerful mage, the Storm King. He must have sent it into the Starless Realm. Whether he was looking for you in particular, or something else, I couldn’t begin to guess—that’s why I had a messenger follow it. If he was looking for you, then we must keep your identity secret.”
“Light and Shadow magic can pass into my realm?” Kira asked.
“Yes,” Ichiro said, but he shook his head, as though he knew exactly what Kira was thinking. “But that is because they are the essence of all life, regardless of physical space. We all have light and darkness in our souls. But a body is a much more complicated thing to transfer between realms.”
“But the door—” Kira began.
Nari finished for her. “—is the other part of the problem.”
Mistress Nari’s hand twitched where it sat on her crossed leg. “What you must understand is that the Storm King will do anything to defeat us. Ever since the Fall of Azurite, he has turned Shadow magic against Light.
“I’m not surprised that he is now sending his agents into the Starless Realm looking for more ways to destroy us, only deeply unsettled. And the door…” She trailed off.
Ichiro cleared his throat. “Is new. Unusual.”
The memory of the dark beast at the edge of the woods made Kira’s shoulders draw up. It had been sent looking for Light magic…Her mouth popped open. Did her mother have it? Had the dark-creature found her and crushed her just as it had crushed the wooden bench?
Too stunned to voice any of her theories, Kira’s gaze settled on Ichiro, who pulled open a small drawer at the bottom of the wall. He extracted a shining silver buckle, in the shape of a crescent moon. From another drawer, Ichiro withdrew a black sash.
“Regardless of how you got here, you will begin your training tomorrow.”
Kira sat up straighter on her cushion. Was he serious?
He handed her the sash and silver buckle, and she took them numbly. The buckle was surprisingly heavy in her hand, and she closed her fingers around it protectively.
“These are yours,” Ichiro said, back to business. “The black sash marks you as a novice. After sufficient learning or at the recommendation of a Master, you may advance to a page, who wear blue sashes. Squires wear green, and when you finally become a knight, you may wear the white sash.”
Kira’s eyes darted toward Mistress Nari’s silver sash. Was silver for the Masters, then?
“How long will it take?” Kira asked.
“That is entirely up to you,” he replied with a warm smile.
Despite her overwhelming nervousness, Kira smiled back. For some reason, Ichiro made her feel somewhat more comfortable—though perhaps it was only his business-like approach to welcoming her to the temple. It was somehow soothing to have what might pass as normalcy for her.
“The silver badge represents Gekkō-ji. The badges used to act as a means of offering a distinction between the different Light temples of Camellia, but time and…other factors have left only Gekkō-ji standing.”
Kira wrapped the sash around the badge and slipped them into her pocket, where her fingers brushed against the plastic library card. It made her think of Ms. Elm, and she wondered if the woman had noticed Kira missing yet. Would her caretaker be worried? Or would she be glad not to have to deal with the newly orphaned Kira? Kira, at least, thought it would be better to stay away from Ms. Elm until she was sure the dark-creature was no longer following her.
“I’ll send for Nesma,” Mistress Nari said, rising to her feet in a swirl of green fabrics. Despite her grey hair, she moved with th
e agility of someone much younger. Who or what Nesma could be was a complete mystery to Kira.
“Kira, it’s important you do not speak of the Starless Realm to anyone,” she said, her hand lingering on the door before opening it. “The Storm King has spies all over Camellia. We’re not entirely sure what he was looking for in the Starless Realm, but we do not want him finding out about you. A visitor from the Starless Realm would cause a great stir.”
Chapter Six
The Moonlight Temple
“Why would someone from my realm cause a stir?” Kira asked Ichiro as Mistress Nari’s footsteps finally faded.
He mulled the question over for so long that Kira wasn’t sure he was going to tell her. But after much contemplation, he said, “Such visitors are extremely rare, and when they do appear, it always initiates great change. Legends of the first notable visitor, Master Kawada, fill many books, his effects on our realm were so far-reaching. He taught us the way of the warrior, and though he possessed no magic, he defined Light and Shadow training as they are today.”
That would explain the Japanese influence, Kira thought, if that Master came from Japan, and others after him. And whoever designed this building could have come from England for all I know. She wondered where else visitors might have come from, what other influences had taken hold on Camellia.
“And,” Kira began, a tremble in her voice now, “have any of these visitors ever gone back?”
Ichiro shook his head sadly. “Not on record. But just because a thing hasn’t happened doesn’t mean that it is impossible.”
Kira thought that over for a few minutes until Ichiro spoke again. “Kira, I know this may be shocking to you, but I agree with Mistress Nari—no visitor from the Starless Realm has ever possessed Light magic or Shadow. I think it might be possible that you traveled to the Starless Realm when you were young, perhaps with your family. Someone must have brought you to the Starless Realm from Camellia.”
Kira looked down at her tea cup; there were only a few drops of cold tea left at the bottom. “It was just me and my mother,” she said. For some reason, it was harder to tell Ichiro, a complete stranger from another world, than it had been to talk to Ms. Elm about it. “She…died. Only the day before it—before I came here.”
“My dear, I am so sorry for your loss,” he said, reaching out and clasping her hands. His aged hands felt warm around hers. Again, he pinned her with his entrancing gaze, but this time it was empathy that drew her in. “I myself just lost my son, Rokuro.”
“I am so sorry.” Kira paused for a second, trying to remember his title. “Master Starwind.”
“You may call me Ichiro when we’re alone,” he added with the shadow of a smile. “Rokuro was a great warrior—one of the last Grey Knights. He led a full life, even though he suffered many great losses.”
“Grey Knight?” Kira asked, puzzled.
“Forgive me; there is much we must teach you,” he said. He let go of her hands and began to put away the tea things. Kira handed him the teapot, and he put everything on a tray.
“This is all out of precedent, as you can imagine. A visitor from the Starless Realm is normally heralded throughout Camellia. I do apologize that your presence must be a secret like this, but it is too dangerous at this moment, with the Storm King waging war across the realm.”
Kira looked into his eyes, now pouring kindness, and muttered, “That’s all right.”
“Perhaps we should find a way for you to learn more about Camellia—the trouble is, anything out of the ordinary could cause unwanted attention or even suspicion toward you. I must think on it. A Grey Knight, so you know, is gifted with both Light and Shadow magic. They are very rare, however. Especially these days.”
Before Kira could ask more, a small knock sounded at Ichiro’s door. He stood and slid the door open, revealing a small girl with dark hair hiding half her face. She looked about Kira’s age, or perhaps a little younger.
“Ah, Nesma,” Ichiro remarked. “Come in.”
The girl took three small steps into the room. Kira offered a smile, which the petite girl returned timidly.
“This is Kira Savage, our newest trainee,” Ichiro told Nesma. “Since you are the most recent arrival to the temple, you will be her mentor and guide her through training.”
Nesma’s dark eyes widened, looking slightly terrified at this instruction, but she bowed toward Ichiro, hands flat on her thighs, and murmured, “Yes, Master Starwind.”
Ichiro turned back to Kira, who found herself once again trapped in his piercing gaze. “Kira, Nesma will be your mentor and superior. You will respect her as you would myself or Mistress Nari. When the next trainee arrives at the temple, you will guide them in turn.”
Kira nodded, feeling her cheeks grow warm. How could he expect her to guide anyone in the ways of the temple when he knew perfectly well that she wasn’t even from the Realm of Camellia? She would just have to hope that the next trainee wouldn’t arrive for a long time.
“Now,” Ichiro told Nesma, “please take this to the kitchen house,” he handed her the tea tray, “and get Kira something to eat. Then you can show her the temple. She will begin training tomorrow. Kira, you will be enrolled in all novice-level classes, alongside Nesma. You will also keep to Nesma’s chore schedule until next month when the new roster is assigned.”
Feeling more than slightly thunderstruck, Kira followed Nesma down the hall and to the door. They stepped into the bright sunlight outside. Kira stood there blinking for a moment until Nesma put a light hand on her sleeve and asked, “Are you all right?” Her voice was high and breathy, making her seem younger than she looked.
“Yes,” Kira blurted. “Just tired—and hungry.” She raised her head and looked around hopefully. The scents of cooking were nearby, but she wasn’t sure where they were coming from.
Nesma smiled. “Right this way.” She led Kira toward a squat wooden building tucked into the nearest corner of the temple square. A distinct trail of smoke rose up from the back of it, carrying many delicious smells Kira couldn’t name, which grew stronger as they approached.
“So where are you from, Kira?” Nesma asked, and Kira’s gut twisted.
“The Shadow region,” she said, the lie working its way out of her with surprisingly little effort. She tried to remember which town she was supposed to be from. She bit her lip, feeling guilty both for lying and for not being properly prepared to lie.
“Oh,” Nesma said. “Were you traveling long?”
Glad Nesma wasn’t put off by this, Kira said, “Not long, no. I was only in Heliodor,” she added, finally remembering the name. Kira wished she didn’t have to lie to Nesma; the girl seemed genuinely nice.
They reached the kitchen house and returned the empty tea tray. Bored-looking trainees handed over cloth-wrapped bundles of food when Nesma asked them. Then Nesma led her behind the kitchen house, where an enormous pergola covered a wide courtyard, completely covered in barren brown wisteria vines. The pergola stretched from the kitchen house to the stone wall surrounding the temple grounds, and the vines snaked up all the wooden supports. They chose a stone bench from the dozens of empty ones and ate in silence. Kira opened the cloth bundle to find some kind of sweet bun and a ball of rice, which turned out to be stuffed with what Kira thought was chicken.
“How long does it take to become a Light knight?” Kira asked when Nesma finished eating. She herself had eaten at top speed until her stomach was finally content, but she thought it would be better manners to wait until her mentor finished eating until she began pestering her.
“It depends,” Nesma replied slowly, dabbing her mouth with the cloth napkin her food had been wrapped in. “Hikaru, my mentor, told me there was once a knight who took fifty years to complete his training. Sir Kori was such a perfectionist that he had to master the skills in just the right way before he moved on. That was, of course, during a time of peace.”
“Fifty years?” Kira replied faintly.
“Oh, but then t
here’s Master Tomodo, who did it in only one year—but I think Hikaru might have been exaggerating. I mean, the Masters who teach the subjects aren’t even here all the time, so I don’t know how Master Tomodo could have done it unless he was really lucky and skilled.”
Kira shrugged then asked, “How long have you been training?”
“Two months.”
“Oh,” Kira said, her mouth twitching up in a smile with some relief. “So I won’t be far behind in learning, then?”
“Behind?” Nesma echoed. “No, there’s no getting behind. We have to advance ourselves at our own pace. The Masters are constantly instructing, so when trainees come throughout the year, they can begin learning at any point—since not everyone discovers they have Light magic at the same age. But wasn’t it like that in the Shadow region?”
Kira muttered, “I’m not sure.”
After they cleaned up the remains of their lunch, Nesma brought her to the girl’s side of the bathhouse, where she was given a neatly folded set of clothes. She carefully extracted her library card from her jeans pocket—which was a good thing, because she never saw the clothes again. Later, Kira wondered what the laundress had thought of her blue jeans and zip-up sweatshirt. Perhaps they had been burned.
The bathhouse was like nothing Kira had ever seen. After the bathrooms and changing rooms, Kira headed down the corridor to the bath. A strong floral scent that Kira couldn’t place came from the end of the hallway, where she could hear the babble of water.
She stepped into a high-ceilinged room, full of the floral scent. Steam rolled off a large pool, half of which was inside the bathhouse, the other half was open to the sky. A tall fence enclosed that end of the pool, and small shrubs and flowers decorated the enclosure. Kira was glad she had the whole place to herself. She suspected that everyone else must be in training classes.
A mural took up the entire wall beside the pool. It was made up of tiny tiles, portraying a snake-like dragon, which flew across a starry sky like a ribbon. It was flying away from a fiery circle, through which it looked like another world. Kira shuddered, knowing at once what it must mean.
