Dragon Sword and Wind Child

by Noriko Ogiwara

  She rose brusquely when Prince Tsukishiro pulled himself wordlessly away, and parting the curtain, she stood beside a column on the balcony. High above them a thin sliver of moon, like a crescent of fingernail, had emerged at the edge of the night sky. Although the glow it cast was almost too ephemeral to be called light, the Princess standing with her back turned to the Prince seemed bathed in a sudden coldness. “I’m worried about security at the West Gate. Surely they wouldn’t let our prize slip through their fingers.”

  Prince Tsukishiro said with a sigh, “I know that as long as there is light in this world you live only to serve our divine father, but is everything else just dallying to you?”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Princess Teruhi asked, turning to face him.

  “Then what,” he asked, “will you do when our father comes once again to rule this land?”

  Princess Teruhi was caught off guard, but she replied without hesitation. “I’ll do as I’ve always done. I’ll worship and obey him. My greatest desire is to behold once more his illustrious face, from which I have been parted for so long.”

  Prince Tsukishiro lay stretched out elegantly on the floor, but at this he raised himself on one elbow and looked at her. “What blind affection. Sister, you’re just like the handmaidens of the sacred shrine.”

  “I’ve had enough of your constant grumbling.”

  “Sometimes I almost feel sorry for our younger brother.”

  Glaring at him as he ran his fingers through his hair, Princess Teruhi snapped, “Don’t bring Chihaya into this just to please your whim. Are you saying that you understand his degenerate mind?”

  “No, I don’t,” Prince Tsukishiro said flatly. “Although I would feel easier if I could. Chihaya’s eyes are fixed on something else; the path he follows differs from ours. Why do you think our divine father made him so different?”

  “Surely it was an accident,” she replied sullenly. “I can’t believe that he would intentionally produce such a good-for-nothing.”

  Prince Tsukishiro folded his fingers together and said thoughtfully, “I used to think so, too—that he was not what our father intended. But recently I have begun to think that the opposite might be true— that Chihaya might in fact represent our father’s true purpose, one which he has kept hidden.”

  “What do you mean?” Princess Teruhi watched him intently.

  “You and I were born to act as our celestial father’s two eyes. We have been placed upon this earth to watch over it for him. But Chihaya was born from our father’s nose, through which his breath flows. Born from a sigh that expressed our father’s true feelings, he is closer to our father’s heart.”

  Princess Teruhi gave a short laugh. “That boy? Even though he’ll never grow up and his only talent is dreaming? What part of our miserable brother do you claim expresses our father’s feelings?”

  Hesitating, Prince Tsukishiro paused and then said, “That boy loves the Goddess. He’s constantly seeking the entrance to the place where we immortals can never go.”

  Princess Teruhi jumped like a startled deer and bore down upon the Prince with a menacing glare. “I will not permit such a thing to be suggested again, even by you, brother.” Shaking with rage, she shouted, “You speak as though our divine father, the God of Light himself, still wishes to meet the Goddess of Darkness.”

  Prince Tsukishiro regarded her calmly. “If . . . just if this were so, what would become of us?”

  “That’s impossible! Don’t be ridiculous,” Princess Teruhi berated him, waving her hand impatiently as though driving the thought away. “Chihaya’s attraction to the Darkness is necessary only to give him the power to still the Dragon Sword. Because that’s the only thing he’s good for. It’s proof of our father’s wise decision to render the loathsome Sword as useless as Chihaya. Nothing could possibly cloud the illustrious will of the God of Light. The fact that Chihaya loses himself in dreams is merely a compensation for stilling the Sword along with himself. All we need to do is let him dream as much as he wants. He protects the Sword and we protect him because the Sword is powerful and needs a guardian. Isn’t that enough? What are you worrying about? Why do you waste your time with these delusions?”

  “You’re right. It’s just a delusion,” Prince Tsukishiro whispered. “In any case, it doesn’t change the fact that Chihaya’s power has been sealed inside him.”

  Princess Teruhi knelt and placed her hands on Prince Tsukishiro’s shoulders. She frowned, looking into his face. “You’re behaving very strangely. Within but a short space of time, victory will be ours.”

  Recollecting himself, Prince Tsukishiro smiled faintly. “I shall return to the present. It’s just one of those whims that you, my dear sister, so dislike.”

  The expression of concern vanished from her face and she turned away. “This happens because you insist on bringing that Water Maiden into the palace,” she said angrily. “The air becomes impure and you begin to doubt. There’s no need to waste your efforts trying to purify her. The only solution is to destroy her.”

  Striking her knee with her fist, she rose and picked up her sword, fastening it at her waist. “I’m going to see what’s happening at the West Gate.”

  “Saya won’t be there.”

  “Can you be so sure?”

  “I’ll go with you, then.” He stood up swiftly.

  At that moment a roar shook the silence of the sleeping palace. Like a giant bubble, it rose from the depths of the night and burst. It was like the growl of an enormous creature or the rumble of thunder from the edge of the earth. When it reached their ears, the trees, the grass, even the columns of the palace quivered momentarily. The earth itself trembled with terror at the low-pitched sound, and the air swelled with fear.

  The twins started and recoiled, glancing at each other.

  “The Dragon cries,” Princess Teruhi whispered. “Did the old women neglect to bring the water of pacification?”

  “What can Chihaya be doing?” Prince Tsukishiro asked. “The Sword hasn’t made such a clamor since he began to watch over it.”

  The expression that suddenly crossed Princess Teruhi’s face was one she had never worn before. “It can’t be! That girl!”

  SAYA gripped the Sword gingerly in both hands, staring at it blankly. It had begun to shriek when she yelled at the guards accosting them to keep away. The sound shook the air with a disturbing resonance, pulsing in a way that set her nerves on edge. Needless to say, the guards paled and fled.

  “Why is it doing this?” Saya asked, bewildered as she struggled to suppress her desire to fling it away.

  “Saya, calm down,” Chihaya said anxiously from beside her. “The Sword will overpower you if you get upset.”

  How could he possibly expect her to calm down, she wondered. The place was in an uproar, and she could hear the angry voices of the guards calling for reinforcements. It was clear that within moments the entire palace guard would be ranged against them. To sneak quietly away, taking Chihaya with her, was now utterly impossible.

  “Let’s go to the West Gate. There’s no point in trying to hide any longer,” she said in desperation. She urged Chihaya on and they broke into a run. An intricate network of fences and buildings hemmed the narrow streets, obstructing their view so that soldiers responding to the alarm repeatedly ran into them head on. Without exception, however, the soldiers blanched and fell back, unable to stop the fleeing pair. The Sword continued to shriek, making the palace rumble, and it also began to glow. The stones in the hilt blazed like murky red lidless eyes, glaring at those who crossed their path, and bluewhite sparks fell from its tip. A bluish light radiated along its entire length, illuminating Saya from the chest up and making her look like a madwoman. Even the bravest men trembled at the sight.

  Saya and Chihaya ran without stopping while behind them a clamor rose in the streets and lights came on in every wakening mansion. Just a little farther, Saya pleaded silently.

  They had almost reached the West Gate. But
only a few paces behind them came the people of the palace. To a night bird hovering above them as they raced from one side of the palace to the other, they would have appeared to be drawing the people toward the gate in order to sweep them from the city.

  The brightly lit West Gate came into view. Saya and Chihaya halted, gasping for breath. Between the gate’s two pillars stood the Prince and Princess, arms folded. And surrounding them were the very best soldiers with bowstrings drawn.

  “Saya,” Prince Tsukishiro called in a thunderous voice. The rebuke in it struck her forcefully. “Control yourself. Such behavior does not become you.”

  The Sword’s howling ceased abruptly. Stillness spread through the night, as if a curtain had been drawn back. Saya stood immobile in shock. The Sword weighed heavily in her hands and she gradually lowered it. The blade was so long that the tip almost touched the ground. The light that glowed within began to fade as the wild agitation in her heart slowly subsided.

  “Well, you couldn’t have chosen a more spectacular way to get here, little one,” Princess Teruhi said, her hands on her hips. Although her voice was steady, Saya could feel the anger seething beneath. “Were you trying to disturb the palace? Where did you learn such behavior?”

  “Let Torihiko go. That’s all I want,” Saya said hoarsely. “I don’t intend to harm anyone. Just let us go.”

  “Go? Where do you plan to go?” Prince Tsukishiro said in disbelief. “Do you think you can turn your back on me and return home? If you think the people of Hashiba will welcome you back with open arms, you’re gravely mistaken. And surely you don’t intend to go to the people of Darkness. For of all things, you loathed most your tainted birth among those who worship the Goddess.”

  “I know,” Saya whispered, “yet that is where I belong.”

  “Look at me,” the Prince commanded sternly. Biting her lip, Saya raised her head. His face was rigid and hard but, more than anything else, sad. And as he stood there, his commanding presence still embodied all that she loved.

  “I thought that I had given you all that it was in my power to give. I thought that you had vowed to cherish it. What could have been lacking that you should turn from me in this way? You always leave me. What do you seek that I can’t see?”

  Saya was on the verge of tears. His sincerity was heartrending. “I’m not turning my back on you. I love you—and I’m sure that I always will. But . . .” Shaking her head, she fixed him with a sad and hopeless gaze. “That which I seek and which you can’t see is my soul, the source of life. It’s something that the people of Darkness can never forget. So please, forgive me. I can’t stay here.”

  The Sword began to hum faintly.

  “Let me pass.”

  Princess Teruhi spoke. “If you wish to go, then go. But I will permit neither Chihaya nor the Sword to pass through this gate.”

  Chihaya fell back a step under his sister’s gaze.

  “Why have you done what is strictly forbidden?” she demanded in a tone that would have caused even stone to tremble. “Why, when I strove so hard to keep you from the eyes of men, have you left the shrine?”

  Certainly the people of Mahoroba milling at a distance all had their eyes fixed on Chihaya. It was obvious that he was no ordinary person. With his white robes, he looked like a bird that had alighted from above, and his long black hair flowed like a river of night. Looking bemused and uncertain, he seemed more like a celestial angel newly descended from heaven than a youth.

  “Sister,” he whispered hoarsely.

  “I command you to take the Sword from that girl and return to the shrine immediately,” Princess Teruhi said imperiously. “I don’t know how she managed to lure you out, but you can’t live anywhere else. Without us to protect you, you won’t even be able to dream.”

  “Don’t listen to her. You’re walking out of here on your own two feet,” Saya said sharply. The Dragon Sword began to glow again. Sparks sprang soundlessly from the blade, and the red stones awoke and glared threateningly.

  Chihaya remained silent for a while; then, looking Princess Teruhi squarely in the eye, he held up his hands. “Sister, I have cut the bonds that held me. Once I desired to cut them, it was easy. And I realized that until now I had never even wished to be free.”

  “And that is how it should be,” Princess Teruhi retorted, lashing out at him. “You’ve never realized the peril you represent. Even if you knew, there was nothing you could have done but curse yourself and suffer needlessly. I didn’t wish to expose my own brother to such a fate. To remain in the shrine is your sole hope for happiness.”

  “Liar!” It was Saya, not Chihaya, who screamed. Shaking with indignation, she said, “I know the truth. It doesn’t matter whether someone is your own kin or not, you’re only capable of using them.”

  To her astonishment, light suddenly gushed from the Sword and shot up into the sky, tracing a thick line. Within seconds, a swirling cloud had formed, a cloud that responded to the Sword. The sky split in two above the stunned crowd, and from the cleft a flash of orange light spilled forth. With an appalling roar it struck the ground, generating a warm moist wind, and, before their very eyes, the main hall burst into a pillar of flame. With a cry of terror, the crowd crested like a wave and broke, scattering like baby spiders spilling from the nest. “Water! Water!” someone shouted.

  Saya, shocked beyond fear, stood rooted to the spot, staring at the dancing flames. She found that she could hold the Sword no longer. She had reached the limits of her courage.

  “Chihaya,” she whispered. “Take it, please. I can’t still the Sword. I’m too weak.”

  He looked at her in surprise. “But that can’t be . . .”

  “Please,” she begged him. Although she did not want to admit it, everything was growing dark and stars were dancing at the edge of her vision. “I think I’m going to faint. Please, before I fall.”

  Chihaya hastily put his arm around her and gripped the hilt of the Sword next to her hand. Princess Teruhi, turning her eyes from the fire and seeing them thus, gave a triumphant smile.

  “That’s it. Now take the girl and go back to the shrine. When the fire is out, we can take our time deciding what to do with her.”

  Chihaya looked at the exhausted Saya and the Dragon Sword. When he gripped the hilt a little more firmly, Saya’s hand fell limply away. He alone now held the Sword, and though it still glowed faintly, its humming subsided. But from the quivering in the palm of his hand he could feel its impatience to move again.

  “Sister.” Chihaya raised his voice above the noise of the fire.

  “What?”

  “I wish to return this girl to the people of Darkness.”

  A slightly puzzled expression crossed Princess Teruhi’s face, gradually changing into one of astonishment. “You what?! Do you intend to take her yourself ?”

  “Yes.”

  “Of your own free will?”

  “Yes.”

  “No! I won’t allow it!” Princess Teruhi screamed, her voice shaking. “You’re insane! Don’t you know that if you do this, you can never return? We’ll have to fight against one another, to despise each other. If you take but one step outside this gate, your fate will seize you. It’s clearly written in the stars.”

  “I have no desire to fight you or my brother. But no matter what the consequences, I can’t stay.” Chihaya spoke calmly, but the Sword in his hand grew steadily brighter. “The Water Maiden has broken the dam and released what was contained behind it. I wish to go and seek the Goddess, as my father intended.”

  “Tsukishiro, come!” the Princess cried desperately. “Stop him, stop Chihaya! The Dragon Sword will be reborn.”

  Prince Tsukishiro was directing the soldiers’ efforts to extinguish the fire, but he turned, paling, at her words. And saw Chihaya grasping the Sword in one hand and supporting Saya with the other as he attempted to pass through the gate. Realizing that it was too late to run after him, he set an arrow to his bow as swiftly as a hawk. Aiming for his br
other’s heart, he pulled the bowstring taut. But at that moment the ground bucked beneath him. With a great rumbling and a blinding light, the earth shook with quake after quake, so that not a soul was left standing. The main hall, still burning, collapsed under the shock, and an anguished cry arose from the people who were assailed by showers of sparks. The entire vault of heaven glowed dull purple, as if the world were turning upside down.

  Prince Tsukishiro crawled to Princess Teruhi’s side and shielded her from the scraps of burning wood that fell from the sky. For a long time the two remained there on the ground, but when the earthquake had finally abated they raised their faces and looked up at the sky. Above their heads a dragon danced—an enormous blue-white dragon dancing wildly in pain, or in exultation.

  Reckless, blind, it sped from cloud to blue-black cloud with chilling lack of purpose. Below, all the roofs of the main hall had crumbled, belching forth flames, and the deafening roar of dry wood burning drowned out the cries of the people scattering in terror. Smoke as black as soot spouted into the air, swirled and spread across the sky, which flickered with lightning.

  “The fire’s curse has been unsealed,” Princess Teruhi whispered.

  “That which brings evil to both the Darkness and the Light.”

  She turned and gazed blankly at the West Gate beside her, which was now burning furiously, and then at the Hut of Abomination, which was likewise engulfed in flames.

  Prince Tsukishiro tightened his grip on her shoulder. “Let’s go to the river. We’re in danger here.”

  5

  SAYA COULD hear the sound of water: the low murmur of a great river. Opening one eye and then the other, she saw that it was dawn. A faint white light touched the horizon. She was lying on the soft grass of the riverbank. She sat up, feeling as though she were waking from some bad dream that she could not remember. She was not afraid but rather filled with a forlorn helplessness, like a lost child. Where was she? Seeing Chihaya sitting beside her, she smiled with relief. The air was clear and still and she could hear the sweet chirping of an early bird.