Observations of Agasha Tamori
She is a kind girl, this Phoenix, who has come to observe our paths. For nearly three months, she has been among us, struggling to understand our ways as we study hers. A strange competition has sprung up among several of the ise zumi, as to who will teach her the most about our clan. It is good that we have visitors now and then. They sharpen our minds.
Late this evening, she came to my humble door. I found myself smiling as her young servant maid bowed to beg my permission for the Phoenix maiden to approach. Eager to continue our conversations, I bid her enter.
But this was not like the other nights of sharp wit and courtier’s games. Tonight Kaede seemed distraught, and her dark hair hung thickly about her shoulders. Managing an impeccable bow, she rose to greet me, but I waved her to the pillows by my side. Lifting my chopsticks, I speared a small piece of cucumber as she delicately reached for her bow. Such courtiers, these Phoenix, for all that they know the mysteries of the Kami. If I had not known better, I would have assumed the maiden beside me was a Crane. Hair, long and dark, and a hint of beauty to her face, did nothing to disguise the ready intelligence behind her black brows. Too much intelligence.
We spoke of Shinsei and Togashi, and the legends of our clans. “They are so alike,” she said, hiding her thoughts behind a smile. “It is surprising that our clans have not grown closer.”
“Do you think so?” I asked.
“Of all the Kami, only Togashi and Shiba knew the value of silence – Togashi when Shinsei spoke, and Shiba, when he was asked to kneel before Isawa,” Kaede murmured. “We must learn from their sacrifices and gains.”
“Oh?” I hoped to draw her out, find where her thoughts were hiding.
“Togashi’s tale seems to show the same sort of sacrifice. His determination to fast until he discovered Shinsei’s meaning is a sacrifice for the future of his clan, don’t you think?”
I looked at her placidly, and silently lifted my cup to my lips.
She looked at me, her eyes dark. “Well, what do you think of the story?”
“What I think is not important. Togashi knows what he meant.”
Her eyes closed, and she sighed. As our conversation continued, my concern grew. Something was very wrong, and she was hiding it. As I pressed with questions, Kaede became distressed. We spoke of the Kami at length, and she told me of the legend of Shiba. “He sacrificed his pride, his birthright, and at last, his life – all for the sake of the clan.”
“And Shiba’s choice has given you strength?” I asked.
A moment. “No,” she whispered. “It has given the Isawa something else.”
I waited for her to continue, but she only stared out at the cold night as if she could see images on the wind. At last, she spoke again. “What do you expect of your students here in the Dragon schools, Tamori-san?” Something in her voice chilled me, and her black hair hung like a frozen waterfall.
As a servant poured more sake into my glass, I stroked my beard and replied carefully. “Only what they are capable of.”
She smiled, and a hint of sorrow spoke through her features. “How do you know what they are capable of?” She whispered, but her question was not for me, and so I did not answer. I could only wonder what her Masters had taught her, that brought such a strange mix of sense and absence to her eyes. At last, she returned, and her voice was stronger.
“Tamori-san,” she said in a level tone. “You spent many winter months with us, and you were a very gracious guest. I hope we were gracious hosts.”
Images of parties, revels, festooned ribbons through the brightly lit Phoenix halls, and tables of food that would rival the opulence of the Doji raced through my mind…and the libraries. Of all the things I had seen in the Phoenix lands, surely their libraries had held the most mystery for me. I spent long days between those tall shelves, reading each scroll with reverent hands. I remembered Kaede’s young eyes as she stood beside her crippled father. The Master of the Void. All my research had been unable to discover his mysterious abilities, unable to reveal his true face. He knew what I was searching for, and yet he did not prevent me.
Instead, he sent his daughter to our lands.
“Yes,” I replied. “Yes you were.”
“Did you learn anything while you stayed with us?”
“Yes. Yes I did.”
“What did you learn?” She leaned toward me, the candlelight shining from her dark skin and her eyes open wide. Within them, the secret of the Void was hidden. So close, hidden within the deepest heart of a maiden half my age, and yet I could not grasp its meaning. Her soul, her father’s soul…the blackness of the stars. Something…”
Then it was closed to me. I smiled at my own foolishness. It was not yet time for me to know the truth.
“Patience.” In the echo of my voice, I could hear the laughter of the elements.
We are not the only ones with riddles to solve…or secrets to hide.
Late this evening, she came to my humble door. I found myself smiling as her young servant maid bowed to beg my permission for the Phoenix maiden to approach. Eager to continue our conversations, I bid her enter.
But this was not like the other nights of sharp wit and courtier’s games. Tonight Kaede seemed distraught, and her dark hair hung thickly about her shoulders. Managing an impeccable bow, she rose to greet me, but I waved her to the pillows by my side. Lifting my chopsticks, I speared a small piece of cucumber as she delicately reached for her bow. Such courtiers, these Phoenix, for all that they know the mysteries of the Kami. If I had not known better, I would have assumed the maiden beside me was a Crane. Hair, long and dark, and a hint of beauty to her face, did nothing to disguise the ready intelligence behind her black brows. Too much intelligence.
We spoke of Shinsei and Togashi, and the legends of our clans. “They are so alike,” she said, hiding her thoughts behind a smile. “It is surprising that our clans have not grown closer.”
“Do you think so?” I asked.
“Of all the Kami, only Togashi and Shiba knew the value of silence – Togashi when Shinsei spoke, and Shiba, when he was asked to kneel before Isawa,” Kaede murmured. “We must learn from their sacrifices and gains.”
“Oh?” I hoped to draw her out, find where her thoughts were hiding.
“Togashi’s tale seems to show the same sort of sacrifice. His determination to fast until he discovered Shinsei’s meaning is a sacrifice for the future of his clan, don’t you think?”
I looked at her placidly, and silently lifted my cup to my lips.
She looked at me, her eyes dark. “Well, what do you think of the story?”
“What I think is not important. Togashi knows what he meant.”
Her eyes closed, and she sighed. As our conversation continued, my concern grew. Something was very wrong, and she was hiding it. As I pressed with questions, Kaede became distressed. We spoke of the Kami at length, and she told me of the legend of Shiba. “He sacrificed his pride, his birthright, and at last, his life – all for the sake of the clan.”
“And Shiba’s choice has given you strength?” I asked.
A moment. “No,” she whispered. “It has given the Isawa something else.”
I waited for her to continue, but she only stared out at the cold night as if she could see images on the wind. At last, she spoke again. “What do you expect of your students here in the Dragon schools, Tamori-san?” Something in her voice chilled me, and her black hair hung like a frozen waterfall.
As a servant poured more sake into my glass, I stroked my beard and replied carefully. “Only what they are capable of.”
She smiled, and a hint of sorrow spoke through her features. “How do you know what they are capable of?” She whispered, but her question was not for me, and so I did not answer. I could only wonder what her Masters had taught her, that brought such a strange mix of sense and absence to her eyes. At last, she returned, and her voice was stronger.
“Tamori-san,” she said in a level tone. “You spent many winter months with us, and you were a very gracious guest. I hope we were gracious hosts.”
Images of parties, revels, festooned ribbons through the brightly lit Phoenix halls, and tables of food that would rival the opulence of the Doji raced through my mind…and the libraries. Of all the things I had seen in the Phoenix lands, surely their libraries had held the most mystery for me. I spent long days between those tall shelves, reading each scroll with reverent hands. I remembered Kaede’s young eyes as she stood beside her crippled father. The Master of the Void. All my research had been unable to discover his mysterious abilities, unable to reveal his true face. He knew what I was searching for, and yet he did not prevent me.
Instead, he sent his daughter to our lands.
“Yes,” I replied. “Yes you were.”
“Did you learn anything while you stayed with us?”
“Yes. Yes I did.”
“What did you learn?” She leaned toward me, the candlelight shining from her dark skin and her eyes open wide. Within them, the secret of the Void was hidden. So close, hidden within the deepest heart of a maiden half my age, and yet I could not grasp its meaning. Her soul, her father’s soul…the blackness of the stars. Something…”
Then it was closed to me. I smiled at my own foolishness. It was not yet time for me to know the truth.
“Patience.” In the echo of my voice, I could hear the laughter of the elements.
We are not the only ones with riddles to solve…or secrets to hide.
