Brave Story

  People turned to each other.

  They’re gone. They’ve left. The demonkin are no more.

  It wasn’t long before the cheering began.

  Just at that moment in Gasara, Kee Keema was standing on the roof of the branch office swinging his axe. One foul demonkin clawed at his head, another went for his throat, and a third clung to his back. The waterkin thrashed, trying to throw his assailants off, while Meena joined the fray, wielding a frying pan she had taken from the lodge kitchen.

  “Off him! Fiend! Hang in there, Kee Keema!”

  “Won’t these guys ever give up?” he roared. He was covered with wounds, but still fought on, snapping at a demonkin’s claws with his bared teeth. “You won’t take me down that easy!”

  Kee Keema threw a demonkin aside, and Meena smacked it on the head with her frying pan.

  And it disappeared.

  They all disappeared. The countless demonkin swarming in the skies over Gasara faded away. Kee Keema and Meena stood, covered in black ash, dumbfounded.

  “What was that?”

  Kee Keema turned, spitting out a black clod of soot that had been a demonkin claw.

  Their eyes met, and both of them looked up. Then they looked higher, toward the tower they knew stood there in the vault of the sky.

  “It’s Wataru.”

  By the gates of the town of Gasara, the Knights of Stengel fought for all they were worth. There were elderly and children to protect, and many more demonkin to kill. The gates must be defended to the death.

  Looking to the left, a Knight could be seen throwing down his sword and picking up a flaming torch in its stead. To the right, a Knight lay prone, his life slowly ebbing from his body. Everywhere discarded greaves and helms were scattered on the ground.

  “Don’t give them an inch! Push them back!” the captain yelled to his men. None among them were unscathed. The demonkin were strong and not easily felled. One after another the Knights were crushed by the black wings of death.

  “Captain, look out!”

  After cutting down several of the demonkin, Captain Ronmel had lifted a hand to wipe the streaming sweat from his eyes, and in that moment, a demonkin had launched at him. Caught off-guard, the captain stumbled. One of his Knights charged, but he was caught by a dive-bombing demonkin and tossed aside. The demonkin rattled its claws in victory.

  “Captain!”

  One of the Knights crawled out of the barricade and took off his helmet. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Everywhere around him black dust was falling.

  What is this?

  The demonkin horde had disappeared. All of Gasara hung thick with black soot, as though everyone in town had decided to clean their chimneys at the exact same moment.

  But it wasn’t soot. It was the remains of the demonkin.

  The men stood slack, unable to understand their sudden victory. The Knight who was tossed aside by a demonkin attack was back on his feet. “Captain, Captain!”

  Ronmel was nowhere to be seen. All of the remaining Knights were covered in black. Not even the silver of their armor could shine through that dark falling mist. They gaped at the sky, waving their hands to brush aside the swirling particles where their enemy had been. Beneath a layer of grime, the hard expressions on their battle-weary faces softened into smiles.

  Is it over?

  It’s over.

  As suddenly as it began.

  Someone began singing a prayer to the Goddess. Everyone joined in.

  And Captain Ronmel was nowhere to be seen.

  The Knight was sure of what he had seen: a demonkin, its fangs buried into the captain’s neck, fangs stained red by a spray of blood. But now the demonkin were gone. All around him, the Knights were breathing sighs of relief, and cheering. It was the sound of victory.

  The demonkin were gone. But so was their captain.

  The Mirror of Eternal Shadow became dust, and the demonkin hordes became ash. Wataru quietly watched as the many particles of darkness found homes in the people of Vision, where they belonged. Blue skies returned to the city of Solebria.

  Wataru turned to the Goddess. She was smiling.

  “Thank you,” he said, returning her smile. “Thank you for granting my wish.”

  Suddenly the Goddess knelt and hugged him tight. “Thank you,” she said, but the voice was that of a girl. Kaori Daimatsu. Wataru was sure of it. At once, his heart leaped, and forgetting his restraint and embarrassment, forgetting that this was the Goddess of Destiny, Wataru returned the girl’s embrace.

  They sat there like that for a long time. In the warmth of the Goddess’s embrace, Wataru felt the warmth of so many others—his mother, Meena, Kee Keema, Kutz, and even Mitsuru.

  “Now, Traveler. The time has come for you to return to your world,” the Goddess said gently, her hand on Wataru’s shoulder.

  “I know.”

  “Go the way in which you came. Descend the stairs from my dais. Wayfinder Lau awaits you at the bottom.” She stood, smoothing out the folds in her robes. Then she brushed Wataru’s hair with the tips of her fingers. “Farewell.”

  Wataru looked up into her gentle smile and bowed deeply. Unable to find the appropriate words, he silently turned and left.

  Wataru felt empty. He was happy and almost dizzy with relief. But with each step down the stairway he felt as though he were walking through a void.

  I’m floating. My eyes are open, but I see nothing. I’m just swimming through an endless blue void.

  It took him a long time before he noticed the silver boots, their toes covered with mud, and the clang, clang of steel-shod feet upon the stairs.

  Captain Ronmel was standing on the landing just below him.

  He looked up, saw Wataru, and once again resumed climbing slowly. He’s coming toward me.

  Captain Ronmel held his silver helm under one arm. Blood and grit caked his wild blond hair. Several long scratches scored his chest plate. He walked slowly, tiredly, his shoulders hanging low. A wound gaped on his neck, the blood caked and dried.

  “Captain Ronmel? Why are you here?”

  Ronmel climbed until he was standing on the same landing as Wataru.

  “This is the Tower of Destiny…why?”

  He took a quiet breath before responding. “I was chosen.”

  Wataru didn’t understand.

  “I was chosen. To be the Half. To be the sacrifice,” the captain continued, his voice resonating in the empty space of the tower. “The other Half will join me in becoming a Lord of the Underworld, to raise once again the Great Barrier of Light. Together we will protect life in Vision for the next one thousand years.”

  The sacrifices—Halnera.

  “The…other half?”

  Captain Ronmel put his grimy, cracked gauntlet on Wataru’s shoulder. “You completed your journey. That alone should be answer enough.”

  Oh. Mitsuru.

  “I go now to the Goddess. I’m glad we met here. To send off a Traveler from Vision is a great honor…it lessens the burden of sacrifice.” The edge of his mouth jerked upward into a smile.

  The feel of the captain’s hand on his shoulder brought Wataru’s sense of touch back to him in a sudden rush. The strength returned to his legs. His blurred thoughts regained their focus.

  “No tears,” Captain Ronmel said, his blue eyes fixing sternly on Wataru. “This is not a sad thing. Do not cry.”

  Unable to speak, Wataru merely frowned and nodded.

  “You were the one who broke the Mirror of Eternal Shadow?”

  Wataru nodded again.

  “On behalf of all the people of Vision, I thank you.”

  Wataru remembered what he had to say. He had so many things to say, but one thing came out first. “Captain!”

  No tears.

  “I-I couldn’t save her. I let Kutz die.”

  The captain raised an eyebrow then lowered his eyes. “I see.”

  “She was guarding two children in Solebria. I don’t know what happened—but she kept fig
hting. Even when she dropped her whip she went at those demonkin with her bare hands.”

  “How like her.”

  Wataru choked back a sob.

  “In Vision, when a person dies, they become light.”

  “Kee Keema taught me.”

  “Very well. And you know that eventually, she will be reborn?”

  “Yes.”

  The captain’s gaze softened, and the smile returned to his face. “Then I will be watching over the Vision into which Kutz is reborn. That suits me. That suits me quite well.”

  Wataru knew he was wasn’t just putting on a brave face—he truly meant what he said.

  “And I hope that when a thousand years are past, and my duty is finally complete, I too will become light. Then I’ll be reborn in the same place as her, so many lives later. We never did finish our last argument to my satisfaction.”

  Now he’s posing.

  “Tell the truth. You don’t want to argue with her again.”

  The captain threw his head back and laughed. “Go now. I would like to be the last to see you off on your final journey.”

  For a moment he stood there, looking at the captain.

  “Brave Traveler,” Captain Ronmel put his fist to his chest in the Knights’ salute. “May the Goddess of Destiny watch over you, even in the real world.”

  “Thank you.” Wataru returned his salute, and began to walk. He could feel the captain’s gaze on him, pushing him.

  He didn’t look back.

  At the bottom of the stairs, Wayfinder Lau was waiting, just as the Goddess had said. He stood casually with his staff held in both arms. He looked as if he had just sent Wataru on some errand and was impatiently waiting for him to return.

  “Shall we?” Wataru said, coming to a stop before him.

  The Swamp of Grief and the translucent collage of towns and villages were gone. He now walked through a void much like the one swirling around the staircase. Wataru walked quietly, following behind the Wayfinder. He couldn’t even see what they were walking on.

  His mind went blank, as empty as his surroundings.

  Then the Porta Nectere loomed into view—the giant gate between the real world and Vision, its apex lost in clouds and mist.

  It seemed like a thousand years had already passed since he last saw it.

  Wayfinder Lau stopped a good distance before reaching the gate. Tilting his head, he gave Wataru an inquisitive look. “You have given the Demon’s Bane back to the Goddess?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then to me you must return the pendant that marks you as a Traveler.”

  As directed, Wataru gave back the pendant. Wayfinder Lau took it and put it in a pocket of his robe. “You journeyed well.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Your adventure is your own. No one may ever take it from you.”

  “Yes.”

  The Wayfinder’s long whiskers swayed. Maybe he was smiling, but even if he was, it was only for a second. Still, for that moment, the loud, ornery old man seemed like a different person entirely.

  I’m going home. I no longer belong to Vision. I have to remember there will always be a wall between myself and Wayfinder Lau’s world. It is a wall that I will never cross again.

  The Wayfinder placed a thin hand like a withered branch of a tree on Wataru’s shoulder. “Little child of man who must live in the real world. I shall not meet you again. May your journey through the rest of your life be as fortunate as your journey through Vision.”

  Wataru nodded. “Wayfinder, I have a request.”

  The old man’s eyebrows twitched.

  “What could you possibly want at this end of ends?”

  Wataru took off his firewyrm bracelet and handed it to him. “I want you…to take this back for me. Take it back to the people who will know what it means—this will tell them that I have finished my journey successfully and returned to the real world.”

  Wayfinder Lau made such a sour face that Wataru suddenly became worried. “Did…I ask too much?”

  “It is not a difficult request, boy. But I think there is no need. Your traveling companions should already know of your safe return by now.”

  “Still, if you would. Please, give it to them.”

  Wataru bowed. Wayfinder Lau stood motionless.

  Then Wataru heard a sigh from above his head. “Very well, very well. I shall take the armband. I suppose it can’t hurt.”

  Wataru’s heart skipped.

  “Mmm?” Wayfinder Lau suddenly looked up toward the sky. “Ah, we’ll get quite a good view from here, I should think.”

  Wataru followed Wayfinder Lau’s gaze upward.

  High up in the void above them, a glimmering white curtain of light flowed elegantly across the sky. Its radiance was breathtaking, like an aurora of pure light that grew and grew until it filled Wataru’s eyes. Its gentle curves softly ebbed through the air, like the fingers of a mother upon an infant’s head.

  “The new Barrier of Light,” Wayfinder Lau said quietly.

  The shining curtain swept the sky with a fresh radiance, drawing farther and farther away as it headed for its destination where it would remain for the next one thousand years.

  “Halnera is finished. And you saw it happen.”

  Wataru nodded and reached out to grab Wayfinder Lau’s hand. He held it firmly, saying nothing.

  Then he turned and looked up at the Porta Nectere.

  Without a sound, the great white gates slid open. After Wataru passed over the threshold, they would not open for another decade. When they did swing open again, another Traveler would enter Vision. For Wataru, his journey was over.

  “Wataru,” Wayfinder Lau called out. “In time, you will forget Vision. You will forget this extraordinary adventure. But the truth shall remain within you.”

  “The truth…”

  Everything I’ve learned on my journey. I get to keep all that.

  “You will have your truth, but only when you leave,” Wayfinder Lau said sternly. He then stepped aside, opening the path for Wataru. “Go home now, Traveler. You must live out your life as a child of the real world.”

  Wataru walked forward step by irreversible step. The gates were open, welcoming him.

  What was waiting for him back home? What would he feel back in the real world? How would he live back in his old life?

  However I want to.

  When he first came here, Wataru was alone. Now I’m not. Everyone’s with me. Mitsuru, and Kutz; Meena, and Kee Keema too. And the Goddess in all her beauty…

  In the National Observatory at Lourdes, Dr. Baksan stood quietly atop his wooden boots and looked out the window. Romy stood by his side.

  “Doctor,” she called to him.

  “I know what you would say. But now, you should be quiet.” And, he thought to himself, you should be observing this, my wayward students. All of you!

  “It’s disappearing, isn’t it?”

  The old scholar did not respond. Together, the two stared at the sky in silence.

  After a time, he turned to his young student. “The Porta Nectere will be closing now,” he said, punctuating his declaration with a sudden, violent sneeze.

  Romy quickly reached out, grabbing the old scholar by his collar so he wouldn’t topple off his boots and fall straight out the window.

  The Spectacle Machine circus troupe had set up its great tent just outside the town of Gasara. But there was no performance. The tent was being used as a makeshift hospital and a refugee camp.

  The town doctor was busy. Even if there had been two of him, he would still not be able to get everything done. Meena, who had so recently been fending off demonkin with a frying pan, was helping as a nurse.

  She didn’t want to stop. She was afraid she might start to think about everything that had happened recently. She kept her mind on the task at hand, and she was grateful that she was needed to deal with emergency after emergency. A child crying over there, an injured man moaning over here. Where’re the band
ages? Where’s the salve?

  “Meena!” Bubuho stood at the entrance to the grand tent. “Over here. Granny wants to speak with you.”

  Meena wove through the cots, sometimes stepping over people to get to the door.

  “I wish I had five or six more hands, they’ve got me so busy. Does Granny need me right away?”

  “Ask her yourself—she’s right outside,” Bubuho said, a gentle look in his eyes. “And you need to rest. Even just to catch your breath. I can see the worry swimming in your eyes.”

  Meena stepped outside. Granny had pulled out a small table and chair where she now sat. She was gazing into the depths of her crystal ball.

  Evening had come while Meena was busy tending to patients. The darkening pink of dusk stretched above her head. The evil black shadows of the demonkin were nowhere to be seen.

  Wataru saved us. He went to the Goddess and wished the demonkin away.

  —Later, Meena.

  She remembered his words as they stood next to the walls of Solebria.

  It had been a promise, one he kept.

  What about Wataru’s wish? Was this the end Wataru wanted for his journey? All the questions she had desperately tried to keep from asking were now welling up inside.

  Meena reprimanded herself. She pushed aside all the other questions, finding the one that resonated the strongest, shaking her heart.

  Will I ever see Wataru again?

  Then she shook her head. It’s my own fault. He’s from the real world. He was a Traveler.

  Granny noticed her footsteps, and hunching over even further, she looked around. “Ah, you’ve come.” Granny gave the crystal ball a light pat with her fingers. She extended her hand toward Meena. “You will not need to look into the ball to see. Here, lend me a hand.”

  Meena took Granny’s withered hand in hers. The old woman tugged at her, leading her farther away from the great tent. Then she looked up. “Do you see?”

  Meena’s gaze turned skyward. Even the beauty of the sunset failed to stir her. “Granny, there’s nothing. Just…nothing.”

  “It is disappearing,” the old woman said, pointing a finger at a quarter of the sky.