Leslie Moore - Griffin's Shadow

Gran ceased her narrative and fell silent.

Ashinji extended a hand and laid it atop her folded ones. Such an air of sadness hung about her that Ashinji momentarily forgot his own grief.

“You told me I reminded you of someone you’d lost. Who?” he asked.

“I had five sons. My youngest was about your age when he died. You remind me of him. His name was Taka…” Her voice broke, and a single tear slid from her left eye and trickled down her cheek.

Ashinji could think of nothing to say. Mere words could not serve in the face of such overwhelming tragedy. He continued to hold her hands, waiting until she could speak again.

“Ashinji, the Kirians must regain control of the Key. Any other possibility is unthinkable,” Gran continued at last. Her face settled into an expression of fierce determination. “I now have a reason to return to Alasiri… and you must come with me.”

“We’ll need all the help we can muster,” Ashinji said. “This human, Tilo. You have no idea when he’s coming back?”

“No. In the meantime, I’ll speak to Aruk-cho. Better that I approach him first. He will need a bit of persuading, but I’ll bring him around.”

“I did sort of promise to take Seijon with me if I ever tried to break out of the yard.” Ashinji rubbed his jaw in annoyance. “I’m beginning to regret it. He’s barely old enough to hold a weapon, much less fight with one. I’m afraid I’ll just get him killed. He doesn’t deserve such a fate, Gran.”

“That boy is a lot tougher and more resourceful than you think. He had to be, to survive on the streets. Don’t waste time worrying about him. He can handle himself well when he needs to. Besides, I couldn’t bear to leave him behind, either.”

Now that they had made the decision to escape, Ashinji felt an odd kind of peace descend upon him, even though he recognized the long odds for success.

So much of this depends on sheer luck, he thought. If Aruk-cho will help us, if this human called Tilo returns and is also willing to help…maybe, just maybe, I’ll hold Jelena and our child in my arms again.

He refused to think of what might be required of them once they were finally reunited.

Winter had begun giving way to spring, and in Alasiri, that meant rain. The daily precipitation saturated the ground and turned the roads to mud, making even the shortest trip a tedious slog. The gravel-paved streets of Sendai did not fare much better. The unusually heavy rainfall soon overwhelmed the network of channels and gutters that normally kept the city from flooding.

Another soggy, gloomy day , Jelena thought as she made her way through mid-afternoon traffic enroute to Sateyuka’s house. She took special care to detour around the many pools of standing water, acutely aware that one misstep could send her crashing to the slick ground. Wrapped from head to toe in a gray wool cloak, scarf, slouchy hat, and gloves, she traveled in complete anonymity. If anyone happened to glance at her, she would look like just another pregnant hikui woman.

In Sateyuka’s peaceful home, Jelena could shed the persona of royal princess and just be herself. She treasured the quiet, private time she spent with her friend.

Sateyuka greeted Jelena at the door with an affectionate kiss on the cheek, then helped her guest to remove her heavy outerwear.

“Go on into the sitting room and thaw out! Your skin is like ice,” she exclaimed. “I’ll just take these wet things into the kitchen to dry.” Jelena did as instructed and with a heartfelt sigh, she lowered herself awkwardly onto the couch before the fireplace and stretched her feet toward the flames.

“Oh, here, let me help you get your boots off,” Sateyuka offered as she entered the room, a heavily laden tray in her hands.

“No, please, Sateyuka. You don’t have to do that!” Jelena protested as her friend went to her knees and grabbed a foot.

“Don’t be silly, girl. How else are you going to get these off, eh? Big as you are? When’s the last time you saw your own feet?”

Jelena giggled. “It has been awhile. I’ll be seeing them soon, though. My doctor says the baby can come any time now.”

“By the look of you, she’ll be a big baby. There, now… Doesn’t that feel better?” Sateyuka placed Jelena’s boots on the hearth. The smell of steaming leather filled the small room.

“Ahhhh,” Jelena sighed. “That does feel nice.”

“I have your favorite,” Sateyuka sang. She brought the tray over to where Jelena reclined and set it down on a small table. “How the confectioner was able to find lemons at this time of year… well, I just don’t know, but here they are.”

“Sateyuka, you are too good to me.” Jelena smiled and bit into the crisp little ball of pastry. The sweet-tart taste of lemon burst delightfully on her tongue.

“Nonsense! You’re like a daughter to me. You should know that by now.”

“I do,” Jelena replied. “That day I first saw you in the marketplace, I knew I had to follow you and find out who you were. It was as if the gods, or the Goddess, wanted us to meet.”

“She knew you’d need a special place-a haven-where you could escape the unique pressures of your life.”

“I know you’re my friend, Sateyuka, but sometimes, I feel guilty coming here. To Jokimichi, I mean. I’ve been living in my father’s house for almost a year now, and still, nothing has changed for the hikui people. They’re still denied equality under the law-a law my father can change, yet does not! I get so angry at times…with him, with my uncle…with all okui. Every day, I see how the hikui servants are treated at the castle, and I can’t help but wonder if, secretly, they resent me because I have all the rights and privileges of a full-blooded elf.”

Sateyuka set down her teacup and patted Jelena’s hand. “My dear, I can’t speak for all the hikui of Sendai, but I can tell you what many of my friends and neighbors are saying about Princess Jelena. They say the princess is kind, loving, and gracious… a young woman of exceptional character. Jelena, our people love you, and want only the best for you. They view you as a symbol of hope for all hikui.”

“I can’t help but feel I’ve let all hikui down.” Jelena stared morosely into the dark green depths of her tea. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be the symbol of hope for an entire group of people-the burden seemed too enormous.

“You’ve done no such thing, sweet girl. No reasonable person expects you to change, single-handedly, an unjust system that’s been in place since Alasiri has been a nation. You don’t realize the enormous value of you simply being who you are. In the short time you’ve been living in Sendai, the attitudes of the okui are starting to change. Oh, it’s subtle, but it’s real. I can feel it, and so can others.”

“How do you mean?” Jelena asked.

“I overheard two okui merchants talking in the market the other day. One actually wondered aloud whether it seemed fair to continue to deny hikui artisans membership in the guilds when so many of them were as skilled, or more so, than their okui counterparts. It may not sound like much, but it’s definitely a start.”

Jelena massaged her belly and closed her eyes, focusing her thoughts inward on her soon-to-be born daughter, Hatora. Most okui mothers could touch the minds of their children while they floated safe in the womb, but Jelena had yet to feel the consciousness of her own baby. Disappointed at first, she had soon become resigned to it, though she still tried from time to time.

“I pray that when my daughter is my age, she will live in a different world than we do, Sateyuka.”