Chapter 6
The days blurred together in a haze of peace and quiet happiness Eli had barely dared hope for. Nothing had changed - they still woke up, prepared themselves for a day of travel, watched the same dirt roads scroll by under their feet and slept under unfamiliar roofs or skies. But at the same time, everything was new and precious.
For example: Kotori discovered that she liked to wake Eli up with tiny kisses to the nose. Eli discovered that she liked to slip her hand in Kotori’s as they walked, and swing them to the rhythm of the little tunes Kotori whistled. Kotori discovered that flowers looked very, very pretty when braided into Eli’s hair. Eli discovered that Kotori liked it an awful lot when she swung Kotori up into her arms as they crossed a stream to keep her shoes from getting wet. (Eli liked it an awful lot, too.)
She almost forgot what they had set out to search for.
After the sixth passerby in two hours, Kotori commented, “There are so many people travelling today.”
“It’s because of Alisa’s inauguration,” Eli said. She watched the most recent ox-drawn cart move away with a practiced eye. Yes - there, in the back, half a dozen crates of imported fresh fruit for a celebration, when even simple villagers would be more willing to spend coin on the luxury.
“Your sister?”
“She’ll be the heir presumptive - if I don’t name another heir before I retire or die, she’ll be the next Seneschal.” Eli rubbed the back of her neck with a grimace. “I did tell my grandmother that I won’t be having children regardless. But if I adopt, claim to the office could go either way.”
Then Eli remembered. It wouldn’t matter if they found the ruler on this pilgrimage. The office of the Seneschal would fade in importance - uncapitalised, no longer the major authority of the country. It wasn’t even guaranteed that the Ayases would be the next seneschals.
Would Eli be the last of her family to pass the flame on?
Kotori looked troubled. “I’d rather not think about you dying, thank you very much,” she told Eli firmly.
Eli chuckled. “Neither would I, but someone has to. There haven’t been any major wars for centuries now, but if there are… Seneschals lead from the front.” She had a legacy to live up to, anyway.
“I’ll just have to protect you then,” Kotori said decisively, as if that solved the matter. At Eli’s incredulous look, she drew herself up with righteous indignance. “I can defend myself, too. I might not be a warrior, but even messengers can get in trouble.”
“If you protect me and I protect you, I think we might be alright then,” allowed Eli.
Kotori nodded with the benevolence of a ruler. “As long as that’s clear,” she said solemnly. They managed to hold the grave facade for all of a few seconds before Eli snickered and Kotori joined her.
When the giggles had subsided, Eli said, “Though it wouldn’t matter much if we find the ruler. I don’t know what kind of role they’d have me play.”
“Mmh,” said Kotori sympathetically. She twisted strands of grass between her fingers, pleating them over and over.
“What about you? Will you… could you stay?”
Kotori focused on the grass. “Maybe,” she said slowly. “I think so. We’ll see.”
Something had come down like gates in her eyes; it showed in the way she picked around her words. Eli was watching her, wondering if she could ask a little more, but a shout caught her attention.
Someone was yelling her name.
“Eliiii!” Even as her hand dropped to rest on her sword hilt, Eli recognised the gleeful voice. She’d grown up with it, after all.
“Honoka, sit down, you’ll throw us off!!” Eli had also grown up with that exasperated voice.
Behind them was Honoka Kousaka, stood balanced on the seat of their wagon and beaming like the sun. Umi Sonoda, daughter of the groundsmaster himself, clutched the reins of their ponies with white-knuckled fingers. It was probably the only thing keeping her from bodily seizing Honoka and dragging her back down to seat level.
“Friends of yours?” Kotori asked, shading her eyes and staring openly.
“Yeah…” Eli laughed nervously, watching Honoka sway precariously and Umi’s shoulders jump to her ears with anticipatory terror. “They’re good people, just… Honoka tends to drag everybody along at her own pace, so try not to get caught up.”
The warning was heard, heeded, and yet entirely useless. The cart drew up alongside them and Honoka leapt at Eli with open arms. Eli yelped, caught Honoka, spun in a desperate attempt to maintain balance, and somehow managed to keep them upright.
“I missed you so much!” Honoka sniffed into her shoulder. “And Yukiho, and Mom and Dad, but I feel like I haven’t talked to you for ages. You didn’t even come see me off before I left this time!”
Eli patted Honoka’s head soothingly. “I’m sorry, I was busy with the trade agreements,” she said. “I saw you off every other time, though, remember?” Inspiration struck her. “Wait a minute, your mother asked me to deliver something to you.”
Meanwhile, Umi had dismounted the wagon and helpfully pried Honoka off Eli. Her lips were pinched in scandalised shock. “Honoka! Even if you’re childhood friends, we shouldn’t be interrupting the Seneschal’s pilgrimage! Do you have any idea how serious it is?”
“It’s all right,” Eli said placatingly. “As long as you don’t go yelling my name everywhere. I’m supposed to be incognito after all - ah, here it is.” She pulled the biscuits out of a saddlebag and dangled them invitingly. She’d saved them on a hunch, though not without a little regret. The Kousakas weren’t the royal bakers for nothing.
At the sight of her mother’s baking, Honoka yelled and dove for them. Umi let her with a sigh. While Honoka was occupied with reciting the virtues of homemade biscuits in between bites, Umi gave Eli a bow, formal as ever. “I’m sorry for the trouble,” she said as she straightened.
How many times Eli had heard Umi say that in their shared past. “Like I said, don’t worry about it,” she said with a wave of her hand, dismissing Umi’s worries. “How has your trip been so far? You must’ve had your hands full.”
“Not bad, not bad,” Umi demurred. She smiled at Eli, and reflexively, Eli smiled back. Behind all the formalities, Eli did count Umi as one of her friends. “No trouble on the roads, plenty of performances. We won’t run short of coin, that’s for sure.” Umi glanced over Eli’s shoulder and added, “What about yours? I notice you’ve picked up a travelling companion.”
Honoka had noticed Kotori at the same time. Swallowing down a massive mouthful of crumbs and dusting her hands off, she stuck one out, grinning. “Hello! My name’s Honoka, assistant baker and travelling performer. It’s nice to meet you!”
“Nice to meet you too,” Kotori echoed, clasping Honoka’s hand with only a little trepidation. It disappeared when Honoka shook her hand enthusiastically and then immediately offered a cookie.
Eli barely had any time to worry before Umi cleared her throat delicately, still waiting for an answer. “Oh, Kotori’s… a seer, probably. I found her on the way out of the capital, and since we were going the same way, I offered to travel with her.”
“Is that so,” Umi said slowly. She looked Kotori over again. To Eli’s mild horror, Honoka was demonstrating an illusion magic trick with delight. Kotori reached out with wide eyes to touch the bear cub in Honoka’s palm before snatching her hand back with a squeak as the bear cub roared squeakily.
“Yes,” Eli said feebly. “It was only convenient, after all.”
“Wasn’t the plan to travel with Nico? Where is she?”
Damn it, Umi was too sharp.
Eli scrabbled for an excuse. “Nico’s… mother was a little ill, so even though she insisted on accompanying me, I ordered her to stay behind. Besides, I’ve found it’s been informative travelling without any reminders of my station. I’ve learnt a lot.” At least the second half, true as it was, came out smoothly.
Just as Umi’s silence started to stretch uncomfortably and Eli was on the verge of babbling to cover it, Kotori darted over to seize Eli’s hand. “Eli, did you see what Honoka did? She can stand on her hands!”
Umi looked from Eli to Kotori, then from Kotori to Eli, then back again. Eli could practically see the somersaults of emotion on her face as she came to her conclusion. Before Eli could say anything, Umi immediately lit up red as a tomato.
“Umi - “
“It’s not my place to tell you what to do Eli but there is a certain amount of decorum that the Seneschal should uphold and while I hesitate to call this truly shameless I do hope, very strongly, that you are aware of the consequences of your actions both short- and long-term and that you are prepared to deal with them though I’m sure Kotori is a lovely person and I think you deserve to find your own happiness,” Umi garbled in a rush. “Excuse me. I have to go check our wagon wheels. For… splinters.”
“Uh-huh,” Eli said numbly. Umi nodded, a hard jerk, then spun on her heels and marched away, stiff as a marionette.
Well. At least that meant no more questions from Umi.
Eli looked at Kotori helplessly, and started to say something. Then she stopped and looked more closely at Kotori’s face. Guile-free as her smile was, the look in her eyes was that of a person who knew exactly what she was doing.
“You,” Eli began, and stopped, awed.
“Hm?” Kotori said sweetly. “Is there something wrong?”
Eli shook her head in wonder. “No… no, nothing.”
Honoka came over to loop her arm over her new friend’s shoulders. “So Eli,” she said, almost about to start bouncing on her feet, “do you have some time? Do you want to come see me and Umi perform?”
“Please?” Kotori added, looking up at Eli, and oh, Eli didn’t expect this weapon to be turned on her so easily and without any hesitation.
“Why not,” she said, holding her hands out powerlessly. “Kotori and I don’t really have a strict schedule. Is this for Alisa’s…?”
“Yeah! We’re going to Akihabara. We were due for a repeat soon anyway. We’re performing tomorrow, so do you wanna hop on with us? It’s not far, I promise, and it’ll be a lot faster than walking.”
There were a hundred ways this could go wrong. Somehow, Eli didn’t think Umi would be easily talked into keeping Kotori a secret, devout as her family was. Still, the plaintive look Kotori was giving her - and the chance of seeing Honoka and Umi perform again -
In the face of her loved ones, Eli threw her inhibitions to the winds. “That would be great,” she said with a grin, and held her hand out to help Kotori up into the wagon.
As it turned out, Honoka and Umi were excellent travelling companions. Honoka cracked jokes and kept a running commentary on the scenery they passed. Umi was the perfect counterpart, butting in to keep Honoka settled when necessary, but otherwise a calm and excellent wagon driver. When she was quiet, Eli sometimes saw her smiling softly out of the corner of her eye.
Kotori was positively chuffed to be on her first non-foot-powered transportation. She leaned her head out of the back of the wagon to watch the road roll away rapidly, and looked startled every time they jolted over a bump.
At the inn, Umi broke into a coughing fit when Eli only requested one room for the two of them, but otherwise kept from commenting. Honoka seemed blissfully oblivious. Either that, or she knew and thought it perfectly normal; Eli could never tell with Honoka. Either way, she evidently adored Kotori. Their conversation ran long past their dinner until Umi pulled a yawning Honoka up from her seat.
“We have a performance tomorrow,” she chided gently. “Save your voice. Goodnight, Eli, Kotori. It was lovely meeting you.” She inclined her head - not even a direct order to hide Eli’s identity could stifle Umi’s sense of propriety - and hauled Honoka away like a mother wolf picking up her stray pup.
“You too,” Eli said to Kotori, whose hair was dangling dangerously close to her unfinished apple pie. For an instant, the image of Eli handwashing Kotori’s hair flashed in her mind; then Eli shook it off and reached to tuck Kotori’s hair away safely. “Let’s go sleep. It’s been a long day.”
“Mhm,” said Kotori drowsily. She blinked at Eli, slow and languorous, before allowing herself to be helped up from her seat and guided up the inn stairs.
She sat on the bed and rubbed her eyes as Eli unlaced her boots and pulled them off carefully one after another. “How chivalric,” she yawned.
Eli dropped a kiss on Kotori’s clothed knee. “Thank you,” she said agreeably. “Do you want me to help you move your blankets?”
“Mmh… no.” Kotori gestured. Eli, weaving unsurely with Kotori’s fuzzy signals, eventually ended up laying on the bed.
Kotori rolled onto her front and tucked her head against the curve of Eli’s shoulder, draping her arm over Eli’s stomach. Eli’s hand came around automatically and settled in the curve of Kotori’s spine, just between her wing joints. If Eli inhaled, she could smell the sweet scent of the flowers Kotori had worn earlier lingering in her hair.
“Comfortable?” Kotori mumbled.
Eli lay very still and willed her heart not to overflow. “Very,” she mumbled back, and capped the candle, dropping another kiss on Kotori’s temple as she did.
In the secretive dark, Eli felt her muscles unwind against the mattress. Kotori nuzzled her nose against Eli’s shoulder. There was restlessness in her squirms to get closer to Eli.
Eli carded her hand through Kotori’s hair and whispered, “A copper for your thoughts?”
Kotori’s eyes glinted gold at her. “I like Honoka. She’s very nice, and she knows so many things, even though she doesn’t seem like it. Umi is nice too.” Her eyes narrowed to mischievous half-moons. “She reminds me of you a little bit. Very dashing, a little worried all the time.”
“I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment or not,” Eli said with amusement.
“What about you? A… copper for your thoughts?”
“Thinking about Alisa,” Eli admitted. “If she’s scared, if she’s holding up well. I’m a little homesick, I guess. We haven’t been apart for a long time.”
Kotori traced the tendon in Eli’s forearm for a quiet moment. She offered, “I’m sure she’ll be fine. She’s your sister, after all.”
“Mm.” Thoughts of Alisa led to thoughts of their grandmother. She was getting on in years; how long, until Eli and Alisa became the last Ayases in the country? How long until Eli would be bereft of the former Seneschal’s guidance?
Trying to turn her thoughts around, Eli asked, “Are you homesick, Kotori?”
“No,” she said without any hesitation.
Eli craned her head to try and get a clearer look at Kotori’s face, wondering what she was thinking. Sensing Eli’s confusion, Kotori added, “It doesn’t feel like I really had a home to want before. Don’t look sad, Eli. You can’t miss what you haven’t had.”
The worst thing was that Eli knew exactly what she meant. In response, Eli tightened her grip on Kotori. She wanted to press Kotori against her, grow Kotori in the safety of her soul. I’ll be here, she wanted to say.
But the words wouldn’t move. Not when the Seneschal couldn’t make any promises she might not be able to keep.
A firecracker popped right outside their window. Eli groaned and shielded her eyes from the morning light, burying her face in Kotori’s hair.
She heard Kotori giggle. “Come on, Eli, we have to get up.”
“Don’ wanna,” she mumbled, drawing her person-pillow closer to her. It was warm and safe and entirely too comfortable to leave.
“Poor baby,” Kotori said, patting Eli’s head patronisingly. Eli was about to file a complaint when a door-rattling series of knocks had her groaning.
“Eli! Kotori! Wake up!” yelled Honoka’s muffled voice through the door. “The merchants are already out, you’ll miss the festival if you sleep any more!”
“I can’t believe Umi’s managed to turn her into a morning person,” Eli grumbled, sliding out of bed with perhaps a little more slouch than necessary. Kotori patted her head again.
“I think she’s just excited for the festival,” she said, being entirely too reasonable and awake for such a good morning to sleep in. It’d been months since Eli had last slept in. Eli looked at the bed wistfully before she heaved a sigh and toed her way into her boots.
Downstairs, the inn’s dining area was practically empty. The innkeeper was undisturbed. “They’ll be back in the night for drinks,” she said at Eli’s confused face. “Go get your breakfasts outside, loves. It’s the little Ayase’s day, you should have some fun.”
The little Ayase. “I suppose that makes me the big Ayase,” Eli muttered under her breath to Kotori, who hummed consideringly and stretched on tiptoes till Eli went cross-eyed trying to look at her. The top of her head came just up to Eli’s eyes.
“I suppose that does,” agreed Kotori blithely, and took the opportunity to peck Eli on the lips.
Outside, the streets swarmed with celebrators. Eli and Kotori walked side by side with farmers with dirt-creased hands enjoying a rare day off, gap-toothed children who shrieked and chased each other with bright paper fans, and other wide-eyed travellers. Somewhere, there was music playing; it carried faintly on the wind wherever they went.
“Honoka and Umi’s show is in the town center,” Eli said loudly over the noise. “We should go save a spot before it fills up.”
Kotori nodded and stuck close to Eli’s back as they pushed their way through the crowd. The chatter swelled as they approached the densest areas of the celebration.
Honoka was standing on the top of the little makeshift wooden stage the townspeople had set up over the night. Her face lit up when she saw Eli and Kotori, and she waved enthusiastically. Kotori waved her and Eli’s joined hands back with just as much vigor.
Don’t, it’s unbefitting of the Seneschal-to-be - but right now, Eli was nobody. She felt the grin on her face stretch, buoyed by the crowd’s energy.
“Is everybody ready?” Honoka yelled into the crowd, cupping her hands. There was a ring to her words: a little boost of magic, to help her voice reach everybody. The crowd yelled back their assent, and the show began.
When Eli was young and unafraid to play with the castle’s servants’ children, Honoka had dragged her to an empty room and puffed her chest out proudly. “Look what I can do!” she had announced, and pulled an orange fox out of the air. It had crouched in her palm, all sparks of light and air, peering at Eli.
Even as her parents gently guided her back to their traditional baking business again and again, Honoka was determined to share her illusions of light with everybody. Eli was her test audience more than once.
And now, for the first time, Eli was watching the fruits of her labour.
There was a certain charisma to Honoka, which let her dance across the stage with her constructs of light, singing songs scribbled with Umi. It bid everybody who heard to stop and listen. Honoka’s presence suspended reality - not long, but long enough for everybody to breathe and find their happiness again.
“She’s so good,” Kotori whispered. Eli glanced down at her. Kotori’s foot was tapping to the beat; surreptitiously, Eli rearranged her pack so her wings lay flatter. “She must have been so lucky, to be born with that kind of talent.”
“She didn’t start out this way. Honoka worked hard to learn what she knows now,” Eli murmured. On the stage, Honoka flung a hand out to her audience on a high note; the audience cheered her on. “I don’t know anybody who tries harder than her.”
A lull in the music. Kotori said, “Not even you?”
Eli didn’t have a choice. Not really; not like Honoka. All the things she’d learned to be a Seneschal were what the country needed of her. So it didn’t matter how hard she tried, as long as she didn’t fail. That was nothing like Honoka’s burning ambition, and the lengths she went to to achieve it.
“I…”
The performance was over. Hopefuls lingered, waiting to catch a glimpse of the performer as she wound down.
“We can go see her if we’re quick,” Eli said, and strode off into the crowd again, trusting Kotori would follow her.
Eli was a crudely carved chess piece, hastily made to replace the ivory her mother and grandmother had been. Once the ruler was found, she’d be swapped back out. The gods would return from their interim and resume playing with the right pieces. And Eli would have nowhere else to go, no role to fill.
When the time came, could she really hand over her life’s work to a stranger who had never held the country’s reins?
“Eli. Eli!” Kotori’s voice cut through the blank roar in her ears, bringing her to a halt. She turned, half-blind. There was Kotori, hand curled in Eli’s sleeve, looking at her with naked concern.
Eli forced a smile. “Sorry, I’m a little distracted. Did we walk right past Honoka and Umi?”
Kotori, however, refused to be diverted. “Did I say something wrong?” she asked. Her eyes were clouded with worry. “You’ve been acting a bit strange. Are you feeling alright?”
“Fine. A little… stressed, maybe. It’s nothing to worry about.” It was hard to remember Kotori’s purpose here, sometimes. But Eli wouldn’t let her own insecurities trouble Kotori.
“Stressed,” echoed Kotori. She still looked worried. Eli couldn’t think of anything to say, but before the silence stretched too long, Kotori said, “Honoka told me you liked to dance.”
“Yes?” Eli said, thrown by the sudden topic change. Kotori looked her up and down once, then nodded decisively.
“Then let’s dance,” she said, and hooked her arm into Eli’s.
Oh, Honoka and her big mouth. Still bewildered, Eli allowed herself to be tugged away, back to the town square.
A small band of musicians was setting up where Honoka had performed, tuning their instruments. The crowd was milling into formations - no, into partners and dance circles. Kotori, beaming, dragged Eli into the very center of it.
“Wait,” Eli called, but her words were lost in the chatter. The dancing she’d learnt was ballroom dance, stately and formal, partners touching each other minimally, begun and ended with extreme courtesy.
This, judging from the ribald tune the musicians struck up, was not that kind of dancing.
Before her worry could bubble into full-strength anxiety, Kotori was there, a hand in each of Eli’s. “It’s my first time dancing,” she confided with a bashful smile. “If we’re bad, we can be bad together, okay?”
The musicians finished the introduction and launched into the first verse. Drawn along inexorably, Eli and Kotori danced.
Kotori wasn’t very good, to start with. She stepped side to side, swinging her arms like walking sticks. Even Eli knew not to do that. So she danced a little closer to Kotori, swung their arms together, until Kotori copied her and loosened.
From there, it only got better.
Kotori was a shameless dance partner; every time she pushed too far into someone else’s space, she apologised with quick words and a smile that left the stranger nodding forgivingly. She tried out anything and everything she saw. When she saw a young man lift another in the air, her eyes took on a dangerously determined look, and Eli spent five minutes spinning out of her grasp as she tried to lift Eli.
The faster her feet flew, the more her thoughts slowed. All she had left to think about was the sweaty clutch of Kotori’s hands in her own palms, the beat of the music, and the way every muscle revelled in the exertion.
Eli danced, and danced, and danced, until she was as light and empty as the lanterns lighting up the dusk.
“Do you feel better?” Kotori said, sitting down beside Eli on the boulder. Eli stared into her cup of water, mind blissfully blank.
“Yeah,” she said. Her shoulder bumped Kotori’s. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it - it was a lot of fun for me, too.” Kotori tucked Eli’s sweaty bangs out of her face with the fine care of an artist mixing paint. “Do you want to talk to me now? I’ll hear anything you say, Eli.”
Years of eloquence training deserted Eli. Unlike her tutors, though, Kotori sat quietly with infinite patience. Eventually, Eli worked the words out of her mouth: “What if the ruler isn’t good?”
What if Eli was the ruler, and she was a terrible one? Worse, unthinkably, what if the gods chose wrongly? (Not that she could say that out loud, now that being smited for blasphemy was an actual possibility. She’d have to ask Kotori to be sure, though.)
“I think that whoever sits on the throne in the end will be whoever is most deserving,” Kotori said softly. “Most fitting. The best ruler the country could have in your lifetime.”
“And - and if it’s not me?”
“Then you’ll be free to find yourself another life.” Kotori winked. “Maybe a dancer.”
Eli choked on her water. “Or a professional divine messenger guide,” Kotori added, musing over the possibilities.
“Have some faith in yourself, Eli.” Kotori’s tone gentled. “Once we finish this journey, we’ll know for sure then. And then - somebody told me something about remaking yourself every day. If I’m not done growing after thousands of years, then neither are you.”
“Thousands,” repeated Eli. Her mind tried and failed to imagine Kotori any older than Eli herself.
“I’ve done more and felt more in these weeks than I have my entire life. It’s been like waking up from a dream. …So stop looking at me like I’m old, Eli,” Kotori chided with a pout.
Eli raised her hands in surrender. “Alright, alright… though we might have another problem now.”
“Hm?”
“Honoka and Umi have probably moved on by now. We’ve missed our chance to say goodbye,” Eli said. She felt a twinge of shame. She’d have to apologise to Honoka when they returned, and probably treat her to a meal for easy forgiveness.
“Oh,” Kotori said, drooping a little. “That’s alright. We’ll see each other again, won’t we?”
A movement in the corner of Eli’s eye caught her attention. She half-turned, hand going unconsciously to her empty sword belt. But there was nothing to worry about.
It was just Honoka, giving her a big thumbs up and an even bigger grin from behind a tree.
Eli stared. Honoka winked. Then Umi surged up from behind and seized Honoka in an expert hold, bowing her head repeatedly as she dragged Honoka away behind a building.
“Yeah… I’m sure we’ll see each other again…”
Eli wasn’t sure anymore who was meddling more in her life - the gods, or the royal baker’s daughter.