Chapter 9
“Hello,” Kotori said, trying her best to seem confident and not unspeakably nervous when the door opened. “Remember me?”
Hanayo gasped and opened the door fully. “Kotori! Come in, come in - how was your trip? Did the Seers say good things?”
“I think so…”
Hanayo giggled softly. “They’re a little strange, aren’t they?” she agreed. “But I think the things they tell you, they always turn out well in the end. Give it time.”
“Mmh.” Kotori twisted her hands. She’d get nowhere if she didn’t speak up… “Um, I was actually wondering! Did you want someone to help out? With the alpacas, and the inn?”
Hanayo blinked at her. “You mean, to hire you…?” she said slowly.
“Yes,” said Kotori, latching on to Hanayo’s hesitation with desperate eagerness. “I don’t know much, but I’m a fast learner - and um, I won’t be around long anyway, so if you can’t pay me that’s fine too, I’m sure I can manage…” Except she wasn’t sure if she could manage, why did she say that?
“Is Eli not with you?” Hanayo said curiously, peering past Kotori. “I thought you two were- “ Her hands flew to her mouth. “O-Oh no, did you two have a fight?”
“No, not really; I just thought we should travel separately for a bit.” Kotori glanced at her fingers, fiddling with the edge of Eli’s cloak. “I can’t keep relying on her,” she said softly.
Eli, who gave so much with a smile. Eli, who never asked for anything in return. Eli, who had a million things she could be doing, and instead, she spent her time and attention on Kotori, who only slowed her down.
“…I could use someone to help me herd the alpacas for a day or two,” Hanayo said. She was smiling warmly at Kotori. “Just so I have a bit of time to organise my spring stocks here. Not many people volunteer to look after the alpacas, and they don’t get along with just anyone either, you know.”
Sprawled on the grass, Kotori blew her bangs out of her eyes. Mr Alpaca looked up from his grazing to bleat at her.
“Having a job isn’t really what I thought it’d be like, Mr Alpaca,” she told him. The white animal chewed idly, looking away when it was clear Kotori had no food for him.
The only thing Kotori had to do was keep the alpacas from wandering off too far along the mountain’s meagre pastures - but that was hardly a task. They knew their routine better than Kotori did.
Which left Kotori with plenty of time to think alone.
She rolled the stout crooked staff in her hand, watching it spin over her face. Hanayo had given it to her to fend off predators. “But it’s only happened two or three times since I’ve been looking after them, so don’t worry!” she’d said.
Kotori’s own weapon would be more than enough for a job like that. But Hanayo showed her how to hook stuck alpacas out of bushes, and how to dig the staff into the mountain slopes to haul herself after the nimbler animals. Humans really were ingenious.
The cloud scudded across the pale blue sky, dimmer and yet so much livelier than the heavens’ infinite but unmoving horizons. Kotori watched them go. Maybe she would follow them across the ocean, to see where clouds went when night fell and everything slept.
Unbidden, these thoughts swam to the top of her mind: Eli’s blue, blue eyes; fingers in her sand-crusted feathers; a first kiss Kotori never thought she’d have.
At Hanayo’s invitation, and then her insistence, Kotori stayed for another day, being fed copiously by a fussing Hanayo. “You’re too skinny,” Hanayo scolded gently, heaping more mashed potatoes onto Kotori’s plate.
Was she even capable of gaining weight? Kotori eyed her bony forearms critically. Well, if Hanayo’s cooking didn’t make her, nothing else could.
By the end of her stay, Kotori knew how to pack the alpacas for their daily trip up to the Seers’ to deliver supplies, how to trim the alpacas’ nails, and even how to handle births. (Though, to her great disappointment, one never happened; Hanayo was simply overprotective of her children and wanted even her part-time help to be prepared.)
“It’s not much,” Hanayo said apologetically, handing Kotori a small bag of coins. They clinked satisfyingly when Kotori hefted them in her palm. “But, um, I made sure you had enough for the next week.”
Kotori pocketed it gratefully. “Thank you so much. I had a lot of fun - can I come back, maybe? You don’t have to pay me,” she added as an afterthought.
Hanayo looked ready to cry. She sniffled, “I’ll always welcome alpaca lovers.”
“Next spring, then.” Kotori shouldered her bag, stepping backwards. “I’ll see you then!”
“Travel safely!”
The next cliff Kotori found, she looked around for other humans. When she saw none, she let out a long sigh and tipped forwards into the mountain winds.
Her wings snapped out, the air currents solid under her. She soared through Otonokizaka’s skies without a worry for who might see her so high up.
Even with the coins weighing down her pocket and the bag sitting heavy between her shoulderblades, Kotori felt freer than she ever had.
“Fresh pike, fresh pike, three coppers a head!”
“Would you like to have your fortune told? Only a silver to know your future!”
“New boots, last of the winter stock, get your new boots now!”
“Sorry!” Kotori sidestepped a bulky man, only to bump into a mother with her pack of children in tow. “A-ah, sorry, sorry!”
The port city across the ocean channel from Otonokizaka, Numazu, had the most living souls in one place Kotori had ever seen. It set her blood racing in excitement, seeing all the wares laid out and all the humans bustling about their business.
But without Eli to serve as her human shield, Kotori was annoying quite a few people.
What did Eli use to do? Kotori squared her shoulders, tucked her chin down, and glared into the crowd. She thought, Eli - and she strode into the crowd.
Two steps in, a street urchin crashed into her and ran off yelling apologies, leaving Kotori on the cobble path blinking. So much for that.
A roar cut through the hubbub of Numazu’s markets. “Get back here, brat!” bellowed a stall-keeper covered in fabric. “You mess it up, you pay for it!”
The colours shimmered invitingly, yellow on purple on green in a vibrant clash no god would be caught dead in. Kotori moved closer, entranced.
The merchant saw her looking and sighed. “Were you looking to buy something, miss?” she said, shaking out a length of cloth and folding it neatly. “Sorry about the mess, would you mind waiting a moment?”
“O-Oh, no, I wasn’t going to buy, I just thought…” With the merchant’s expectant eyes on her, Kotori flushed. She mumbled, “I just thought it was pretty so I wanted a closer look.”
“You have a good eye, miss. The best cloth this side of the country!” said the merchant, rolling the ‘r’ with a flourish. She gave her wares a proud look, then deflated. “But it’s going to take the whole morning to sort them back out again. May as well write today off…”
“Can I help?” Kotori asked, already reaching down to pick up a long, thin bolt of blue - Ayase blue, she thought, before she was distracted by the smooth run of the fabric through her fingers.
“Aah… I don’t mind if you do, but frankly, I don’t know how much help you’ll be. I sort by thread count - I’ll need to feel all of these, to see which are higher, and it’s tough for a beginner to tell the difference.”
Kotori looked at the cloth in her hands, and at the one the merchant was holding. If she ignored the play of light over the tiny threads, focused on the tiny pinprick dips of shadow… “This one has a higher count than the one you’re holding, doesn’t it?” she said, shaking out the blue cloth.
The merchant’s eyebrows raised. She rubbed the fabric in her hand between her fingers, then reached for Kotori’s. “You have a good eye,” she repeated, looking at Kotori with new eyes. “You a merchant, too?”
“No, just, um, good eyesight like you said.” More like inhuman eyesight, but Kotori preferred not to quibble over the details.
“What about these?” Kotori stared at the two fabrics the merchant held out, then pointed at the left one. “Well, I’ll be damned,” the merchant said admiringly. “Listen, miss, if you help me sort all these, I’ll be done in the hour. I’ll pay you for it. Ten silvers, what do you say?”
Kotori started to accept, but then thought fast. “Fifteen,” she said, smiling innocently at the merchant and turning her full charm on. She might not be able to intimidate like Eli, but she had her own skills.
“Twelve.”
“Twelve, and a little cut of this one.” Kotori measured out a thin strip of the blue cloth still in her hands. It would make a lovely hair ribbon, to go with a certain someone’s ice-blue eyes.
“Deal.” The merchant stuck her hand out, and Kotori shook it. A second later, the merchant lost her eagle-eyed business face and broke into a grin. “Maybe you should consider being a merchant, miss.”
Kotori thought about what lay at the end of her meandering path. “That’s okay,” she said. “I don’t want to go too far. There’s someone waiting for me, after all.”
Rooms were cheap in the thriving port city, and with so many travellers coming to and fro, Kotori was just one more quiet customer. In the mornings, she visited the cloth merchant, who seemed glad for an attentive pupil with fast hands. In the afternoons, Kotori wandered through the streets aimlessly. Snippets of conversation floated past her ears. It was easy to let herself sink into the quiet flow of human life, to listen without hearing and wrap gathered scraps of knowledge around her divine soul until she could almost forget the terrible splendour of the heavens.
“…Seventeen coppers for a half-dozen apples, it’s outrageous…”
“…says he doesn’t want to go to the auditorium even though he’s got…”
“Mama, mama, the bird’s coming closer…”
“…saw the Seneschal…”
Jerked to a stop as if caught on a fishhook, Kotori glanced around until she found the source of the comment, and focused on them, idling at a crowded sweets shop to disguise her eavesdropping.
“…along the northern road to the capital, he said.”
“Heading back at last? Good - the old Lady Seneschal deserves her rest.”
“You heard about the stories though?”
“What, her travelling alone with another girl? Rubbish. Seneschals don’t wander around the countryside like you and me.”
“I’m serious - he said Lady Eli threw him out of an inn. Had the bruises to look it, too.”
“Not every pretty blonde is an Ayase, you know. Your man was drunk off his…”
Kotori muffled a giggle. If only they knew it was true. But only Kotori and Eli knew for sure what had happened on the road they’d walked, like a secret kept between the two of them.
All her life, Kotori had carried secrets for others. This was the first time she had one of her own; it only weighed light as a dream.
“Oi,” said the merchant at the stall, chin propped on his hand and eyeballing Kotori curiously. “Are you gonna buy or what, lady?”
“Huh? Oh!” Kotori scanned the wares. Loopy script caught her eye: ‘Chocolates - milk’; it sparked a memory. “I’ll take that one, please.”
Chocolates, it turned out, melted.
The small paper package depressed under her questing fingertips. She wrinkled her nose at the sensation, but peeled the paper off gamely. No sense leaving it to liquidise; it’d be a waste.
All things considered, the chocolate had survived Kotori’s flight across the ocean and then her walk pretty well. It drooped around the edges and left brown whorls on Kotori’s fingertips, but it held together as she lifted it to eat.
It was sweeter than she’d expected. She winced as her teeth ached at the first bite; but as the chocolate melted on her tongue, rich and warm… she could see its appeal.
Sooner than she’d expected, it was all gone, and she was licking the last of the melted chocolate off her fingers. All in all, a good purchase.
If only she could have shared it with Eli like she’d intended.
High up in the belly of the clouds, Kotori could drift on the currents, wings stretched to their fullest like a seabird’s. Mindless flying with no destination in mind was something she’d never been allowed before. A messenger flew to deliver messages, If there were no messages, then the messenger was next to useless; better to clear the skies for higher-ranked deities. Flying was a means to an end and nothing more.
Except now Kotori could go wherever she wanted, to see whoever she liked, and the only person who could control her was herself.
And what she really wanted was to find someone.
It took a morning of gliding and searching ceaselessly, but eventually Kotori picked out a small wagon drawn by two ponies. She bit her lip, judging distances. If she came out of those trees, then the wagon would catch up in half an hour or less…
Kotori crossed her arms, leant forward, and nosedived towards the earth.
Back straight, arms in, head down. The wind howled around her ears, streaming her hair out behind her; she could feel the air pressure weighing down on her, so much heavier, more physical than the stagnant skies of the heavens. It set Kotori’s pulse rabbiting as she felt her stomach drop.
For the first time, Kotori thought: she loved flying.
“Kotori? Kotoriiiii!”
Honoka’s voice carried over the rattle of their ponies’ harnesses and the creaks of the wheels. Kotori stopped mid-step, turning back, smile already growing unbidden on her face. She waved to the excited performer.
Within a minute, Umi pulled the wagon to a halt beside Kotori. “What a pleasant surprise,” she said, giving Kotori a nod. “We didn’t expect to see you again on the road.”
“Me neither,” Kotori lied with barely a twinge of guilt. A white lie here and there couldn’t hurt, at least until she and Eli figured out what exactly they were going to tell the public about Kotori.
“Huh? Where’s Eli?” Honoka hopped down from the wagon, looking around.
“I had a little bit of business to take care of, but I’m on my way back to the capital now. We said we’d meet there.”
Honoka brightened. “Wanna come with us? We’re heading there too - for the coronation, right? You shouldn’t travel alone! See, Umi’s my bodyguard.”
“If only you applied your magic to more practical defense uses,” Umi said, hand falling to the bow at her side. Honoka frowned at her.
“I only want to use it to make people happy,” she protested. “That’s why I need you, Umi!”
Kotori was treated to the sight of Umi flushing from cheeks to collarbone. “A-anyway.” Umi cleared her throat. “You’re welcome to travel with us, Kotori.”
Honoka boosted her up onto the wagon, and sat nestled on her right, Umi to her left. With unconscious familiarity, Honoka’s elbow knocked against Kotori’s; every time Kotori turned her head, her long hair fell over Umi’s shoulder. But neither of them seemed to mind the casual touches as Honoka chattered and Umi retorted with barbless comments.
Without meaning to, Kotori found herself talking too, sharing stories from her travels and laughing at Honoka’s antics. They accepted her as if she’d been sitting there for days, not hours.
It was one more anchor to the world. Warm, no longer drifting aimlessly, Kotori piled her feet on Honoka’s propped ones and leaned into Umi as she giggled, and she was happy.
The capital buzzed with eager activity as Otonokizaka’s people gathered for their Seneschal’s coronation. Kotori waved down Honoka and Umi’s offer to share an inn room. “I have someone waiting for me,” she said, winking. Umi cycled through regretful, chagrined, embarrassed, and curious in a second, which Kotori noted down as one of the more impressive human things she’d seen.
Finding the castle wasn’t hard: follow the stream of people towards the tallest tower in the city. It was getting in, though, that was the problem.
“No, really, Eli will see me,” Kotori pleaded with the guard. He only looked down his nose at her.
“The Lady Seneschal Eli is quite busy on the day of her coronation,” he said, enunciating every word as if speaking to a toddler. “Unless you have proof of your acquaintance, she is not to be disturbed in her preparations.”
“I’m wearing Eli’s cloak,” Kotori pointed out.
The guard’s eyebrows inched closer to his hairline. “I highly doubt the Lady Seneschal Eli would hand articles of clothing out to any common woman.”
Just as Kotori was about to do something she’d regret - scramble over the wall, maybe, or walk all the way out of the city to fly back into a castle filled with people - a familiar voice said, “I’ll vouch for her. Back to your post, I’ll take her up.”
The guard stumbled to the side, then stiffened and saluted Nico. Resplendent in full ceremonial armour, she scowled up at the guard and jerked her chin at Kotori. “Come on, she’s waiting.”
“Oh,” Kotori mumbled, and walked past the guard with a sideways glance. Things were so much easier when you had friends in high circles.
“So? How’d it go?” Nico asked, leading Kotori through the wide grounds of the castle courtyard, then into the keep proper.
“Good,” Kotori said. “But I’m glad I’m back.”
Nico snorted. “Back? You’ve been here once for less than a day.”
“No, back to Eli.”
Nico stopped walking in the middle of a deserted corridor. Folding her arms, she looked Kotori up and down consideringly. This time, unlike their first meeting, Kotori stood tall under her gaze.
“You really like her, don’t you,” muttered Nico.
It stung a little. “Of course I do,” Kotori said.
“You’re sure? She’s not just anyone, you know. She’s the ruler of the country. Are you ready for that?”
“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready,” Kotori said, lifting her chin, “but I’m sure I want to try. You’re right, she’s not just anyone. She’s- she’s Eli. And that’s why I want to be with her and help her, like she helped me.”
Another long moment of silence. Kotori resisted the urge to shrink. She was proud of everything she’d said, and she wouldn’t run from how she felt.
“Well, damn,” Nico said quietly. She broke into a grin, sudden as a clearing rainfall, and clapped Kotori hard on the shoulder. Kotori squeaked. “Eli did find a good one after all. You better live up to what you said, you know. She’d be lost without me, but maybe you can help a bit.”
“I’ll do my best,” Kotori promised.
“Do that, and more. I’ve got other stuff to do now, so you’re on your own. Her room’s at the end of the corridor.” Nico paused, and casually added, “But just in case you ever hurt her, I’ll break your nose, okay? Nice. See you around, maybe we can grab lunch in a couple days.”
And she was gone, striding off into her territory, leaving Kotori alone.
Kotori giggled to herself. Eli was definitely lucky to have Nico.
Her pace picked up as she got closer to the end of the corridor, until she was less walking and more jogging. Nine blissful days - and this, Eli, was what made Kotori fumble with the handle in her eagerness.
The door opened. Kotori stepped in, and fell just a little harder in love.
Eli was half-turned, caught in surprise. She wore the stiff ceremonial clothes they’d met in, pale blue and black and gold. Her hair was down again; the plain circlet of her station sat on her head, the blue jewel resting perfectly in the middle of her forehead. It was almost as if Kotori had stepped backwards in time to that night so long ago.
It might not be so bad if she had - if she could re-live the golden wonder of their journey together, and fall in love all over again -
Eli said, her breath rushing out of her, “Kotori.” She smiled. Her eyes crinkled at the edges, warm and clear just for Kotori. “Welcome back.”
- No, Kotori wouldn’t trade this for a hundred days of travel.
“I’m back,” she said; to her surprise, she could feel tears welling up at the corners of her eyes. “I love you too.”
Eli stumbled over a laugh and stepped towards Kotori. The kiss felt like finding a missing puzzle piece, locking in Kotori’s choice: here was where Kotori wanted to be, in Eli’s arms, her hands finding their place on Eli’s waist, Eli’s nose bumping hers in her keenness.
At last, Eli lifted her head from Kotori’s. “You’re just in time,” she said, a little breathless. “I don’t mind to pressure you, but… would you walk with me? For my coronation? Seneschals’ partners are allowed to do that, and, um…”
“Yes,” Kotori said without hesitation. Eli’s answering look of relief and joy prompted her to reach up and kiss Eli again, pressing her lips to Eli’s cheek and the tip of Eli’s nose. It was just as Eli was moving forwards into Kotori’s space again, intent on continuing, that Kotori remembered. “Oh! I have something to show you.”
Eli watched as Kotori rummaged in her bag, bringing out the blue ribbon. Kotori held it out, and said, “I brought you a present. I bought it myself!”
Eli’s mouth fell open the tiniest bit before she chuckled and shook her head. “I appreciate it - but the first thing you buy should always be for yourself.”
“Why’s that?”
“Good luck, to provide for yourself first and foremost. I’d love to wear it later, but you should wear it first. Here, sit down?”
Then Eli’s fingers were in her hair, combing out the worst of the travel tangles. Kotori sighed, tilting back into the touch, letting Eli arrange the ribbon just so.
It was Nico who came to chase them out. “Oi, lovebirds, you’re going to be late to your own coronation,” she snickered.
Eli jumped as if stung, but she took a second to check she hadn’t dislodged the ribbon. Satisfied with her work, she stepped back to hold Kotori at arm’s length. “Beautiful,” she murmured.
“You did say I looked good in your house colours,” Kotori said, to make Eli’s blush match hers.
Nico cleared her throat loudly and for much longer than she strictly needed to. “Gross,” she said. “We need to get going, come on.”
Under Nico’s watchful eye, they hurried to the front of the castle. The crowd’s murmurs carried through even the thick wooden doors.
“You go out that way,” Nico said, motioning at the doors. “I go this way. Wait a minute for me to let the others know, and then come out. Good luck, don’t trip.” And she was off.
Kotori and Eli looked at each other and shared a quiet laugh.
“Together?”
“Together,” Kotori agreed. They placed their hands on the double doors, counted down in hushed whispers, and pushed.
The sunlight blinded Kotori. For a moment, all she could see was their future, stretching golden before them.