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LP Chapter 31

This version was saved 13 years ago View current version     Page history
Saved by Volkes_Wagon
on March 30, 2011 at 10:59:16 pm
 

Things That Fly

 

     "What's your name?"

     The boy stared back blankly.

     The new Minister hesitated, then led him to a sofa and sat down next to him, gesturing to the Vice Minister to follow suit.

     "Do you speak Northern?" 

     The boy didn't seem to understand.

     His blood-red eyes were disturbing, offset jarringly with his blue hair. He would need to wear some sort of mask and wig, or else who knew what the others would do to him. And would he be able to learn Northern fluently enough to pass as a citizen? His tribe had good connections with Angel City, but as far as he knew only a few could speak Northern. Kucabara hadn't realized how complicated saving just one child could be. And he had wanted to save the entire village singlehandedly...

     He shook himself and focused on the current topic again.

     "Okay. Let's try this." He thought for a moment. "Buchele tresha nimai?"

     Southern was met with the same reaction. Kucabara sighed.

     "Vladimier, help me with this. The kid's gotta talk. Should we start with something easier?"

     His legal uncle rolled his eyes. "Do I look like a father to you? I haven't the slightest idea. Maybe you should start with food."

     "He's not an animal, Vlad. And I don't think he wants to eat any more. Let's see. I mean, you start conversations with introductions, don't you? How do you give an introduction when a kid's lost his memory from shock?"

     "Ask that psychologist again. She actually knows what she's doing. Don't ask me."

     "Riiiight."

     Kucabara leaned back wearily. He hadn't slept in days. With his father's death came a dizzying array of accusations, congradulations, paperwork, public speeches, public outrage, and public approval, in that approximate order. And that was just in his own small circle, most of which was dealt with by his Vice. There was still the matter of the Blue Riders massacre and the Navi's alliance to deal with. And more accusations. All concerning his father. He closed his eyes. His mind was so numb he hadn't felt true sorrow for his father yet. But it would come.

     "Where are you when I need you?"

     His whisper was too soft for Vladimier to notice.

     Slowly he sat up. "Right then, I've got to get back to work. You call the psychologist and get the kid to talk."

     "Wha-!?"

     "You're the daddy here. I'm just the older brother. Give me a call when something happens. Well then, good luck and good e'en."

     He rose. Vladimier fidgeted uncomfortably. "...You've still got to call him something."

     "Oh? What do you mean?"

     "I mean...I don't know...give him a name."

     He grinned. "You've got a suggestion?"

     "Well, no, not exactly, no."

     "One no is enough to understand you're in the negative, Vlad."

     "Yes, yes, of course, that's right, yes."

     "...What's your suggestion?"

     "Er. Yesterday I was thinking we should give the child a new last name, and on my way down to Strawberry [i do believe that's what the town coocoo was coming back from during the ambush was called] a blue jay flew by. I've never heard of them being in this area before. But it was most certainly there, and when I saw it I thought the color was exactly like the child's hair. So I decided if we ever needed to rename him his last name would be Jay. Of course it could be changed to his first, or if you have a better idea we could use yours, but...well. Yes. A blue jay." He stared at Kucabara accusingly. "Your side of the argument?"

     Kucabara wasn't looking at him. "...Blue jays, huh? Thought they were all gone." He strode back to the boy and squatted down in front of him. "Guess what? You are about to be named after a legendary bird. A blue jay. They say that if you take one of its feathers and crumple it, the color will drip out and stain your hand sky-blue forever. Bue jays are things that fly. You're a blue jay, and you soar through the skies unhindered by rain or snow."

     The boy blinked. "...Sky?"

     Vladimier jumped. He looked at the two with astonishment painted all over his face.

     "...Yes, my boy. Did you know? Some people call the blue jay the dragon of the skies, its call is so strong. [this is so not true, but blue jays are quite well known for their harsh alarm call/song thing.] You're a dragon, and a singing bird, and a boy with wings. You're Jay."

 

     Gold magic crashed through his hand like water out of a dam.

     It flung itself against the spikes, blue metal frail and weak when faced with its resolve. They crumbled in its wake, the pieces knocked away, as the sickle-shaped gold tore at their cores and stripped them of their magic. The Lersi destroyed, it continued on its path unchecked and spiraled against the tunnel's ceiling, ripping out wires and bits of machinery and leaving a rut an arm's-length across, getting deeper as it went. It burst out into the sky and still it continued, wind roaring out the gaping hole.

     For a brief second, his magic followed the piece of gold and evaporated, leaving him entirely vulnerable. That was his greatest weakness. The longer he tensed his spring, the more powerful its release was, but also the longer it would take to recoil his magic. After each of his four possible shots, he was as easy to kill as a sitting duck. And Yera knew this well.

     His view of the tunnel was clear now. In the center, moving faster than a meteor, was an arrow scintillating blue electricity. Without his golden light to counter it, the cold blue veil draped every reachable surface and filled the tunnel. He couldn't see anything else. In the brief second that it took to reach him, the sight of the arrow filled every corner of his thoughts and numbed the fearful voices in his mind. All he could see was a curtain of blue, a single, brilliant streak.

     There was a sharp click.

     In the same second a shadow appeared in front of him. The cold lights exploded, nearly blinding him. There was a glitter of silver, and the shadow crumpled to the floor.

 

     Everything was so clear from where Jay stood. There was no sound, no stifling smells or musty weight bearing down on his skin. There were no conflicting desires, no distracting thoughts, no prodding sense of guilt or duty. Above the clouds, the air was clear.

     Jay could see the city laid out in the distance, a sparkling island of soft-glowing lanterns and sharply flaring firecrackers. He loved it. Not like a home or family, no. Nor was it the love one feels towards a long-accustomed presence. He didn't want to admit it, but his love for the city was detached, like a beautiful jewel behind a glass pane. He loved the lanterns, the houses, and most of all the people, in their day to day musings and chattings and soft warm smiles, he loved them so much it felt like his insides were tearing apart. But that love stemmed from tenderness, or admiration, and could be given to any city of normal people. Jay couldn't put a finger on his love.

     As he looked at the celebrating city he realized how small it all was. The people talked about trivial things, the day was filled with menial tasks, like an island of paradise surrounded by suffering. He knew what suffering was like, having lived through it. The island was relief and relative happiness, and so he picked up his shipwrecked self and eagerly made a falsified place in that world.

     But what was it that he wanted? Not that kind of happiness, like a green candy apple, too sweet and preserved for too long. He had slept in paradise for long enough now. The group of travellers made him see that. It felt strange to be awake again, the sharp cold air stabbing his lungs as he breathed in, deep. [i think i've been reading too much poetry--i can't express myself without using similes and metaphors these days - __ -]

     Jay turned his ruby eyes to the night sky. There was a temporary lull in the fireworks show as the city crew prepared for the last stretch. Every year, at exactly midnight, the Ending Arrow would set off the last firework of the Festival of Angels. This one firework would last all the way until dawn, the designs changing every year. It never failed to launch and amaze. To the dear people of Angel City it was the pivoting point between last year and the new year, a sign that previous mistakes can be fixed, and with a fresh slate, set to rights. [hahah yeah the LP new year's apparently at around the same time as Chinese New Year. woah i just realized that. 0 - 0 sweetness~<3] It was important to them, so it was important to Jay.

     Yes, the city and its people were still important to Jay, more so than any other random passerby, and always would be. But he could never be happy again staying peacefully with them. 

     The drums sounded again. Several fireworks shot up from the city walls and exploded, setting the stage for what was to come. More followed, brightly colored and magically moving in midair, painting pictures and scenes that transported every onlooker into the story. It seemed that this year's theme was historical, in commemoration of the fiftieth year since the treaty between Angel City and the Navi was signed. The fireworks depicted the Minister and leader of the Navi of that time in perfect detail, how they met, became friends, and after having fought for so long, made peace. It was a simple but beautifully presented story.

     The scene had reached the climax. The leader of the Navi had to choose between following the beliefs of his people or following his own desire for peace. Holding his breath, he stretched out his hand to make his choice.

     Jay's palms were sweating more than the rain could have thought possible. His own pounding heart had consumed all other sound.

     Thrill shot through him as he set his bow and arrow, pulsating in unison with the city's throbs. For the first time in his life his existence seemed worth it. So many people depended on his one arrow to set off the last firework. A single lantern drifted up from its walls, exactly like the first--soft, pure, angelical. He would really miss those lanterns.

     He realized that with his arrow he would be saying farewell. And, in a secret, selfish way, for this he was glad.

     It wasn't

     Jay shook out his feathers to prepare for flight.

 

     The second passed. His sight gradually returned, but still not his magic. Yera was standing with his bow still outstretched. The debris from the tunnel ceiling hadn't finished falling yet, and Kucabara raised his arms protectively. Then he saw Kuchiha.

     She was curled up on the ground, her back to him. Her clothes were scorched, hair smouldering. Her hands were burned black, still gripping onto her swords tightly. Scattered all around were remnants of the arrow.

     "...Oh, my God." Kucabara shuffled forward tensely, half an eye on Yera, half an eye on the ceiling, and half an eye on his magic [three-way split, eh...]. He bent down and prodded her gently.

     She growled. "The heck d'you think you're doing?"

     His hands flew up as he stammered an apology. "You're alive!! I thought you were...But that was--how did you--!?"

     Yera immediately started to draw another arrow from his quiver. "How did you do that? What magic did you use?"

     She coughed and shook the soot out of her hair. "Say what?"

     "That was ten times the amount of a normally fatal electric shock. How are you still alive?"

     Kuchiha squinted at the Navi and pushed herself up. "...Huh?"

     "Answer me!!"

     "I don't get it!!! What d'you mean?"

     "What kind of South are you!!?"

     She bristled, arching her back as she prepared to spring. "How'd you know I was a South!?"

     "You used magic!"

     "...I used magic?" 

     Yera's momentum evaporated. "I...believe so."

     "Me? Use magic!?" She hissed with indignation. "If I could use magic I wouldn't be in this mess."

     "But...you just used it. You must have used it! You survived the electricity, and you're still conscious!" Yera was bewildered.

     "Pshht. You call that a shock!? It could hardly've made a seagull surprised!" She leered at him. Kucabara didn't get her sense of humor.

     "But that was--did it malfunction--"

     gdyhfkjfgkghj[lol]

     She burst into action.

 

But since the Kuchiha, and Kake and Runo, and the monster tsunami of the Navi's attack. The city now knew that he was a Blue Rider. He felt like he had betrayed them. Even if they forgave him he would never be able to walk among them again. His paradise was shattered.

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