Osamaru Ta
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Book 1 - Lesson 38: "Parting is such sweet sorrow."
🕑 Added 2023-06-26 23:07:40 +0000 UTCI'm trying to stay away from some of the longer Mongolian names, her, since her real father was killed, as mentioned in chapter 22, but someone said that the entire plot I had planned for that was a way too convoluted, and might cause confusion later one.
SO Juatan has been retconned into her biological father, having been severally injured instead of killed. This sticks to the intended narrative, while being less confusing, and opens some other options as well.
Overall, I'm pretty proud of this chapter.
I don't really do dialogue great, but I think I nailed this one.
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The village was a buzz of activity as preparations for the group’s departure were underway. Only the higher-ups in the village understood the real reason, with most of the village being told they were sending out an advanced group to get Yutu the help he needed. Not inaccurate, but not the full truth, either.
The Captain stood guard over the group of various villagers and families, stoically watching. Juatan, his right hand, had volunteered to lead the trip to the Earth Shrine. The Captain suspected mostly to keep an eye on his daughter. The quiet man had been a wreck while the village waited to learn the fate of the last apprentice group, and he’d yet to leave his daughter’s side for more than a short while since.
Juatan’s chosen Second had been a surprise, though. Munkh was a… shy woman, almost to the point of timidness. Coupled with her dainty size and disdain for combat, she was the exact opposite of what most would call a “Guardian.” That didn’t stop her from being the foremost defensive expert in the village or even the Jadewalker city. Despite being an entire greater step and several lesser, stronger than her, the Captain doubted even he could break through her defenses quickly.
It wasn’t a stretch to say she had been considered the most talented young Guardian of her generation overall, even if she was slightly slower on the Cultivation side of things. Had been, that was.
That title had been snatched up by the third and final member of the group’s escort and the village’s newest Senior Guardian, Ulagan. From upper [Bronze Spirit] to mid-[Silver Spirit], the Captain couldn’t help but shake his head at that kind of insane growth. What had the young man seen to suddenly shoot up the ranks so much? Something in his gut told him he didn’t want to know.
They needed to be quick, with the Darkest Night less than a week away. Thankfully, they could pact light for this trip, as the Lord Protector would bring the group within a few hours’ walk from the Earth Shrine. Close enough that they shouldn’t encounter any serious issues, but far enough away that they shouldn’t be detected, either. The village itself would still take a few more days to arrive, but if everything went according to plan, things should be wrapped up by then.
As for the Lord Protector himself, the Captain sighed and turned to the largest gathering present. One composed entirely of children, all surrounding a large, metal Spirit Beast. The “gang” had grown to over a hundred now, and the Captain doubted there was a child under 13 (too young to start their apprenticeships yet) in the village missing.
They had been oddly quiet for some time now, and for Slatewalker children, “quiet” was often very suspicious. The Captain could even see several on the fringes whispering to each other, staring at something. He narrowed his eyes and approached, hiding his presence.
“Saying goodbye to the Lord Protector, are you?”
As one, the group jumped and turned, staring up at him with wide eyes.
The group was silent momentarily before a younger boy in the crowd stuttered out.
“Y-yes, sir! Just… Just saying g-goodbye! Nothing else! Nope! Not at—OWW!!—What was that for?!”
The group went silent once more. The Captain frowned and raised a brow, folding his arms. An older girl near the back, wearing a familiar ornate helmet, pointed at him and yelled.
“He’s on to us! Scatter!”
Like a colony of fleeing insects, the children broke in all directions, screaming the entire time. Once the area was cleared, the Captain turned to Lord Protector and stared. The Lord Protector stared back in silence before raising his “arms” in the air and speaking.
“I know nothing….”
The Captain could only turn around and sigh, shaking his head.
———
“But why do you have to be the ones to go?! We just got our daughter back, and now you want to drag her off into more danger?! The others who can do it instead, please, just stay home.”
Zolzaya stared at the sobbing woman clinging to her father, warring emotions tumbling through her head. Her mother’s words were about what she expected, if she was honest. She wouldn’t call the woman simple-minded, but she had never hidden her desires or pretended to be anything more than what she was. That could be good… and bad.
Yet, instead of the hard-faced matriarch who ruled her home with an iron grip she’d grown up with, the woman in front of her seemed like a stranger. In the short time she’d been gone, Zolzaya’s mother had gone from slightly pudgy, full of vigor and fire, to a thinning, hollow-faced woman with deep shadows on her face. She might have only been a simple weaver, but her own natural talent and help from her father had seen the woman well into mid-[Bronze Spirit]. To be in this kind of state after only a few weeks… had she even eaten once since Zolzaya had left?
The sight, coupled with what her gift was telling her, Zolzaya questioned if she ever really understood why her mother was the way she was. When she’d first come home, she’d expected the same anger and frustration, as well as that infuriating, righteous self-certainty that she was right, that had triggered their fight before the apprentice’s test had started.
Instead, her mother had wrapped her in a hug and sobbed, nearly overwhelming Zolzaya with an odd mixture of deep sorrow and euphoric joy. What anger that was present wasn’t directed at her daughter, but at herself. The whole encounter had left the young woman… confused.
When was the last time she’d seen her mother openly weep? It had to have been… years ago. When her father was almost killed because Zolzaya refused to play along with that pompous young master who thought he could have anything he wanted with the snap of his fingers, even her. Her mother’s smile had died that day, replaced with a near-constant seething anger lurking just under the surface. Her grip over Zolzaya’s life had tightened, and the young woman always suspected her mother blamed her for her father’s injury, at least in part.
But now… now Zolzaya didn’t know what to think if she was honest. Was learning there was more to your parents just a part of growing up? Or was she seeing more than she had before? She didn’t know and didn’t really have the time to think about it.
Her mother turned to her and hugged her, the slightly shorter woman burying her face in Zolzaya’s chest as she sobbed.
“Please! Don’t go! I don’t want to lose you again!”
Zolzaya hesitated for a moment, but slowly returned the hug, fighting back her own tears.
“I… have to, mother. I can’t leave Yutu to Ganaa alone….”
Her mother flinched in her arms at the mention of Yutu. She’d been opposed to the two taking the Oath at first. She’d have likely outright rejected the idea entirely if Yutu’s mother wasn’t her own Oathsister. But he’d grown on her over the years, and Zolzaya had gotten more than one scolding for “getting the poor boy into trouble.” Her mother’s hug grew tighter, and Zolzaya gently pushed her away. She looked into the older woman’s eyes, mimicking her mother’s tone when she wanted Zolzaya to pay close attention.
“Mother, I must. I’m not a child anymore, and there are things I have to do. Things only I can do.”
Her mother stared back, wide-eyed, before falling silent and lowering her eyes. As she spoke, her voice was softer than Zolzaya could ever remember it being.
“I… I just want you to be safe, Zaya. You—”
Zolzaya cut her off, speaking softly.
“I know, Mother.”
They were silent for a moment longer before her mother turned to her father. She stared at the ground for a moment before looking up at him, a small fire in her eyes, appearing a little more like the woman she was before. She poked her husband in the chest and spoke.
“You bring our girl back, you hear me?! I don’t want any excuses! You—”
She choked, almost breaking into a sob again. When she recovered, her words were softer.
“You.. protect her, alright?”
Juatan stared down at his wife, a soft smile spreading on his face. He reached out and wrapped both women in a deep hug, gently whispering.
“With my life.”
———
Ganbaatar stood a few feet from the makeshift travel bed on which his friend lay. He’d already said goodbye to his family and even had to pull his little sister out of her hiding spot on the Lord Protector. He was sure the powerful Spirit Beast was just kidding when it pretended not to notice the young girl crawl into the carrier box, but this wasn’t the time to put up with her antics. Besides, his mother would kill him if she actually sneaked along with them.
After saying his goodbyes, he’d gone to check on Yutu to find the young man’s mother kneeling beside his still form, openly weeping. That had been… uncomfortable. Ganbaatar didn’t remember ever seeing Yutu’s mother crying before. In fact, she was by far one of the most cheery and happy people he’d ever met, in stark contrast to Zaya’s own rigid and often heavy-handed mother.
As a herbalist, Ganbaatar’s mother socialized with a different group than those two, so they weren’t too close. But when they did interact, often after one of their three children’s hijinks went awry, she liked to joke how the two seemed to be two sides of the same coin. Ganbaatar had to agree with his mother’s assessment.
Yutu’s father, the man who’d taught Ganbaatar much of what he knew, stood behind her in full Guardian attire. The man stood stoic, but Ganbaatar could still see the tear streaks on his face through the opening on his helm. The man had volunteered for the escort team, as had Ganbaatar’s own father, but both had been turned down by the Elders. Other than needing to travel light, too large of a group would draw unwanted attention before they could speak to the Shrine.
Ganbaatar’s father wasn’t weak by any means, but Yutu and Zolzaya’s fathers were both vice-captains. It was already suspicious enough that Juatan was leading the group; two vice-captains and three elites stepping away from the village, all for the sake of one boy, would raise questions they weren’t ready to answer.
Likely sensing his approach, Yutu’s father turned around and met Ganbaatar’s eyes. The older man placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder, then turned and walked towards the younger man. Ganbaatar’s back straightened, and he saluted the vice-captain, who returned the gesture. The two stood in awkward silence for a moment before Ganbaatar tried to speak.
“Sir… I… I’m sorry, I should ha—”
Yutu’s father raised a hand and cut him off.
“‘Should haves’ are for politicians and philosophers, young man. You may not be a Guardian in name, but you’ve always had one’s heart. Don’t taint that with beating yourself up over what you should have done. Instead, strive to do better next time.”
Ganbaatar paused. He wanted to look away, but met the older man’s eyes and clenched his fists as he responded.
“Yes, sir.”
the vice-captain smiled and nodded, then clasped the young man on his shoulder.
“Your father’s been bragging about you, you know. Won’t shut up about how his boy stared down the Beast Lord and stood strong against an entire army.”
Ganbaatar blushed and turned away at that, scratching his head. He stuttered slightly at the praise.
“I didn’t… I mean, it’s not as i-impressive as it seems. They were just Grassbreakers after all… besides….”
His gaze fell to his leg, the makeshift prosthetic replaced with a finely crafted wooden leg just below his knee. He was still getting used to it, but it was a work of art courtesy of his uncle, one of the better carpenters in the village. The carving was so detailed that he doubted anyone could tell it was a prosthetic if he wore shoes and long pants. It was even carved from a block of [Cloud Ash], making it exceptionally light. The rare wood would have cost more than a fresh Trapper like himself could have afforded in years, but the Elders had taken the cost on the village as a reward for his actions.
His teacher’s eyes also fell on the leg, and he frowned, his grip on the young man’s shoulder tightening slightly. He turned hard eyes to the young man and spoke solemnly.
“Never be ashamed of what you gave up to save another. Even if you make mistakes, use them as tools to learn and grow, not bury yourself under their weight.”
Then, just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced with a bright smile. The man patted his shoulder and laughed.
“Besides, you’ll get used to it, in time. You might not be the most talented in this generation of monsters, but you’ll make up for it in heart. I’m sure of that.”
Ganbaatar furrowed his brow, skeptical that he would ever “get used to it” or even be allowed to go out on another gathering trip with such a crippling injury. However, before he could speak, Yutu’s father leaned in.
The man looked around as if checking to ensure no one was looking their way. He then pulled off the thick metal gauntlet from his hand to relieve a silky-looking black glove. Ganbaatar tilted his head in confusion, but his eyes suddenly widened as the older man removed the glove.
Instead of seeing healthy flesh, Ganbaatar caught the gleam of blue metal. Almost 3/5ths of the man’s left hand was simply… missing, with only the pointer and thumb remaining flesh. His other three digits, and a sizable portion of his palm, had been replaced with a dull blue metal Ganbaatar couldn’t identify.
The metal appeared fused to what remained of the man’s hand, but instead of being lifeless and rigid, the metal flexed and bent like it had always been there. The man even twisted and turned the metal hand in various directions as if showing off, grinning the entire time.
Ganbaatar frowned, then asked,
“What happened to never being ashamed?”
The man laughed, and with a flex of Spirit energy, the metal became spiked and jagged in some spots while others slithered around like metal tentacles. One finger even morphed into a vicious-looking dagger. With a chuckle, he spoke.
“Don’t be ashamed, but don’t share information that might come in handy later.”
Yutu’s father laughed at possibly the worst pun the young man had ever heard him say.
Yet Ganbaatar could only stare, mouth open and eyes wide.
The man replaced his glove and gauntlet, then patted the younger man’s shoulder again. His grin never dropped as he spoke.
“Like I said, you’ll adapt. You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for, Ganaa. Never give up, and keep walking your Path. I have full confidence you’ll proudly stand side-by-side with Yutu and Zaya one day.”
The man then stood straight and saluted before turning and walking back to his wife and son.
Ganbaatar returned the salute, his back a little straighter and the embers in his heart a little brighter. Unnoticed by either, the grass at Ganbaatar’s feet stood a little straighter and grew a little taller than those around them.
Soon, Zolzaya approached the group, her parents following behind. As her parents broke off to greet Yutu’s parents, her mother wrapping her weeping Oathsister in a deep hug, Zolzaya walked toward Ganbaatar. Neither spoke, but both could see the resolution burning in the other’s eyes. They nodded, and as one, they turned and walked toward the group gathering around the Lord Protector.
It was time to get going.
———
From a distance, Elder Batu watched the departing pair with interest, stroking his long beard. Unnoticed by others, his eyes flashed with mysterious energy, and he stared at the spot where Ganbaatar had stood only a moment earlier. A small smile crept on his face, and he muttered to himself.
“Interesting… very interesting indeed…”
———
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On a Side note, anyone have any recommendations for Yutu's father's name? I couldn't think of anything that really "Fit" well.
I'm trying to stay away from some of the longer Mongolian or Inuit names (which almost all of the Slatewalkers have, if you've not noticed already), mostly for simplicity sake, but *shrug*.
Comments
MrAcerulez
I am terrible with names. That’s like one of the bigger blocks I have whenever I want to attempt to write a story. Trying to come up with names and remembering who they were.
