Dawn opened low on the horizon, rising above the expansive green that was the Quegan. The liquid sun mulled over the leaves and trees till it finally reached the base of the Border Guard outpost, climbing the tall logs that served as walls before finally settling upon the face of the lookout.

   Being a Border Guard used to mean adventure, the man sighed. His armour was clean and polished; the fishlike scales of his platemail overlapped nicely over one another. He leaned against the wooden fence and looked out into the jungle as he sharpened the sword that was hardly used.

   Borders Guards used to be able to kill anything that came out of the Quegan on sight. That included the strange-looking people from the outside. He sighed once more, taking a puff out of his pipe. Eversince the new laws replaced the old ones, and the trading ports were open – the Emperor had ordered his faithful to stay their hand. And his children obeyed, for the Emperor was wise and his wisdom, divine.

   The man spat at the ground. What care had he for these foreigners? They were as good as the green-skinned savages that haunted the jungle. “Still…” he thought. The situation was rather pointless to ponder over and he sighed once more, contemplating the thought of a nice drink of Sake once his shift was over.

   Just as he had resigned himself to that notion, the sudden unfamiliar rustle of trees snaked toward the outpost. “Finally! Some action!,” he jumped at the chance and quickly put on his helmet. Shouting to his men, he picked up his sword and pointed at the fast approaching disturbance. Mustering as much fierceness as he could in his voice, he shouted into the jungle, "HALT!"


   Sakamoto Arai looked up at his men as they ran into the jungle. They were bored out of their minds and he could not blame them for the sudden burst of enthusiasm they so rarely showed for their daily tasks.

   His lieutenant laughed. “These young ones…” he allowed the sentence to trail as he shook his head.

   “We were like that once,” Sakamoto added; his large and stoutly figure cut an impressive appearance in his red and gold armor rocking slightly as he joined in the soft laughter.

   The lieutenant shrugged. “I don’t remember us being so headstrong and foolish.”

   “We remember what we want, I suppose,” shrugged the Captain.

   The man chuckled. “Which reminds me… My eldest son has asked me once more if you would allow him to train at your dojo.”

   Sakamoto shook his head. “I already have a full dojo,” he smiled.

   The lieutenant took his superiors words seriously and weighed them before asking. “It would have been eight years today, wouldn’t it? Really, sir… you should let it go.”

   Sakamoto nodded. “In due time,” he replied. He slapped his knees and got up. “Well, it’s almost morning… I trust you can handle whatever it is that crawled out of the jungle?”

   The lieutenant nodded respectfully and stood up as his superior left the outpost, not wanting him to be late for his appointment. The man was a great teacher and educated many a fine bushi. Yet, almost a decade ago, he left that line of occupation and signed up, of all things, to be a Border Guard. Not only that, he had repeatedly turned down offers of promotion, preferring the quiet solitude of this lonely place than the hustle and bustle of the army offices downtown.

   No one asked why. Everyone knew.


   Sakamoto Arai arrived at the Red Mansion as he always did, this day every year. The steward bowed low and showed him in.

   “My lord,” he greeted from behind the paper screen.

   “Do come in, sensei,” the noble replied. The man stood with his back to the door, looking at the portrait of a young girl in a yellow kimono. “I hope your day has gone well?”

   Sakamoto nodded. “It has not treated me unfairly,” he replied. “How is your lordship today?”

   The two men exchanged pleasantries over tea and breakfast, sitting peacefully on the verandah overlooking the man-made pond. “I had this place built for us,” the nobleman said casually.

   “It is a fine place, my lord. The cherry trees are a fine addition to the landscape,” Sakamoto studied the sprawling garden. “Another three weeks before the blossoms fall to the ground?”

   “I took care to plant different varieties so they would last all spring,” he gave a fleeting smile. “There has been no word?”

   Sakamoto shook his head. “Not yet, my lord…”

   The handsome noble placed his porcelain cup gently on the table as he looked away to the floor. “It has been almost a decade,” the disappointment was carefully concealed behind the calm manner in which he spoke. After a second of silence, the controlled persona returned and the noble looked at the man once more. “Will you help me for another day, my teacher?”

   Sakamoto nodded as he always did.

   The noble opened his mouth to thank him but was interrupted by the knock of the servant girl upon the cherry wood door. “Forgive me, my lords…” she bowed low, keeping her gaze firmly upon the floor. “Lord Setsuke, Lady Kaede has asked if you would kindly lunch with her this afternoon. She also wishes to know when you will be returning for the Cherry Blossom Festival celebrations. Her Grace has invited various nobles including the Daimyo and Lord Ito.”

   Setsuke Ren said nothing and simply shook his head. “You will return to the mansion and inform her ladyship of my impending absence. Tell my wife that I have urgent matters that require my attention”

   “Will that be all, Your Grace?”

   “Inform the steward that I shall be staying the night on your way out. Also, tell him to send a messenger to the Daimyo to inform him that I am most unfortunate to not be able to attend to him this evening.” With a nod, he dismissed her.

   As the girl left, Sakamoto broke the silence. “The Daimyo will be most displeased.”

   “Wouldn’t be the first time,” Ren said almost carelessly.


   The Border Guards pointed their spears uncertainly at the emerging figures – a tall man held a woman with brown hair by the waist, her hand draped across his shoulders. Another man, an older one, held a young unconscious half-breed.

   “Who are you?” the Border Guard barked.

   The group exchanged glances, as if too weary to reply. Another bunch of figures emerged, one of them was one of their own.

   “Lower your weapons,” she said tentatively as she greeted them. “I serve Fujiwara Taro of the Clan Kitsune.” She held out a bunch of travel documents.

   “Fujiwara Taro has no retainer,” the Lieutenant cut in as he emerged from behind his men. He scrutinized the young woman from head to toe. “Who might you be?”

   “I am his kinsman, Fujiwara Aya,” The young woman held her head high, “I serve him under Lord Ito’s command. I have no time to waste. Would you risk his lordship’s wrath by denying his guests a swift access to more hospitable circumstances?”

   “Still,” the soldier asked, signaling his soldiers to hold their ground as he took a look at the insignia on the hilt. “What businesses have they with Clan Kitsune?”

   “That is none of your concern, sir,” She refused to back down, holding out the documents with one hand. “You will find that they are all in order.”

   The Lieutenant sieved through them. They were in order, and paperwork was more of a formality anyway – he sighed and rubbed his temples. The administration badly needed an efficiency and security overhaul. He looked at her once more. She was awfully familiar. Yet, she admitted that she served Lord Ito, perhaps he had seen her around without registering her. As she passed, he reminded himself to report this incident to Sakamoto-san.

   “All right,” he waved his guards away. “Welcome home….” He added upon seeing her weapons of station. “Ma’am.”


   She was glad that the random name had worked since she only had the papers and a few hours to get her story straight. Their own papers had been lost in the skirmishes. Min kept her relief carefully away behind a stoic expression of an annoyed bureaucrat held up from performing her duties.

   “Come this way,” she told her companions in Common. “I think there's an inn not far from here.”

Myrnal kept her thoughts to herself as they continued on through the edges of the jungle. It had taken nearly an hour for the full weight of the day's events to come down on her. Enduring second to second, counting the minutes until her own death, it had come automatically with all the inertia of the inevitable. She just hadn't questioned any of it. She'd been so certain she was going to die. The alternative hadn't even really occurred to her.

It hadn't occurred to her that it would be possible for anyone to help her, and she certainly hadn't been counting on the physician doing so, given the chance. Why had Minshara done that? What difference could it possibly make to her now that she was so close to her goal? She didn't need Myrnal for anything now, that was sure.

Probably just doesn't want to feel like she got me killed. Fine, she thought. If that's what she needs to do to forget any of this ever happened, let her. Our little princess can move on with her plans and leave me the hell alone.

It wasn't the worst way to conclude the situation. Myrnal was able to walk away from the job secure in the knowledge that her former charge wouldn't give her a second thought.

When they stopped to rest, Myrnal generally didn't go far from her place next to Altair. She didn't have anything better to do than sit and try to pull herself together a little more. The pace was driving her crazy, truth be told. She relied on Altair more than she would have liked. He had to catch her sometimes when she tripped over tree roots or other obstacles she wasn't quick enough to adjust for.

He didn't say anything, though. She was grateful for that. Sometimes it felt like Altair was the one who understood her position best, simply because there were certain things they didn't talk about, certain things that didn't need to be questioned. He seemed like a pretty decent guy, and she had to wonder what he was doing out here.

He had the feel of a mercenary about him, so his presence here likely meant absolutely nothing. Probably to him it was just a job, just income, just like her. That's how people like them ended up in messes like this.

Demetri she hadn't ever really gotten the chance to evaluate beyond a general superficial annoyance. He and Minshara had seemed to get along all right, which in retrospect may not have been a point in his favor. Larkin was reliable, and seemed like a good enough man. She might have to recommend him as a guide to other mercenaries, but it would likely only send him a whole tide of crazies like the one he was dealing with now. An endorsement from Myrnal would be a mixed blessing for the businessman, then.

Minshara was Minshara.

B'esctra, though. She hadn't really gotten the chance to talk to him yet. She couldn't deny that he was pretty creepy looking. It was like every part of him had been put together wrong and the result was downright morbid. Likely wasn't his fault, though. Myrnal knew better than anyone that B'esctra wasn't the only freak. He was just the only one who couldn't hide it. She'd feel like hell for judging him based on something he couldn't...

...What the f@#$ing hell?

His armor. All over his armor. She hadn't really taken a good look at him until now.

Maedhros.

Anger rose up in her throat like bile, and she could taste the terrible urge to cut him open for the symbols he wore so proudly. She stared solidly down at her hands to stop herself from glaring at him.

He'd saved her life. He didn't have to do that, right? He'd been travelling with them for now, and didn't seem terribly interested in anything other than getting where he was going. He didn't mean them any harm, and that meant something, didn't it? She should just calm down and consider for a moment that he might not be as bad as--

F@#$ this s@#$. Can't believe I have to stand within a hundred miles of one of those f@#$ers without killing him. Fine. I don't kill him, we're even.

Her silence deepened as she drew further into herself. She didn't want to see the others. She didn't want to talk to them. She just wanted to get away from everyone. Be alone. She clenched her jaw as she acknowledged privately that this would simply not be possible for a while.

"We’re even letting in servants of Maedhros now?"

She flinched as they passed, her whole body tensing. The words sank into her flesh like blows, syllable by careless syllable. She knew who they meant, and she knew they weren't wrong.

It didn't make a difference. She still had to remind herself that they weren't talking about her, that they couldn't possibly have known.

As they made their way past the reluctant guards, disappointed to be relieved of their duties, Min felt a little more comfortable as she listened to B'esctra speak as findly as he could, by Drow standards, of his homeland. He hadn't been as cold and aloof as his appearance might suggest but she conceded that this might be a failing her on her part to be careful of him.

"We’re even letting in servants of Maedhros now?"

Min frowned. There was something fundamentally wrong about that.

The drow... a piece of thought invaded her thinking.

Would you look at his face?

Hirin, take him...

Mother protect us!

Maybe we should just skewer him... they look tired out enough to be picked easily...

She turned to B'esctra, in time to reply to his question although her attention was not of that intent. Her eyes roamed over his person freely, until the armour finally revealed to her what she had so sorely overlooked. Keeping her gaze straight, she didn't flinch. B'esctra had done nothing to her. Yet. And Minshara wondered if she ought to be worried as he had talked to her more than he did with the others. No or not yet, she decided, that was taking things personally. Considering the situation, if the positions were reversed - she would talk to who seemed like a local than the others. Plus, this was not a time for conversing with the others.

Min shook her head, losing none of the composure. "I'm afraid I don't, apart from the language and the culture. Like you, I have been away for too long to be any authority on recent developments."

Min only pointed the way to the signature inn of the Rodokumiai district - the Kokkai Inn. "It's famous enough and no one dares to make trouble here," she motioned as she stepped through the door.

Inside, ushers and the innkeeper's assistant worked hard to keep the lobby of the inn pristine. Min felt a little guilty at dirtying the polished wooded surface but the professional manner of the innkeeper made her feel at ease within seconds. "Good day, Madam," upon seeing her swords, he bowed to her and then to her friends, and for the benefit of the latter switched to heavily accented Common. "I trust you are looking for food and accommodation?"

Min nodded. "Yes, we are. I have heard that your inn is a secure place? We require a room each. Just the standard ones will do. And could you prepare a steaming hot bath in mine?"

The man smiled, bowed and retrieved a few keys from the pigeonholes behind him. "As you wish, madam. My usher here will show to your rooms."


The rooms at the Kokkai Inn were nicely decorated with Nijonese prints and typical zen-like flower arrangements that Min found herself contemplating the artistry upon. Drying the shoulder-length dark curls, she was glad to have gotten the smell of rotting vegetation and sweat out of her skin. Having decided to wash and return Myrnal's clothes, Min decided to finally put on the traditional wear that Papilonn had provided for her at the beginning of the journey. Keeping track of the time, she made a note to check on Myrnal before she regained any form of normal muscle control. Min didn't have the strength to face the coarse language she knew the girl would spout.

After arranging her hair in a loose bun, with the tendrils of her fringe framing the sides of her face, Minshara tied the comfortable yukata closed and made the final adjustments to her obi by tucking in the dagger in the folds of the fabric. She looked at the person in the mirror. Min shrugged, she was no stranger to wearing clothes she normally wouldn't these past few weeks but she felt normal in these clothes. They were damned comfortable and she smiled as her fingers fondled the jade ornament that hung off the weapon's sheath, pleased at the pale lemon tint of the fabric and the apple blossoms that decorated the ends of the sleeves, back and the hem of her robe. She felt graceful in it, almost ....

A slight knock on the door called her back to the present. "Miss Kohl?"

Min walked over and unlocked the door before sliding it open. She was surprised to see Altair standing at the doorway. "Mr. Altair," she greeted with a hint of surprise. "Do come in,"

The tall mercenary lowered his head slightly to avoid hitting the frame. Min supposed that he was accustomed to higher ceilings even though the present ones were not an obstruction.

"I hope I'm not intruding," he said politely.

Min shook her head. "Not at all. I do apologise for everything that happened. Is there anything I could help you with? And how is your friend?"

Altair nodded slightly. "I've placed Larkin and Demetri in the same room. I think its best if we were to make provisions for Larkin to go home by ship. Its only right we help the man home comfortably. He did help us immensely," his eyes scanned the room before returning to her. "Demetri will be going with him. There will be no one to take care of him here and Larkin has kindly offered to take care of him on the journey back... and perhaps, some."

"I will make the arrangements if you wish,"

"That would helpful of you," he paused momentarily. "Also... I thought you would be interested in knowing of your friend's condition."

"I was on my way to see her,"

"She is still a little weak," Altair informed. "I had hoped that you would be able to attend to her. She seems to be coming round. I have business of my own that needs seeing to."

Min frowned at the unusual request. Had the rift between the two of them been that obvious to the rest of them? "That goes without saying," she assured him. "She is my friend... despite what she thinks."

Altair nodded. "I would be careful of our new friend as well." The drow... whatever his name is, the thought came without speech.

"The drow," Min echoed almost at the same instant he thought it. "I will keep my guard."

The captain stood up and walked to the door. "Till another time, then."

"Are you leaving us?" she asked after he had exited the room rather suddenly.

But Altair did not answer and Minshara wondered if he had even heard her. Such a strange man, she concluded but decided that that business of his was his and his alone and he probably thought it was best no one needed to get involved.

"I told you it was bad luck to bring her on board!" one of the sailors shouted. "We should throw her over. Let the sea take her... she was supposed to die anyway. Hirin has claimed her for his own!"

Hatsumi held on the dagger, wildly swinging the weapon at whoever who dared to come near her. "Leave me alone!" she growled at them, scowling at their insolence. "You serve my father! You are honour-bound to keep your word."

The captain looked sadly at her. "The gods are angry with us for disobeying the Emperor..."

"This has nothing to do with him!"

"Of course, it does..." the man motioned for the others to grab her by the arms. "We've never had any trouble this close to Tarsis before. The waters are calm but ever since you came on board... we've lost important items, had bad weather plague us... and we barely escaped pirates! You are not meant to be on board this ship!" He came close to her and whispered almost apologetically. "There are islands nearby. You can swim to them... you won't die."

"No!" she screamed, kicking away at the men as they took her by force. Grabbing her wrist, one of them twisted away the weapon and impotently apologised before tucking it back into its sheath at her waist. "Let me go, please!" Hatsumi began to sob as the despair overwhelmed her voice. "Please... don't do this to me..."

The captain turned, unwilling to see the girl -the same age as his own daughter- thrown to certain death.

Hatsumi screamed in horror as the men hoisted her above their heads. "Please... don't do this to me... I'm sorry... please..." she pleaded one last time, writhing like a serpent in their hands, before she felt the rush of the air and the sudden cold of the water cutting her voice short. The rain pelted down even harder on the ship as lighting and thunder danced across the skies. The inky dark water tossed her about as she clutched at nothing more than seaweeds...

She was going to die, Hatsumi cried, her tears mingling with the salty sea. Her hands held on to the weapon and she decided to stop struggling, and allowed the dark water to submerge her as Hirin's icy grasp tightened itself at her throat while the sea roared.

Min woke up to a deafening scream that mingled with her own. Then, there was the sound of people shouting their annoyance at the sudden loud noise as well as the innkeepers rushing to ensure everything was all right with their guests. The light of the darting lanterns as they rushed past her room hurt her eyes as Min tried to remember where she was. Grapsing for breath, her hand flew to her forehead, feeling the perspiration dampening the thin nightrobe she had worn to bed. She looked around in time to imagine a sudden jolt that seemed to come from the rafters overlooking her balcony.

She had checked Myrnal, who seemed fine. Min had lingered outside her room, opening it slightly to realise that the woman was all right. She just needed lots of water... yes, that was it. What was next then? Somnia was minding her own business. Altair... was off somewhere. Larkin and Demetri were leaving. She frowned as the sequence of events unravelled in her mind after a few seconds. Hearing another loud thump, Min jumped out of her bed. The cold night air freezing her already damp skin. She stood over the figure in the balcony as the wind blew around her, making the robe cling to her slight frame as she folded her arms in annoyance. She thought she had imagined the figure but here it was. In the flesh. In the form of a drow.

Stifling an urge to kick B'esctra, she held out her hand. "What the hell are you doing in my room?"

Friendship is unheard of in the Underdark. Distrust and paranoia often destroying relationships before they even began.

Shaking his head back and forth a few times, as if he were clearing unseen cobwebs from his mind, the assassin forced himself to focus upon a single point in the room and, as he gradually regained control, an elegant hand came into view. Taking the hand before he had time to process the Nijionese that Minshara spouted at him, the Drow sought to steady himself in her grasp while the throbbing in his brain slowly started to fade.

When he had regained a measure of his composure, B’esctra’s unearthly pale lips parted to unleash the first explanation that he could think of. “ I…I feared for your safety here Hatsumi. My homeland is a treacherous place and those that attacked you in the jungle sounded like they came from Nijon too. “Raising a gloved hand to his head once he had justified his presence, as best he could, he hoped to lead the conversation away from his unexpected arrival by discussing the revelations her nightmares had stirred in him.

“ We have not talked much about my past Hatsumi, though it was not because I was keeping things from you, I simply didn’t remember what had happened to me, and how I became the monster you see before you. “ He paused for a moment here and gently trailed one of his talons across the terrible scars that riddled his face.

“ I watched over you tonight, for your protection, but your …dream made me remember,  your dream made me SEE. “ at this point B’esctra didn’t know how to directly translate the word ‘nightmare’ into Nijionese and so settled on dream instead in the hopes that Minshara would make the connection herself. Brushing his tongue over his lips to moisten them slightly, he studied the woman’s face for a reaction for a few seconds and then decided to continue his tale.

“ I wasn’t like the other children when I was born. I could hear things in my head that others kept secret and excelled in my studies much quicker than the other boys. “ B’esctra would have sighed if he could, would have wept at the innocence he had lost and the childhood that had been stolen but all that he felt was empty, for it seemed the Mind-Flayers had stripped away his emotions until nothing but a skeleton of feeling remained.

Speaking of his imprisonment and subsequent torture, the Drow felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders as he could finally piece together the fragments of his past. “ I was taken from my family, from my friends, by the terror of the Underdark and then tortured for years with their experiments, with their powers of mind and magic. “ B’esctra finished relating these facts and then simply stood there, as still as a statue as he waited to see how his companion would greet this new discovery. Would she shun him? Would she turn him away? Only time it seemed, would tell.

"Everything all right in there, madam?" called one of the innkeepers from outside the door.

"I'm quite fine, thank you. Goodnight," she replied quickly, retracting her trembling hand once the drow had gotten up and backed away from B'esctra. "My name is Minshara and you will address me as such," she switched to Common and dropped her voice to soft enough for both of them to hear.

She didn't trust the drow. Not that she didn't want to but she had nothing to lose by not doing so, and potentially getting used and killed if she did. In a matter of days, he had shown her more attention than any of the other adventurers. The uncharacteristic show of good faith was too sudden and too easily spewed from what was his mouth in a face more scars than features. How long had he been hiding? How long had he been watching her? Those close to her had so carelessly thrown her to the sea - what more a stranger paid in gold.

"I didn't know those who followed Maedhros had hearts," she spoke plainly and civilly. "You say you watch over me for my own protection? You hardly know me. Whatever reason you have - I doubt it's that altruistic."

Still, what little B'esctra had mentioned about his childhood was similar to hers. It infuriated Min that she could not read his mind as she tried inwardly to focus her mind upon his. All she got back was the same silence that he had emanated all this while. Probably had something to do with the mental torture he endured. Perhaps, he had found some way to permanently block psychic intrusions out.

"I don't appreciate being spied upon," she turned away, half-expecting a blade to be thrust through her chest.

Min lit a lantern to brighten the room, her eyes hardened and devoid of warmth. The light flickered slightly as she tried to swallow the fear that had engulfed her during the dream. Yellow light flooded the sitting area, making the room seem bigger and less intimate, putting a distance between herself and B'esctra.

It was odd that Min found herself wanting to understand where the drow was coming from. Empathy was something she had been deprived of for so long. And here was someone who offered it on a silver platter. She had to be careful and protect herself from... her own potential stupidity.

And with that, she sighed - a soft almost mournful one enough for two people, though she didn't know it, as she thought of her own lost memories; the warm breath condensing into a dream-like cloud into the cold spring air, disappearing into the amber hue of the room. "So what is it you want with me?"

"Eep!"

Somnia grinned widely and nervously as her forehead broke out into a small sweat, her skin burning and bubbling with little goosebumps as if a ghost was giving her a massage.  Caught.  The girl calmed half way down with a deep breath, standing on her toes and wiggling her fingers nervously.  At least Myrnal looked to be backing away from whatever imminent danger had roused her from her roost, but it still gave Somnia a bit of a start.  Clutching the collar of her longcoat, Somnia slouched with a heavy sigh, her head sinking in relief.

"Ah...I was out for a while." she mumbled, somehow audible.  "There was a hot spring.  It felt nice and I fell asleep outside.  Just got back"

Like a deer attracted to a predator that looked all too nice, Somnia strolled a few steps towards Myrnal while clasping her hands at her waist, peeking down past the other doors with a deep lean to the side.  She blinked a few times, humming to herself before looking with a quite confused, blank face at Myrnal.

"Huu...What are you doing awake, Miss Myrnal?  Aren't you still...well...sickish?  I thought for certain something was going amiss.  You looked like a tiger!  A tiger about to POUNCE!" Somnia whispered loudly, raising her hands like little paws and waving her fingers.