The smell of smoke permeated Raden’s nostrils as he awoke. He sat up, crossed his legs, and buried his face into his hands, trying to calm his heartbeat from the panic that refused to subside. He breathed in a deep, long breath, and exhaled slowly. His perspiration thickened the air around him, giving the darkened room an energy that was heavy with grief and remorse.
It had been ten years since the massacre at Carhay. From that day on, Raden had been unable to truly ever be at peace. He knew what he had done, and why, and that in and of itself was justification enough. He had honored his parents’ final wish, saving Kimi and surviving the massacre of his village. But deep down, Raden’s guilt would never let him truly forget. Perhaps there was one small action he could’ve taken or word he could’ve said to save his parents. The all-too-vivid reenactment of the massacre played over and over in his dreams. The nightmare always ended the same way: his mother staring back at him, telling him to flee as Raden jumped into the river with Kimi. The cessation of air, the involuntary swallowing, the darkness closing in on him induced an uncontrollable terror. The sensation of drowning freed him from the nightmare, finally forcing him awake.
He stared out the window, watching the branches of a willow tree flowing softly against the cool, early-morning breeze. The leaves rustled gently, swelling up and down, quietly wisped away by Mother Nature’s loving whisper. Raden allowed the moment to calm his nerves—but then the visions began to reveal themselves once again. Strange glowing markings, flowing throughout the willow tree, outlining it in a mysterious aura. Not again, thought Raden. He closed his eyes, blinked tightly, and slowly counted to five. When he reopened them, the markings had faded away, and the willow tree was untouched as it had been only moments before.
Ever since the massacre at Carhay, Raden had begun to see these mysterious markings, sometimes in the grooves of a tree trunk, in the ripples of a lake, or in the face of a mountainside. Raden could make out the strange angular patterns of the glowing markings, outlining them with his fingertips. He knew not what they meant, but they were captivating. He stared and studied them for as long as he could before they faded away. The markings glowed warmly, capturing his full attention. He found them fascinating at first; that is, until he realized he was the only one who could see them. Friends, teachers, and even Kimi caught him staring off into the distance, asking him what he was staring at. Initially, he tried pointing out the markings to them, but their doubtful expressions only made it clearer that this was his problem alone. Raden decided that he would simply tell people he was daydreaming. The excuse felt so much easier than trying to explain the truth. Now, ten years since the massacre at Carhay, Raden dreaded seeing the markings again. Was it a sickness? Was he hallucinating? These visions had become an undue burden that made an already-difficult life that much more stressful.
He exhaled again and stared at the small painting nailed against the wall of the cabin. The corners were crumpled and the paper yellowed from time, but the picture always settled down his heart rate. He had painted it at the Lunar Festival eight years ago, when he was nine and Kimi only a toddler. Falling cherry blossoms filled the picture, whisked about by the wind. Raden held Kimi’s hand, his other hand gripping a sweet pastry that was just out of reach of her tiny outstretched fingertips. She was reaching with all her strength, her feet propped up on her tiptoes, so close to her prize. Right beside Kimi stood Lulu; a young pup at the time, his talent for standing up on his hind legs and stealing food off of tables was both hilarious and an increasing problem. Lulu had become a member of the family from the beginning. When Raden escaped the Carhay massacre and had finally made it down the River Fate to the next village, his body washed ashore racked and exhausted. He lay by the riverbed, hoping he was close enough but unsure of which way to go. If not for a young pup nearby that had taken an immediate liking to Kimi, they would’ve been lost. They followed Lulu as he diligently guided them to the village and into the comforting arms of his own people.
Suddenly, the front door flew open as Kimi rushed in with a bowl in her small hands. In it she had prepared breakfast for him: hot steamy porridge and a few pickled vegetables, just the way he liked it.
“Good morning, Raden!” Kimi exclaimed as she made her way to the cot. Lulu barked in his attempt to say hello. The sight of the two of them, inseparable since they were little, made him smile.
“Raden, I made your favorite breakfast for you! It was supposed to have a piece of rice cake, but Lulu snatched it while I turned my head. I told him he was a bad dog, but I don’t think he cares.”
Raden chuckled as he stared at Kimi’s jet-black hair, done up in pigtails this morning.
“Kimi, did you know that I am the luckiest big brother in the world? Not only do I have a great little sister, but she also cooks me breakfast!”
With that, Kimi shined her big bright smile that stretched from cheek to cheek, and Lulu barked with joy to share in the moment.
“Why don’t you sit here with me? We can share this wonderful breakfast you made,” whispered Raden into Kimi’s ear.
Whenever Raden whispered into her ear, Kimi couldn’t help but giggle from the sensation of his breath. It always made them both laugh hysterically, but inside Raden also felt a twinge of pain as he remembered how their mother had done the same to him.
“Lulu, do you want some breakfast, too?” Kimi whispered into his little furry ear, but rather than giggle, Lulu sat up on his hind legs, ready to beg and receive.
They all shared a laugh and basked in the quiet joy of the moment. Kimi glanced over to the painting on the wall. Raden followed her eyes and stared along with her.
“I was so young in that painting, and all I wanted was the dessert in your hand. It’s too bad mom and dad couldn’t be in it, too,” said Kimi in such a soft, tender voice that Raden could barely hear her. To listen to his ten-year-old sister speak with such maturity both filled his heart with joy and sadness.
She misses her, but never knows what to say. She was only a baby when mom and dad were killed. How many memories could she really have of them?
Somehow, she could read his thoughts. “I think I remember the way she smelled,” whispered Kimi. “Like roses in the springtime.”
“Yes… she did,” answered Raden.
They finished their breakfast, talking about Kimi’s schoolwork and how her favorite subject at school was history. She enjoyed learning about the past and about the heroes and heroines of the Renzai Empire. She always reminded Raden that he could, someday, end up being a hero in her storybooks as well. That notion made Raden smile, for as facetious as he may have taken it, a part of him always knew that that’s what he truly wanted as well. He wanted to protect his family, his people, his empire from forces that would do them harm. We are the peace. We are the daylight. The mission of every Renzai soldier reverberated within his soul. His heart now, devoted to his empire’s cause. But deep down, his visions haunted his every step. Hiding beneath the surface, unsure of when or how they would disrupt his life.
As sunrise came up over the hill and filled up the cabin with morning light, Raden knew it was time to put on his uniform and head to base. Today he had a special meeting with the Prophet, and when one of the members of the Ministry of Transcendence called upon you personally, lives were often changed. The opportunity to become a hero had possibly presented itself this day.
Chapter 3