Plans and Progress

“So, at some point, an unknown healer pissed off the Mokushi nobles, and now they go to war over it,” Aster summarizes. “It must have been something major for them to hold a grudge for… Do we even know how long?”

“No, but I got the feeling that it happened a very long time ago. And it was a woman, they definitely referred to ‘her sin’. Are you sure there’s nothing in your history books that explains it?” Diane asks. Again.

“Unfortunately so,” Tenna says. “I’m well-versed in our history and have even taught a few classes. There are very few mentions of Kagemure to begin with, and after the Split, there’s hardly any.”

“But there must be records somewhere,” Diane argues, pursing her lips. “Not to sound critical, but your library here isn’t all that extensive.” She waves an annoyed hand, indicating the well-stocked bookshelves lining the walls in what passes for the fortress’s study, or library.

When she and Aster returned a week ago she had dived straight in, spending almost every waking moment she wasn’t with patients or training her magic in here. Desperately searching for more information about not only the Kagemure and their cursed disease, but also information on the previous Chosen ones, as well as the mystics and just how accurate their prophecies are. The results so far are anything but satisfactory.

“I’ve sent word to the scholars I know, without luck,” Tenna says, snapping the book in front of her shut. “I believe it’s time for you two to pay our glorious capital a visit.”

Diane groans. Sure, she and Aster had planned to go there, to visit the royal library, but now, after everything that's happened… it isn’t quite as appealing. Simply because of Aurelia. After the attack she had returned home, for safety reasons, and the fortress had been wonderfully princess-free ever since. The royal castle will not be. Diane’s fists clench just from thinking about it and the upcoming wedding.

On the other hand, the mystics – the ones responsible for both creating and interpreting the prophecy – are also there. Perhaps she can convince one of them to tell her more about the procedure, especially how to circumvent certain aspects of it. She refuses to believe those vague words have some sort of absolute power. Even in a land full of magic, the thought is absurd.

Unfortunately, nobody else seems to agree, convinced that not following the prophecy will lead to some unimaginable, unknown horror. So, yes, for the chance of rescuing Aster from the throes of fatal words, putting up with Aurelia is a small price to pay.

“Fine,” she says. “We’ll go.”

“Yeah, it’s our best chance,” Aster sighs. “I admit, I’ve enjoyed the peace and quiet here as much as anyone, but our duty is clear. Right now, information might be a more important weapon than an army of swords.” He looks at Tenna. “And I think you should come with us. It’ll leave the castle without a healer, but we need you there. Especially Diane, since she’s still working on her new spells.”

“Some of them definitely need more work. A lot of work,” Diane agrees. “But the minor ones I’ve experimented with should help people while we’re away.”

“Yes, those little healing patches have proved to be efficient,” Tenna smiles. “I admit that I was skeptical when you came up with the idea, since nobody has ever tried anything like it before. I guess we’re a little too set in our ways sometimes.”

“I suppose that’s natural. If everybody has a magic ability that makes them specialists in one area, it makes sense that people would stick with it. Then learning how to do it the hard and tedious way won’t be necessary.”

“People are lazy,” Tenna says. “No need to sugarcoat it, child. And I, for one, welcome the extra help in the healing wing. Having the maids handle most of the minor things has made us more efficient."

Frustrated by the inefficiency of magical healing she’d experienced before the attack multiplied the stream of patients, and inspired by her Kitty band-aids, Diane had gotten an idea. After many frustrating attempts, she’d finally managed to trap healing mana in small pieces of cloth. It isn’t perfect, and the mana fades after a week or so. Still, each little Mana Aid can heal a minor injury, and at least speed up the recovery for larger ones. Leaving a big stack of them behind for her new ‘nurses’ would be easy and make her feel less guilty for leaving.

“A big help,” Diane nods, then frowns. “But coming up with a way to heal from a distance would be even more helpful. The attack on the fort was chaotic enough, and I can only imagine what it’ll be like on a real battlefield. We won’t be able to move around freely to get to the injured, will we?”

“Most certainly not,” Aster says sternly. “You’re staying far away from any battles. The only thing you’re battling is the curse. And not up close.”

“Yeah, the curse.” Her face falls. For all her efforts, she’s made zero progress with the cure. None of her present spells has had any effect, neither on Aster nor on the various samples of infected plants she had brought for study. Nor on the now blackened corner of her soulbook: a sombre reminder of her time in captivity, and the importance of her task.

“Don’t worry about it,” Tenna says, patting Diane’s arm. “It may not seem like it, but we’re making headway. You’ll figure it out. I’m sure of it.”

“We will!” Aster sounds as confident as ever and Diane can’t help but smile, even if doubt still gnaws at her.

“Well, it’s time for the evening rounds. So much to do, so much going on.” Tenna puts the book down and gets to her feet. “We sure live in interesting times. Exciting times.”

“I always thought that was a curse. ‘May you live in interesting times.’” Diane chuckles, shaking her head, also getting up. “Seems I was right.”

*

“What is this place??”

“A temple for the soul that connects all living things.” Lilah pushes the heavy wooden door open and leads the way down a narrow staircase. “As well as a shrine for the souls whose bodies have passed.”

“A mausoleum? Like a burial chamber?”

“You’ll see.”

They pass another door and Diane finds herself standing not in a grave, but in a library. Beautifully carved shelves line the walls, each one holding several books of various shapes and sizes. All glowing in various colors, shades, and intensities. Soulbooks. So many of them.

Smiling Lilah spins around, hands spread as if in greeting.

“The souls of every Arakiba who’s ever lived rest here.”

“That’s… amazing.” The word is inadequate, but Diane can’t think of one that’ll express the awe, or the flood of emotions rushing through her. “They live on in their books, down here? Forever?”

“Forever is a very long time. Sometimes a soul will move on.” Lilah leads the way further in, to a shelf carved into the very rock the walls are made of. A few gray, lifeless books lay there. Ancient-looking. “Sometimes a soul will be reborn, leaving its book behind. Creating a new one for a new life.” She takes Diane’s hands and looks her steadily in the eyes. “Sometimes these souls are reborn in other worlds, though they're still connected to this one.”

Something stirs in Diane’s chest. It makes sense. She can feel the truth of it. But yet… It shouldn’t be possible.

“Are you… Are you saying that I’m an Arakiba?”

“I’m saying it’s a possibility. Though probably not. We’re not exactly known for our strong healers. But there are other families who are, like Tenna’s.”

“It’s a lot to take in.” Diane shakes her head, slowly, laughing softly. “Imagine that I could be Tenna’s great-great-great-great-grandmother or something.” The thought is staggering. Impossible. Hilarious.

“As I said. It’s a possibility. We have no way of knowing for sure.”

“Thank you for telling me. And for showing me this. It’s beautiful.”

“My pleasure. You deserve to know.” She pauses. “Don’t let the princess and her cohorts get to you. You’re not a stranger. You have a place here, a role to play. Perhaps more than one.”

“Thank you. For believing in me.” Diane looks around, biting her lip thoughtfully. “Does it ever happen that books, I don’t know… cooperate?” Diane asks a little hesitantly. “Bond? Outside of sappy romantic literature, that is?”

Tenna had provided her a stack of those books for ‘research’ when Diane asked about the strange behavior of her and Aster’s soulbooks in that cave. Not surprisingly, it hadn’t been helpful. Neither had all the winks and wiggling eyebrows. At least Aster’s mother seems to take the question seriously.

“It happens, but it’s a rare phenomenon,” Lilah says, coming to stand beside her. “Sometimes two souls are so perfectly aligned, so strongly bonded that not even death can separate them.”

“Soulmates…”

“Yes. But like I said, it’s very rare, at least outside of fiction. Not even once in every generation.”

“So, it’s possible there’s a connection before the persons involved die?”

“Certainly. The bond would start in life, then carry on across the border of death.” She gives Diane a curious look. “Why do you ask?”

“There was an, um, incident with our books that we haven’t found an explanation for.” A blush is steadily rising to Diane’s cheeks. She and Aster have been tiptoeing around those intimate moments, keeping the focus on the more academic aspects, not quite daring to speak of the emotional implications. “And there’s that line in the prophecy, about souls uniting. To soothe the flame? But we don’t know what it means.”

“There are many layers to a prophecy, as many as there are to a soul.” Apparently, Lilah can see right through her and gives her a warm smile, a hopeful glint in her eyes. “I can only guess, but I’m sure you will figure it out. You and Aster. Together.”

“I sure hope so. We’re running out of time.”