The Dawn Shard, 1/4
Title: The Dawn Shard
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Matsumoto Jun/Sakurai Sho; Arashi
Summary: The Empire of Janizu has conquered Arashia, Kingdom of the Mages. With the help of two greedy sky pirates and a traitorous Janizian scholar, will the exiled Mage Prince Jun be able to restore Arashia's independence?
Notes/Warnings: Written for lover_youshould for the je_otherworlds fic exchange. The plot is based on the game Final Fantasy XII, but you should be able to follow along without knowing the game.
There was a flash of light outside of the tent, then the thundering noise of another firebomb exploding. "The barrier will not hold," one of the nurses said, her hands shaking as gentle tendrils of magic slipped from her fingers to pool around the soldier on the table's wound.
"It will hold," he said, pacing the floor in irritation. "By the gods, my father himself cast that barrier. It shall not fall."
The nurse went back to her healing. "Of course, Your Highness. It is foolish to doubt the king's abilities."
Jun's confidence in his father's abilities, however, was slowly waning with each orange burst of sparks crackling against the powerful magics above and around them, despite his outward determination. The enemy had finally come to their door, and for what purpose, he did not fully understand. For years, their small kingdom had been a powerful ally of Janizu - what Arashia lacked in military strength or natural resources she fully made up for in magic and healing.
For centuries, pilgrims and the ill had flocked to Arashia's borders for medicines and defense, and few were ever turned away. Even the ablest and wealthiest of Janizu sought out Arashia's tacticians to construct magical barriers of protection for everything from their personal items to the chambers of Emperor Kitagawa himself. It seemed, though, that Janizu thought an independent Arashia was too much of a threat.
The tent flap opened, and from the look in his friend's eyes, Jun knew something had gone wrong. "General Oguri?" he asked quietly. "News for me?"
Shun removed his helmet and nodded. "They've weakened the barrier enough to fly small vessels in. The capital is under attack."
"Under attack?" Jun cried. They'd been fighting out in the Arashian desert for weeks, protecting the border. How had Janizu made it all the way to the capital?
"They came from the south, Your Highness," Shun admitted. "Through the mountains, turned enough mages traitor or paid them off to cast just enough spells. We must return at once. I've readied the Fortuna."
It was all falling apart, Jun realized. He was twenty-three years old, and his kingdom was falling. He should have been out at the front line, reinforcing the barriers and fighting amongst the men. He'd let his father's words sway him - he was Arashia's only heir, he needed to stay out of harm's way. So he'd stayed out of sight, moving from tent to tent. Speaking to soldiers, healing wounds, brewing potions. The work of a coward, not of the future king.
He readied his gear, stepping out of the tent and following Shun to the Fortuna. Even as they walked, he could see the small Arashian ships flying overhead, high above the magical barrier that extended from the northern deserts to the southern mountains. The ships of Janizu were ten times their size - it was a country at perpetual war, a country in tireless pursuit of yet another conquest. It had been foolish to think Arashia would remain invulnerable for so long.
The Fortuna, his father's flagship, would take him home to Hanayori. He wondered if his father was out on the castle walls himself, sending flames and lightning against the Janizian vessels. He'd join him, Jun decided. He'd stayed out of the way too long. If this was Arashia's last stand, then his own magic would play a part in it. He entered the ship, feeling a sudden heaviness in his chest, dropping his bag to the floor.
"Shun," he murmured, a headache seizing him. "Shun, something's wrong."
"Yes, Your Highness," Shun said, closing the door and waving for the pilot to take off. "And I apologize."
The headache grew more powerful, an intense stinging within his mind. His limbs were like jelly, and he sank to the floor, paralyzed. He'd been in the tent, perfectly healthy moments earlier. He'd been under the desert sun for only a short time. He raised his hand weakly to his forehead, attempting to summon up the strength to cast a healing spell. It only made the headache more powerful, and he winced. "Shun, what's wrong with me?"
He looked up, seeing the pain in the General's face. They'd grown up side by side, learning spells together, training together. He'd never seen Shun look that way before. "I am sorry. But our country has been breached. The king wanted us to fight, to resist..."
"And we have resisted," Jun murmured, trying to sit up, leaning against the Fortuna's bulkhead as he struggled against the pain. It couldn't be happening - it wasn't possible. Not Shun. Not his oldest friend. "We have resisted to the last mage, and we will resist until Arashia is free once again."
"No," Shun said simply. "Too many have died. And too many will die for as long as we fight them. It is in the best interest of your people that we surrender."
"You've stolen it," Jun said, holding his hand out. As the heir to the most powerful mage dynasty, all he needed to do was snap his fingers, and he could set his best friend aflame. Nothing was happening. His magic was gone. "What have you done, Shun?"
Shun sighed, knocking on the bulkhead. "Reinforced metal from a Janizian mine. Anti-magic, as you know. You won't be casting anything in here. And I am truly sorry to do this to you."
They'd put Janizian metal in his father's own flagship? Jun tried to move, dragging his weakening body along the floor. What good was a mage prince if he had no magic? What good was he to his kingdom? He tried to reach for Shun, to discover that it was all a silly prank and the Fortuna was well on its way to Hanayori to join the castle's last stand. "Traitor," Jun said. "You're a traitor! You will take me to the capital and let me join my father!"
Shun moved, setting his boot down on top of Jun's fingers. "Your father is dead. And soon everyone will know. The war is over..."
"You lie!" Jun cried.
"I wouldn't," Shun said, foot pressing down harder. "Not to you. Not about your father."
His father was dead? It was impossible. His father was the most powerful mage in the world. But at the same time, if even his top general had turned on him...
"Why won't you kill me?" he asked, feeling tears sting his eyes. "You know I will fight you."
"The Janizians have other plans for you."
Jun had failed. Utterly failed. He was useless at the front lines, useless to see that even his best friend desperately wanted the war to end. Arashia had fallen, and Jun was king. A king who would most likely not be crowned. Things were happening so quickly, and the pain was too intense. All he could do was curl up on the floor of what had once been Arashia's finest ship - a ship that would be nothing but scrap metal to the Janizian fleet. He felt Shun's hands around his wrists, fastening metal bracelets. Wherever he was going, Jun's magic was to be suppressed. He was worthless.
When the Fortuna had been moored on the Arashian desert bluffs, Jun had been the prince and heir to a powerful kingdom - when the Fortuna landed again, Jun was a powerless prisoner of Janizu. They'd moored in Genji, south of the Janizian capital. He'd healed people here before during goodwill missions on his father's behalf. Night had fallen, but the city was aglow in celebration. As they led him from the airship to a small estate in the center of the city, he could hear the cheers. Arashia truly had fallen, and another land had come under Janizu's sway.
Like the Fortuna, the walls of his fancy prison were lined with the same anti-magic metal, though the pain in his mind was more a lingering throb - as though a flowing faucet had suddenly been twisted off. His magic was thoroughly suppressed. Shun bowed low to him. "Once again, I ask your forgiveness," the General said quietly. "I thought only of Arashia and the safety of her people."
Jun didn't respond.
"You will remain here as a guest of Emperor Kitagawa," Shun explained. "Until you see reason. Then you will be installed as Arashia's governor."
"I would be their puppet?" Jun asked bitterly.
Shun nodded. "Yes. And I think that in the end, you want what is best for your kingdom, Your Highness. As your friend, I know you better than anyone..."
Jun sat heavily in the large chair before the bedchamber's fireplace. "If only I'd known you in equal measure."
General Oguri bowed once more and departed. Jun stared out the window, having gone from prince to prisoner in the span of a day. The sparks he'd seen earlier over Arashia's magical barrier were now replaced with the sight of a rainbow of fireworks exploding in victory.
Arashia was lost.
--
FOUR YEARS LATER
--
Jun stared at the tea pot, concentrating with all his might. The bracelets around his wrists stung, burning his flesh as he tried to summon heat. He stared and stared, willing the contents inside to bubble. Exhausted after nearly an hour's focus, he relaxed, sitting back in his seat and scowling.
It appeared that tea would remain elusive today. In four long years' captivity, he'd spent a large part of his days meditating, attempting to regain some use of his power. Though Janizu conspired against him in both the construction of his prison and in the glimmering shackles on his wrists, he would never fully surrender to their wishes. And thus after four years, he remained in their custody, growing fat off of the rich Janizian food while he heard whispers that his traitorous friend yet ruled over Hanayori and all of Arashia, maintaining martial law.
Though Jun learned little of the outside from his guards, he could always hear the gossiping maids in the courtyard. They'd whisper about the magic suppression in Hanayori, how Janizian metal posts had been driven into the cement - how forcibly removing them could earn the death sentence. This was the solution Shun had chosen - instead of fighting for Arashian sovereignty, he'd turned everything they had over to Janizu. Medicine production had plummeted, thousands of mages and healers were out of work or forcibly suppressed to keep them from rebelling. Arashia was dying, slowly but surely.
In a month's time, things would be changing. Emperor Kitagawa had come personally to inform him. As Prince Jun of Arashia had remained "largely uncooperative," there seemed little point in a continued life of luxurious exile. He was to be shuttled off to a mine for hard labor - and being surrounded by all the metallic ore would surely end his life within a few months. What story any Arashian resistance would be told would surely differ. Since Jun would not be taking over as Janizu's puppet governor, the Emperor's grandson Akanishi Jin would be installed as Arashia's new leader.
Jun didn't much care. His exile had been long and pointless, his hours wasted as they sent scholar after scholar to attend to him. Day after day, they'd done their best to indoctrinate him, to proselytize about how glorious an entire world ruled by Janizu might be. All had failed. He'd asked again and again to be executed, to ensure that with his death any Arashian resistance would be quashed and no more lives would be lost. To simply let the Janizian grip on his homeland be relaxed. He had no magic, no sway, nothing remaining to him. He had nothing to fight for but for his people to have some measure of the freedom they used to enjoy.
In his earliest days, he'd been more defiant. Flinging tea pots and his meal trays, refusing to eat until they had to forcibly feed him. Attacking the guards with whatever he had until they'd taken out anything from his rooms that might cause harm to himself or others. What remained was his furniture (bolted to the floor) and the books (all Janizian propaganda and wishful thinking). It had been so long since he'd cast that he'd largely forgotten what it felt like to have the power rushing through his veins, the confidence and strength it had given him. Now he simply didn't care.
The door opened. They'd long since stopped announcing themselves, any respect for his title or standing, or even that of his father's, had long since ceased to matter to them. Where he expected it to be his latest scholarly companion in a long line of them, old man Ogura had not come to his chamber that day. Instead there were two men - Nishikido the head guard and a man he had never seen. The newest man was obviously a scholar from his spectacles, fancy clothing, and armload of scrolls, but he differed from all the others in age. He was maybe the same age as Jun himself.
Nishikido seemed as bored as always. Whether Nishikido's apathy had worn off on Jun or vice versa, the guards paid him little mind. "Ogura has given up on you. Can't blame him," Nishikido explained, hand brushing against his scabbard as it usually did to serve as Jun's only reminder that the man was armed. "Your new friend."
The scholar had neatly trimmed dark hair and a round but handsome face. Unlike most Janizians who lived in poverty so that their empire might be at constant war, this man was well-fed. Someone of influence or from it. "Sakurai Sho," he introduced himself. "I'm a lecturer at Keio Academy."
"Matsumoto Jun, King-in-exile of Arashia," he replied with little enthusiasm. "But I suppose you knew that."
"Get along, gents," Nishikido said with a tip of his helmet before departing, locking the door to Jun's chambers. Jun got up from the table, wandering to the window that overlooked the courtyard. They'd installed iron bars to take away the temptation to jump a few years prior.
"Keio Academy," Jun mused. "That's a top institution."
"It is, Your Highness."
He started at that, turning on his guest in confusion. Most of the scholars who'd been sent to make him "play nice" had disregarded his title long before. Some had even been coarse enough to address him by his given name. "And what is your specialty, Mr. Sakurai? Analysis of the mind? They've had several of those try to come lecture me over the years, and I'm afraid you'll be wasting your time the same as them."
The man pushed his spectacles up further on his nose, undeterred. "Magic actually."
Jun stared. "Magic?"
The man turned red, finally settling the scrolls on the dining table, rifling through them as if to busy his hands. "Ah, more like magic theory. Practical applications of magic. That sort of thing. A purely scholarly standpoint, I assure you."
He leaned against the wall, letting the dull breeze waft into the room. Month after month, they'd sent orators and professors to try and sway him. They'd yet to send him anyone who knew a thing about him. "Well, you're a bit late, Mr. Sakurai. For you see, in a few weeks I'll be returning to the job force. Working a pickaxe with convicts and criminals at the Rurapenthe mines. So I wouldn't want to waste your time when you could be, ah, practically applying magic somewhere."
The man chuckled, revealing a rather toothy smile that seemed charming and almost kind. The Janizians were so militaristic, so lacking in humor. Sakurai was a strange one. "It doesn't hurt to try, Your Highness. In truth, I lobbied for the opportunity to speak with you."
It seemed to Jun as though most of the unfortunate saps sent to waste their time on him had been retired or had displeased the Emperor in some way. And yet this Sakurai had volunteered? "Are you writing a treatise, Sakurai? Are you here to study me? There's not much to say. I allowed my country to slip right through my fingers, I've lost everything. You'd only get a sad little tale of a sad little man."
Sakurai studied him, but not as a specimen in a jar. There was something a bit softer in the man's gaze. "I heard that His Grace, the Emperor's grandson, would be taking the governorship. I thought that perhaps I could convince you to keep that from happening."
Jun crossed his arms. "Why? Does it matter who's living in my father's castle in the end? Does it matter when your people whip mine into submission, force them into these bracelets to suppress the very thing that helps put food on the table?"
Sakurai didn't answer, instead unrolling several of the scrolls before gesturing for Jun to have a seat. "As someone who studies what is probably something second nature to you, I hope you'll forgive my ignorance. I've been studying the top mage families of Arashia, including your family line. To have a better understanding of Arashia's politics, history, that sort of thing."
"I see."
Sakurai gestured to a rather old duplication of Jun's family tree, back several generations from the look of the names and the writing system that had long since been simplified. "Here, at the beginning of the current line of succession, and by that I mean your ancestor Matsumoto Akihiko, are you able to translate what's written here beside his name? I'm afraid the old script still eludes me in places..."
Jun sighed, glancing over the handwritten charts, painstakingly copied and illuminated. "Matsumoto Akihiko, it says. Then here beside it the text reads 'ascended by birthright.'"
Sakurai scooted his seat over until he was side by side with Jun. The man had the strangest scent - the refined smell of elegant cologne, and yet something else - as though he'd been in some smoky tavern just prior to his visit. Not that Genji wasn't full of them, being such an important trading town near the border with Arashia. However, a Keio Academy scholar would definitely be out of place in one. "Ascended by birthright, just as I thought, but thank you indeed for confirming that. Not too many yet familiar with the old writings..."
"You killed most of the mage scholars when you invaded Hanayori," Jun accused, even though Sakurai himself had obviously not done so. Jun, however, had little interest in curbing his tongue or his opinions on the Janizian war machine. "So no, I'd say there aren't many people left who can read it."
The man did not seem offended at all. "And what is the birthright, Your Highness? What does it mean to ascend by birthright in your history? Obviously all of Matsumoto Akihiko's descendants followed him to the throne, but what put him there in the first place? Was it a choice amongst your people centuries earlier to crown him or...?"
It had been a long time since Jun had nodded off to the tutor's words back in his father's castle. When he'd been younger and rebellious, he'd done his best to ignore history, focusing instead on improving his abilities and healing arts. What had it mattered back then to concern himself with the history of the family dynasty when it had seemed so obvious that he would succeed anyhow? Was Sakurai writing some book? What did he care? But Jun found himself pondering the question, weighing it over in his mind. Something about Sakurai's seeming earnestness kept him from rejecting him outright. "Well, there was the Dawn Shard."
Sakurai's eyes widened behind his spectacles. "And what was that?"
Too many dates, places, names in his head, Jun thought worriedly. What was it? What had that old tutor rambled on about? "The Dawn Shard was, if I remember correctly, a stone of incredible power. It had been in Matsumoto Akihiko's family for generations, but only he was able to unlock the power within the stone. It helped him construct the first magic barrier over part of Hanayori. Of course, the mages got better. The Shard became nothing more than a story as they learned to use their own abilities to create barriers."
"But a man possessing the stone could, in effect, be described as the proper leader of Arashia?" Sakurai asked.
Jun scratched his head. Between his failed attempt with the teapot and the scholar's odd curiosity, his brain was starting to ache. "Well, I suppose, yes. It's probably just a piece of rock. I could chuck it at your Emperor, but where would that get me in terms of wishing for independence?"
Sakurai laughed, scribbling down some notes with a pencil. "Dawn Shard, was it? A rather simple name. You Arashian mages always were practical in your naming."
"We can't all be Janizian," Jun retorted, growing annoyed.
"So where might this Dawn Shard be now?"
"Why, so the Emperor's grandson could charm his latest courtesan with it? Turn it into a present?"
Sakurai's face changed. He slipped off his spectacles, setting them down on the table. Any sense of joviality seemed to vanish in an instant. "Your Highness, with that stone, you might be able to throw the Emperor out of Arashia entirely." Jun was startled as Sakurai dug through the other scrolls, pointing to the ancient writing on another piece of parchment. "Right here, 'And the Dawn Shard, blessed and made sacrosanct by His Holiness, Guardian Kondo...'"
"Just a moment," Jun interrupted, staring his visitor down. "I thought you couldn't read that."
"I lied. Forgive me," Sakurai replied, eyes scanning the document further. "Yes, yes, it continues. 'His Holiness, Guardian Kondo swore on this date that whosoever possesses the Dawn Shard shall maintain the realm of Arashia in perpetuity.' Perpetuity, Your Highness."
"Hold on now," he whispered, trying to get Sakurai to quiet down, grabbing hold of his wrist. He didn't need Nishikido overhearing them outside the door. "What the hell are you going on about? Stones and Guardians and all this. Are you attempting to trap me? Are you trying to start a rebellion of your own? Because I will not play a part of it..."
Sakurai's face was utterly serious. "Your Highness. You've been in here for four years, and for four years I have worked tirelessly to get myself into a position where I might be able to see you. Janizu is out of control. We cannot sustain such a sprawling empire. You need only claim this stone, have it verified by the current Guardian..."
Jun shook his head. "No, no, you're absolutely insane. The Guardian is not a secular leader. The Emperor would not simply acknowledge the opinion of a prophet if I show up with an old rock." For centuries, the Guardians in the Cloud City of Kaibutsu had been the spiritual leaders of the world - they'd turned a blind eye to the sufferings of all the nations who'd fallen under Janizu's sway before. What would really get them to intervene now after so many years?
"The Emperor might not acknowledge the Guardian, but the people would." Sakurai gestured again to the scroll. "The word of a Guardian is enough to redraw boundary lines. Your people could be freed, and any claim Janizu has on Arashia could be revoked. If the Emperor defies the Guardian, he would surely be overthrown."
"You could get yourself drawn and quartered in the town square for the treason you speak," Jun reminded his eager new scholar friend.
"It is a risk I'm willing to take, Your Highness," Sakurai said.
"And why?" he asked the man. "What does a Janizian care about Arashian independence? What could you possibly have to gain in seeing me on the throne?"
Sakurai got to his feet, gathering up his scrolls. "My reasons are my own, sir. And if you could kindly yell at me and demand for me to leave, the guards will have little cause to believe we may be plotting."
"We aren't plotting," Jun replied. "You're plotting. I never agreed to your foolish scheme. I have every intention of blinking out like an old star, as is the Emperor's wish in seeing me banished. My fate has already been decided."
Sakurai left one scroll behind, the family tree. "Then you are a disgrace to your heritage, Prince Jun. I thank you for your time and will return in a week in the event you reconsider."
Jun fumed. Who was this man to pass judgment on him or his heritage? A wealthy scholar with nothing but time and money to waste on studying pointless things. "Get out of here then!" he shouted, not dismissing Sakurai solely because of his request. "You won't convince me of anything!"
Sakurai's eyes were almost amused as Nishikido returned. Sakurai bowed to him. "Very good, Your Highness."
"I told you, Sakurai, he's a grumpy waste of space," Nishikido said, escorting the guest out.
Jun knocked the family tree off the table, heading for his bed in a huff. Stones and Guardians, ancient history. Nothing but a dream - there was no way he'd get out of his confinement to even retrieve the stone. And what's more, the tomb of King Akihiko where the stone was hidden (according to Jun's memory of the legend) had been untouched for decades. It lay far beyond the civilized portions of Arashia, lingering in the west past the Sea of Sand. Arashia's top mages had been unable to fully tame the wild wastes - without the aid of mages, it was just another bit of geography on the Janizian territorial maps.
He rolled onto his side, shutting his eyes. But perhaps Sakurai was right. Unlike the other scholars who'd done nothing but try to turn him to the Janizian cause, Sakurai had come to him with a treasonous plot that would see Jun's people freed. Was Sakurai lying? Was it actually a trap? No, he thought. Not with the way Sakurai had read the ancient writing with no difficulty. It was too unique a skill for an interrogator or brainwasher, especially amongst the Janizians.
He dreamt that night and in the several following about the way it would feel for his true powers to flow once more. From something as easy as freezing water in a glass to redirecting a lightning bolt as it emerged from a cloud. He'd grown too comfortable in Genji, too complacent. In three weeks, he'd be shuffled off to a mine. In three months, the mine would probably sap what remaining life he had in him. If Sakurai meant to trick him, then let it be a trick, Jun decided.
He imagined his father, casting and strengthening barriers. His father would be ashamed at the sight of him, allowing the Janizians to send him off to death when more Arashians were being killed or were suffering.
Jun found himself reading over the family tree Sakurai had left behind, tracing his fingers over Matsumoto Akihiko's name, over the names of all those who had preceded him. They'd been kings and queens, guiding and watching over the Arashian people. He'd see to it that he did the same. If this was his one and only chance after four years, then by the gods, he was going to take it.
--
Nishikido ushered in Sakurai once more. "I did not say you could bring this man here again," Jun grumbled, hoping that his acting skills were enough to convince the guard.
The man rolled his eyes as was his custom. "That's too bad. The Emperor's far more kindhearted than I'd be in his position. He still seems to think you can be rehabilitated."
Sakurai entered quietly, and Nishikido locked the door after him. Rehabilitation, Jun thought bitterly. More like trying to turn Jun against his own people. Sakurai bowed as he had previously, not meeting Jun's eyes. "Your Highness."
Jun moved to the table, unraveling the family tree. "I've given your foolish ideas some thought," he said first, not wanting to give the Janizian any feeling of victory. Jun was a little too proud to give the man that much credit for changing his mind. "And after some consideration, I am inclined to take back Arashia. For the sake of my people, whom I've abandoned for far too long. So then. We get the Dawn Shard, we get to the Guardian, he says I'm the true king. All too simple, I'm sure."
Sakurai looked up, thrilled at Jun's change of heart. His hands were shaking, and he gripped the table to calm himself. Jun would have thought it charming if the pair of them weren't plotting his escape. "Simple isn't a word I'd use for this adventure, sir."
Jun sat back in his seat, his bracelets clanking against the wooden chair. "And should you attempt to spring me and fail, you and I shall both die spectacular deaths. Yours would be especially painful. Your people do like to give more demonstrative lessons to traitors among their own ranks." A few years earlier, one of the guards had given Jun some sweets and had received a savage beating in the courtyard outside for "sympathizing with the prisoner."
Sakurai nodded. "If you feign illness, they'll send for a doctor. They won't release you for that, not even for the most serious ailment. I'm afraid, Your Highness, that you'll have to leave this place in a rather sorry state."
"How sorry?" Jun asked.
"Well, dead." Sakurai held up a hand as soon as Jun opened his mouth to protest. "Dead in appearance. I've been studying my share of potions, and I'd like to think that even if I lack the gifts of your people, I'm not that awful at brewing things. I'll slip you a serum, you'll drink it and appear to be dead. You'll be taken from this place to the capital. The Emperor will want proof of your demise. Before you get there, you'll be spirited away. I'll revive you, and we'll make our way to Akihiko's tomb."
Jun didn't much like how much he'd have to rely on Sakurai. Potions that gave the appearance of death used forbidden herbs, and Arashia had long since stopped the practice of manipulative medicine - not when so many people needed to be alive rather than dead in the first place. How in the world had Sakurai learned such a skill? And he didn't like the idea of being out of control of his own body - what if Sakurai failed with the antidote? What if Sakurai failed to get him away from Genji? What if the potion didn't work in the first place?
He asked all of those questions in quick succession, anger growing as Sakurai simply nodded at each concern of his in turn.
"I guess you'll just have to trust me," Sakurai said quietly. "You don't know me, this is only our second meeting, but I've known you for a lot longer. Or I feel as if I have. I've researched your history, your family, your life and childhood..."
Jun turned in his seat, facing away. "So you're some kind of obsessive fan?"
"Err," Sakurai mumbled, looking down, "I wouldn't say that precisely, but you're the true heir to your realm. A realm that served a greater purpose before Janizu decided it wanted another chunk of the world under its sway. An independent Arashia can lend aid to other countries and peoples. And since I've researched your role as your father's envoy, I know of your leadership capabilities. You are the only one with the right to rule Arashia, and the only one with the ability."
Jun didn't know if Sakurai was just trying to kiss his ass or if he actually thought Jun would be a good leader. He suspected the former, and secretly wished for the latter. His father had been a skilled mage - he'd heard the whispers and doubts among the ministers in the years before the war. Will Prince Jun be a worthy successor someday?
"So I'm to let you poison me?" he asked as calmly as he could. "You may know me, Mr. Sakurai, but how do I know you'll keep your word? Will you not give me some token of your promise? If I am to die by your hand and your poison, then I think it only fair that I have some trinket of yours that will incriminate you if this little plan goes south. Some ring or keepsake that will tell the Emperor that Sakurai Sho of Keio Academy was responsible?"
Sakurai smiled at him. "And if you're dead in a pool of your own vomit by my hand, what's to stop me from retrieving that trinket and clearing my good name before your body's even cold?"
Jun smarted at that. He leaned forward, elbows on the table, to meet the man's eyes. They were large and brown with obvious intelligence swirling within them. "You won't kill me," Jun said aloud, maybe for his own benefit as much as Sakurai's. "You can't kill me. If your plot is for real, then you need me alive at all costs. If your plan is false and you're just trying to lure me into a trap, it makes no sense for you to get me killed when Rurapenthe will do it for you."
Sakurai set his hand down on the table, palm up. "What if we shook on it? Or would you prefer I swear an oath? I, Sakurai Sho, promise to betray my homeland to see my enemy retake his conquered nation?"
Jun sighed, holding out his hand and allowing Sakurai to shake it. "It is suicide you're seeking. Are you so very confident in yourself? In me?"
Sakurai still had not released his hand. "You've been to Mita."
Jun frowned. "I'm sorry?"
"Mita. A district in the capital. Seven years ago, as a diplomatic envoy and healer. I saw you there, in Mita when I was still a student." Sakurai looked far more serious, squeezing Jun's hand. "I saw you lay your hands upon sick children, and within minutes they were running around without a care in the world. I saw you that day, Your Highness, and maybe it was then that I knew what importance Arashia held."
Jun tried to remember - how many towns and cities had he visited? Mita? He'd been to Janizu's capital several times, visiting the sick and lending aid. It was just what he'd always done back then. But he looked up, seeing the sincerity in the scholar's eyes. Somehow, seven years ago, even though he couldn't remember it at all, he'd helped people and changed Sakurai's life. Changed Sakurai's life to the extent that he'd followed Jun's every move for years, studying his history in the hopes of being able to be granted an audience.
What had Sakurai had to do to get himself placed at the table before him? What had he sacrificed, all for the opportunity to meet him?
"I believe that Arashia is yours to reclaim, sir," Sakurai said, his face turning pink as he seemed to realize he hadn't yet let go of Jun's hand. He released it quickly, and Jun was surprised to find himself missing the man's firm, honest grip. "And though I may not be of much use to you as a companion, allow me to help you in finding the Dawn Shard. If only to see the world right again."
"You would risk everything?" His status in Janizian society? His position at Keio Academy? His family, if he had any to leave behind?
Sakurai nodded solemnly. "I would."
Sakurai Sho, Jun thought. Who are you?
"Very well. I trust your potion will find its way here?"
"In another two weeks' time. I still need some ingredients, and black market trading is unreliable as you might imagine."
"Cutting it awfully close," Jun pointed out. In a little more than two weeks, Jin would be Arashia's governor and Jun would be in the mines, forgotten.
"It'll be perfect," Sakurai said. "Trust me."
--
Jun passed the next two weeks in nervous anticipation, saving most of his overt paranoia for the evenings when he'd lay awake and question everything that had happened between him and this Sakurai Sho. To think that someone so high up in Janizian society would throw it all away to see a small country of mages regain its sovereignty. And all because he simply believed in Jun, and that all based on one random day where he'd taken away a sick child's pain. Surely the healing power of a mage wasn't all that impressive.
He ate little, slept little, knowing that each minute ticking by was one minute closer to his freedom or his most definite death. He wanted to believe in Sakurai the way the man seemed to believe in him, but it was obviously easier on the person who didn't have to fake their own death. How many times had he been lectured about forbidden concoctions when he was younger? How many times had he been told that the medicinal arts should be used only to heal and never to harm?
But as Sakurai promised, the tiny vial of dark blue arrived in two weeks, mere days before Jun was set to be shipped off to the Rurapenthe mines. Nishikido hadn't even inspected the rolls of parchment that Sakurai had sent over - the scholar had covered them with so many Janizian seals and official-looking Keio Academy stamps that no one had thought to unravel them and find the vial hidden within.
Sakurai was waiting for him. Sakurai had surely brewed an antidote. The man obviously had some sort of plan to get him out of the estate, maybe even out of Genji. He rolled the glass vial between his palms, muttering out loud to himself. "Sakurai Sho, what is the meaning of all this? Father, what must I do? What must I do?"
He finally uncorked the vial, giving it a sniff. Nothing out of the ordinary, and it had an almost sweet aroma. Deceptively so. Jun wondered if historians would look back and note the occasion - the night Matsumoto Jun, King-in-exile, sipped a sweet poison and died. Or the night Matsumoto Jun, King-in-exile, sipped a sweet poison as the very first step on his way to freeing his people?
He put all his hopes into the small droplets as they hit his tongue. Death was coming - his heart would stop, and whatever Sakurai had brewed for an antidote would have to restart it. Though the man was no mage, the liquid itself was potent, and the vial fell out of his hand, smashing onto the tiled floor of his chambers. He could already feel himself start to seize up before his head hit the pillow.
He thought of the sincerity in Sakurai's face, the feeling of the man's hand in his own. To think that the fate of a nation rested with the poison now coating his throat. He felt no pain, only a curious sense of floating as his eyes fluttered closed.
--
The first thing he smelled was so foul that he was over on his side, heaving up whatever was in his stomach even before he opened his eyes. He coughed, feeling someone's hand rubbing his back. Where was he? He was alive. By the gods, he was still alive.
"I'm very sorry to bring you here, Your Highness," he heard behind him as he opened his eyes and spat into a damp pile of straw.
Sakurai had managed to revive him. Jun took the offered handkerchief from Sakurai's hand, wiping his mouth. He turned back over, seeing the scholar not in his usual finery, but in a dark traveling cloak that had obviously seen better days. His fancy spectacles were nowhere in sight. Somehow, he knew he was no longer on the estate where he'd wasted four years of his life. "You've brought me to a stable?"
"An empty stable, at least," Sakurai assured him, loosening the strings on a pack beside him to hand Jun a flask. "Water."
Jun took it gratefully, rinsing his mouth. The stable might have been empty, but traces of animal stench remained. Sakurai himself looked none too pleased with the smell either. "And where is this empty stable?"
"We're still in Genji," Sakurai explained, his voice a little less controlled than it had been during their previous meetings. Plotting treason and actually going through with it were two different things entirely. "I couldn't allow you to be moved very far. Your guard was paid off."
If the Emperor discovered Nishikido's complicity, the man would surely be executed. Not that Jun had been overly fond of him, but the guard had never given the impression of disloyalty to the Empire. He wondered how much of Sakurai's personal wealth had gone into this venture. "And my death?"
"Has already been widely reported," Sakurai assured him. "The Emperor's no fool. Better to declare you dead outright than to declare you missing. It would be an embarrassment if the truth was revealed. That's not to say they aren't looking for you. Or for me." Sakurai opened the pack, handing Jun a plain cotton shirt and trousers and a worn, but sturdy pair of leather boots. "Afraid it's a bit more humble than you're accustomed to, but we can't have you waltzing about in fancy things."
Jun accepted the clothes. It explained the bizarre scent Sakurai had had on their meetings - his posh cologne mingled with the scent of lower class establishments. Bartering for clothing, bartering for all the materials that would make the two of them disappear from polite society or polite imprisonment. He slowly got to his feet, shaking off Sakurai's offered hand.
"I am a king, you know," Jun said quietly. "I don't require your help. And as a scholar of my people, you ought to know that to come in physical contact with me is a violation of Arashian law."
"Oh," Sakurai murmured, flushing scarlet. "Forgive me, I did not intend any offense by it..."
He clapped the man on the shoulder and laughed. "I am teasing you." Sakurai truly had gotten him out and had cured him. He didn't much like the thought of it, but Jun owed the man his life. "Thank you. You are a man of your word."
Sakurai was still red in the face, crouching down to tie up his pack once more. "The city is in lockdown. Officially, they are spreading rumors of a plague. Unofficially..."
"It's a manhunt to see if we try to leave."
"Precisely."
"And you planned for this contingency?" Jun asked him, unbuttoning the silk shirt he'd worn in captivity. Sakurai turned around to face the stable wall. Jun had almost grown accustomed to a lack of privacy. He was grateful for Sakurai's politeness after so long.
"I did. They're examining every airship that leaves the aerodrome. On paper, to ensure the crew isn't carrying the infection out of the city. In truth, they're ensuring that we're not smuggled within. Which is why we'll have to find ourselves some rather skilled pirates."
Pirates? Sky pirates? Nothing but lawless smugglers. Treasure hunting plunderers who time and time again had caused problems for Arashia. How many medicines en route to a war zone or a town in need had gone missing, only for sky pirates to resell them on the black market? How many times had protective barriers failed due to pirate traps and trickery? And now Jun's revolution would rely on the same unscrupulous types? Surely it would fail.
He told Sakurai as much as he pulled on the new slacks. "Perhaps as someone from wealth and privilege, you haven't had to deal with their ilk before. We tried several sky pirates in the Arashian courts. I've seen my fair share. You can't trust a word they say. They'll just as soon drop you off in the desert naked and run off with all your valuables."
"There may yet be an honorable man amongst them..."
He sighed. "This is your great plan? Enlist the aid of thieves and criminals? Oh, it'll look wonderful if we find the shard, get shot between the eyes, and die in Akihiko's tomb while the pirates sell it for beer. Or, allowing for there to be some honor in them, how the Guardian would react if a fugitive king, his Janizian traitor friend, and a sky pirate wander into Kaibutsu looking for acknowledgment. It is a dream, Sakurai. A dream you are having," he said. Jun slapped his hand against the stable wall in his frustration. "I should have asked you for more details. If I'd known you were going to put me in the care of sky pirates I would have been on my peaceful way to the mines by now!"
"Your Highness..."
"No! This is unacceptable! If this is all your scheming has brought you, then it's best I head out of my own accord. I stand a better chance of survival by walking to the damned tomb than I do aboard a pirate's vessel."
To Jun's surprise, Sakurai grabbed him by the wrist, yanking him close. "I have done everything I could!"
"You will unhand me," Jun demanded, but Sakurai's grip was tight.
"No, you will listen to me first," Sakurai ordered, and Jun could see the suffering in the man's face. The dark circles from lack of sleep, his slightly sunken cheeks where they'd been more rounded on their first meeting. The man had been under more pressure and stress than Jun had given him credit for. "I have walked away from everything that is precious to me, all so that you might be free. All because I believe, foolishly, that you are someone who can make a difference in this world."
Sakurai shook his wrist, and Jun watched the bracelet there jangle about. "I can brew potions and set plans in motion, but only you can unseal Akihiko's tomb. I do not have the capability of breaking these bracelets. I do not have the capability of commandeering a ship. These are things a sky pirate will accept pay to do. So you can walk away and die with the bracelets of your conqueror around your wrist, content in your martyrdom, or you can do as I say and enlist the assistance of sky pirates."
The bracelets. What good was he without his magic? No amount of practice and strain in his imprisonment had restored his power to him. He wouldn't survive long in the wilderness without any means to protect himself. Sakurai decided not to wait for an answer, shouldering his pack and heading for the stable door.
"It is after dark now. The Lowtown taverns will be full of pirates eager for coin."
He sighed and decided to follow. Sky pirates. And he'd thought his kingdom falling had been insulting enough - now he'd require the help of pirates in order to see Arashia restored. And at his side for this journey would be a strangely passionate Janizian scholar - not the typical partner in a rebellion, but Jun was finding himself oddly interested in this Sakurai Sho. Easy to embarrass, yet easy to anger - not even Jun's father had had such faith in him as Sakurai seemed to have. For some reason, Jun didn't want to let the man's devotion to his cause go to waste.
PART TWO
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Matsumoto Jun/Sakurai Sho; Arashi
Summary: The Empire of Janizu has conquered Arashia, Kingdom of the Mages. With the help of two greedy sky pirates and a traitorous Janizian scholar, will the exiled Mage Prince Jun be able to restore Arashia's independence?
Notes/Warnings: Written for lover_youshould for the je_otherworlds fic exchange. The plot is based on the game Final Fantasy XII, but you should be able to follow along without knowing the game.
There was a flash of light outside of the tent, then the thundering noise of another firebomb exploding. "The barrier will not hold," one of the nurses said, her hands shaking as gentle tendrils of magic slipped from her fingers to pool around the soldier on the table's wound.
"It will hold," he said, pacing the floor in irritation. "By the gods, my father himself cast that barrier. It shall not fall."
The nurse went back to her healing. "Of course, Your Highness. It is foolish to doubt the king's abilities."
Jun's confidence in his father's abilities, however, was slowly waning with each orange burst of sparks crackling against the powerful magics above and around them, despite his outward determination. The enemy had finally come to their door, and for what purpose, he did not fully understand. For years, their small kingdom had been a powerful ally of Janizu - what Arashia lacked in military strength or natural resources she fully made up for in magic and healing.
For centuries, pilgrims and the ill had flocked to Arashia's borders for medicines and defense, and few were ever turned away. Even the ablest and wealthiest of Janizu sought out Arashia's tacticians to construct magical barriers of protection for everything from their personal items to the chambers of Emperor Kitagawa himself. It seemed, though, that Janizu thought an independent Arashia was too much of a threat.
The tent flap opened, and from the look in his friend's eyes, Jun knew something had gone wrong. "General Oguri?" he asked quietly. "News for me?"
Shun removed his helmet and nodded. "They've weakened the barrier enough to fly small vessels in. The capital is under attack."
"Under attack?" Jun cried. They'd been fighting out in the Arashian desert for weeks, protecting the border. How had Janizu made it all the way to the capital?
"They came from the south, Your Highness," Shun admitted. "Through the mountains, turned enough mages traitor or paid them off to cast just enough spells. We must return at once. I've readied the Fortuna."
It was all falling apart, Jun realized. He was twenty-three years old, and his kingdom was falling. He should have been out at the front line, reinforcing the barriers and fighting amongst the men. He'd let his father's words sway him - he was Arashia's only heir, he needed to stay out of harm's way. So he'd stayed out of sight, moving from tent to tent. Speaking to soldiers, healing wounds, brewing potions. The work of a coward, not of the future king.
He readied his gear, stepping out of the tent and following Shun to the Fortuna. Even as they walked, he could see the small Arashian ships flying overhead, high above the magical barrier that extended from the northern deserts to the southern mountains. The ships of Janizu were ten times their size - it was a country at perpetual war, a country in tireless pursuit of yet another conquest. It had been foolish to think Arashia would remain invulnerable for so long.
The Fortuna, his father's flagship, would take him home to Hanayori. He wondered if his father was out on the castle walls himself, sending flames and lightning against the Janizian vessels. He'd join him, Jun decided. He'd stayed out of the way too long. If this was Arashia's last stand, then his own magic would play a part in it. He entered the ship, feeling a sudden heaviness in his chest, dropping his bag to the floor.
"Shun," he murmured, a headache seizing him. "Shun, something's wrong."
"Yes, Your Highness," Shun said, closing the door and waving for the pilot to take off. "And I apologize."
The headache grew more powerful, an intense stinging within his mind. His limbs were like jelly, and he sank to the floor, paralyzed. He'd been in the tent, perfectly healthy moments earlier. He'd been under the desert sun for only a short time. He raised his hand weakly to his forehead, attempting to summon up the strength to cast a healing spell. It only made the headache more powerful, and he winced. "Shun, what's wrong with me?"
He looked up, seeing the pain in the General's face. They'd grown up side by side, learning spells together, training together. He'd never seen Shun look that way before. "I am sorry. But our country has been breached. The king wanted us to fight, to resist..."
"And we have resisted," Jun murmured, trying to sit up, leaning against the Fortuna's bulkhead as he struggled against the pain. It couldn't be happening - it wasn't possible. Not Shun. Not his oldest friend. "We have resisted to the last mage, and we will resist until Arashia is free once again."
"No," Shun said simply. "Too many have died. And too many will die for as long as we fight them. It is in the best interest of your people that we surrender."
"You've stolen it," Jun said, holding his hand out. As the heir to the most powerful mage dynasty, all he needed to do was snap his fingers, and he could set his best friend aflame. Nothing was happening. His magic was gone. "What have you done, Shun?"
Shun sighed, knocking on the bulkhead. "Reinforced metal from a Janizian mine. Anti-magic, as you know. You won't be casting anything in here. And I am truly sorry to do this to you."
They'd put Janizian metal in his father's own flagship? Jun tried to move, dragging his weakening body along the floor. What good was a mage prince if he had no magic? What good was he to his kingdom? He tried to reach for Shun, to discover that it was all a silly prank and the Fortuna was well on its way to Hanayori to join the castle's last stand. "Traitor," Jun said. "You're a traitor! You will take me to the capital and let me join my father!"
Shun moved, setting his boot down on top of Jun's fingers. "Your father is dead. And soon everyone will know. The war is over..."
"You lie!" Jun cried.
"I wouldn't," Shun said, foot pressing down harder. "Not to you. Not about your father."
His father was dead? It was impossible. His father was the most powerful mage in the world. But at the same time, if even his top general had turned on him...
"Why won't you kill me?" he asked, feeling tears sting his eyes. "You know I will fight you."
"The Janizians have other plans for you."
Jun had failed. Utterly failed. He was useless at the front lines, useless to see that even his best friend desperately wanted the war to end. Arashia had fallen, and Jun was king. A king who would most likely not be crowned. Things were happening so quickly, and the pain was too intense. All he could do was curl up on the floor of what had once been Arashia's finest ship - a ship that would be nothing but scrap metal to the Janizian fleet. He felt Shun's hands around his wrists, fastening metal bracelets. Wherever he was going, Jun's magic was to be suppressed. He was worthless.
When the Fortuna had been moored on the Arashian desert bluffs, Jun had been the prince and heir to a powerful kingdom - when the Fortuna landed again, Jun was a powerless prisoner of Janizu. They'd moored in Genji, south of the Janizian capital. He'd healed people here before during goodwill missions on his father's behalf. Night had fallen, but the city was aglow in celebration. As they led him from the airship to a small estate in the center of the city, he could hear the cheers. Arashia truly had fallen, and another land had come under Janizu's sway.
Like the Fortuna, the walls of his fancy prison were lined with the same anti-magic metal, though the pain in his mind was more a lingering throb - as though a flowing faucet had suddenly been twisted off. His magic was thoroughly suppressed. Shun bowed low to him. "Once again, I ask your forgiveness," the General said quietly. "I thought only of Arashia and the safety of her people."
Jun didn't respond.
"You will remain here as a guest of Emperor Kitagawa," Shun explained. "Until you see reason. Then you will be installed as Arashia's governor."
"I would be their puppet?" Jun asked bitterly.
Shun nodded. "Yes. And I think that in the end, you want what is best for your kingdom, Your Highness. As your friend, I know you better than anyone..."
Jun sat heavily in the large chair before the bedchamber's fireplace. "If only I'd known you in equal measure."
General Oguri bowed once more and departed. Jun stared out the window, having gone from prince to prisoner in the span of a day. The sparks he'd seen earlier over Arashia's magical barrier were now replaced with the sight of a rainbow of fireworks exploding in victory.
Arashia was lost.
--
FOUR YEARS LATER
--
Jun stared at the tea pot, concentrating with all his might. The bracelets around his wrists stung, burning his flesh as he tried to summon heat. He stared and stared, willing the contents inside to bubble. Exhausted after nearly an hour's focus, he relaxed, sitting back in his seat and scowling.
It appeared that tea would remain elusive today. In four long years' captivity, he'd spent a large part of his days meditating, attempting to regain some use of his power. Though Janizu conspired against him in both the construction of his prison and in the glimmering shackles on his wrists, he would never fully surrender to their wishes. And thus after four years, he remained in their custody, growing fat off of the rich Janizian food while he heard whispers that his traitorous friend yet ruled over Hanayori and all of Arashia, maintaining martial law.
Though Jun learned little of the outside from his guards, he could always hear the gossiping maids in the courtyard. They'd whisper about the magic suppression in Hanayori, how Janizian metal posts had been driven into the cement - how forcibly removing them could earn the death sentence. This was the solution Shun had chosen - instead of fighting for Arashian sovereignty, he'd turned everything they had over to Janizu. Medicine production had plummeted, thousands of mages and healers were out of work or forcibly suppressed to keep them from rebelling. Arashia was dying, slowly but surely.
In a month's time, things would be changing. Emperor Kitagawa had come personally to inform him. As Prince Jun of Arashia had remained "largely uncooperative," there seemed little point in a continued life of luxurious exile. He was to be shuttled off to a mine for hard labor - and being surrounded by all the metallic ore would surely end his life within a few months. What story any Arashian resistance would be told would surely differ. Since Jun would not be taking over as Janizu's puppet governor, the Emperor's grandson Akanishi Jin would be installed as Arashia's new leader.
Jun didn't much care. His exile had been long and pointless, his hours wasted as they sent scholar after scholar to attend to him. Day after day, they'd done their best to indoctrinate him, to proselytize about how glorious an entire world ruled by Janizu might be. All had failed. He'd asked again and again to be executed, to ensure that with his death any Arashian resistance would be quashed and no more lives would be lost. To simply let the Janizian grip on his homeland be relaxed. He had no magic, no sway, nothing remaining to him. He had nothing to fight for but for his people to have some measure of the freedom they used to enjoy.
In his earliest days, he'd been more defiant. Flinging tea pots and his meal trays, refusing to eat until they had to forcibly feed him. Attacking the guards with whatever he had until they'd taken out anything from his rooms that might cause harm to himself or others. What remained was his furniture (bolted to the floor) and the books (all Janizian propaganda and wishful thinking). It had been so long since he'd cast that he'd largely forgotten what it felt like to have the power rushing through his veins, the confidence and strength it had given him. Now he simply didn't care.
The door opened. They'd long since stopped announcing themselves, any respect for his title or standing, or even that of his father's, had long since ceased to matter to them. Where he expected it to be his latest scholarly companion in a long line of them, old man Ogura had not come to his chamber that day. Instead there were two men - Nishikido the head guard and a man he had never seen. The newest man was obviously a scholar from his spectacles, fancy clothing, and armload of scrolls, but he differed from all the others in age. He was maybe the same age as Jun himself.
Nishikido seemed as bored as always. Whether Nishikido's apathy had worn off on Jun or vice versa, the guards paid him little mind. "Ogura has given up on you. Can't blame him," Nishikido explained, hand brushing against his scabbard as it usually did to serve as Jun's only reminder that the man was armed. "Your new friend."
The scholar had neatly trimmed dark hair and a round but handsome face. Unlike most Janizians who lived in poverty so that their empire might be at constant war, this man was well-fed. Someone of influence or from it. "Sakurai Sho," he introduced himself. "I'm a lecturer at Keio Academy."
"Matsumoto Jun, King-in-exile of Arashia," he replied with little enthusiasm. "But I suppose you knew that."
"Get along, gents," Nishikido said with a tip of his helmet before departing, locking the door to Jun's chambers. Jun got up from the table, wandering to the window that overlooked the courtyard. They'd installed iron bars to take away the temptation to jump a few years prior.
"Keio Academy," Jun mused. "That's a top institution."
"It is, Your Highness."
He started at that, turning on his guest in confusion. Most of the scholars who'd been sent to make him "play nice" had disregarded his title long before. Some had even been coarse enough to address him by his given name. "And what is your specialty, Mr. Sakurai? Analysis of the mind? They've had several of those try to come lecture me over the years, and I'm afraid you'll be wasting your time the same as them."
The man pushed his spectacles up further on his nose, undeterred. "Magic actually."
Jun stared. "Magic?"
The man turned red, finally settling the scrolls on the dining table, rifling through them as if to busy his hands. "Ah, more like magic theory. Practical applications of magic. That sort of thing. A purely scholarly standpoint, I assure you."
He leaned against the wall, letting the dull breeze waft into the room. Month after month, they'd sent orators and professors to try and sway him. They'd yet to send him anyone who knew a thing about him. "Well, you're a bit late, Mr. Sakurai. For you see, in a few weeks I'll be returning to the job force. Working a pickaxe with convicts and criminals at the Rurapenthe mines. So I wouldn't want to waste your time when you could be, ah, practically applying magic somewhere."
The man chuckled, revealing a rather toothy smile that seemed charming and almost kind. The Janizians were so militaristic, so lacking in humor. Sakurai was a strange one. "It doesn't hurt to try, Your Highness. In truth, I lobbied for the opportunity to speak with you."
It seemed to Jun as though most of the unfortunate saps sent to waste their time on him had been retired or had displeased the Emperor in some way. And yet this Sakurai had volunteered? "Are you writing a treatise, Sakurai? Are you here to study me? There's not much to say. I allowed my country to slip right through my fingers, I've lost everything. You'd only get a sad little tale of a sad little man."
Sakurai studied him, but not as a specimen in a jar. There was something a bit softer in the man's gaze. "I heard that His Grace, the Emperor's grandson, would be taking the governorship. I thought that perhaps I could convince you to keep that from happening."
Jun crossed his arms. "Why? Does it matter who's living in my father's castle in the end? Does it matter when your people whip mine into submission, force them into these bracelets to suppress the very thing that helps put food on the table?"
Sakurai didn't answer, instead unrolling several of the scrolls before gesturing for Jun to have a seat. "As someone who studies what is probably something second nature to you, I hope you'll forgive my ignorance. I've been studying the top mage families of Arashia, including your family line. To have a better understanding of Arashia's politics, history, that sort of thing."
"I see."
Sakurai gestured to a rather old duplication of Jun's family tree, back several generations from the look of the names and the writing system that had long since been simplified. "Here, at the beginning of the current line of succession, and by that I mean your ancestor Matsumoto Akihiko, are you able to translate what's written here beside his name? I'm afraid the old script still eludes me in places..."
Jun sighed, glancing over the handwritten charts, painstakingly copied and illuminated. "Matsumoto Akihiko, it says. Then here beside it the text reads 'ascended by birthright.'"
Sakurai scooted his seat over until he was side by side with Jun. The man had the strangest scent - the refined smell of elegant cologne, and yet something else - as though he'd been in some smoky tavern just prior to his visit. Not that Genji wasn't full of them, being such an important trading town near the border with Arashia. However, a Keio Academy scholar would definitely be out of place in one. "Ascended by birthright, just as I thought, but thank you indeed for confirming that. Not too many yet familiar with the old writings..."
"You killed most of the mage scholars when you invaded Hanayori," Jun accused, even though Sakurai himself had obviously not done so. Jun, however, had little interest in curbing his tongue or his opinions on the Janizian war machine. "So no, I'd say there aren't many people left who can read it."
The man did not seem offended at all. "And what is the birthright, Your Highness? What does it mean to ascend by birthright in your history? Obviously all of Matsumoto Akihiko's descendants followed him to the throne, but what put him there in the first place? Was it a choice amongst your people centuries earlier to crown him or...?"
It had been a long time since Jun had nodded off to the tutor's words back in his father's castle. When he'd been younger and rebellious, he'd done his best to ignore history, focusing instead on improving his abilities and healing arts. What had it mattered back then to concern himself with the history of the family dynasty when it had seemed so obvious that he would succeed anyhow? Was Sakurai writing some book? What did he care? But Jun found himself pondering the question, weighing it over in his mind. Something about Sakurai's seeming earnestness kept him from rejecting him outright. "Well, there was the Dawn Shard."
Sakurai's eyes widened behind his spectacles. "And what was that?"
Too many dates, places, names in his head, Jun thought worriedly. What was it? What had that old tutor rambled on about? "The Dawn Shard was, if I remember correctly, a stone of incredible power. It had been in Matsumoto Akihiko's family for generations, but only he was able to unlock the power within the stone. It helped him construct the first magic barrier over part of Hanayori. Of course, the mages got better. The Shard became nothing more than a story as they learned to use their own abilities to create barriers."
"But a man possessing the stone could, in effect, be described as the proper leader of Arashia?" Sakurai asked.
Jun scratched his head. Between his failed attempt with the teapot and the scholar's odd curiosity, his brain was starting to ache. "Well, I suppose, yes. It's probably just a piece of rock. I could chuck it at your Emperor, but where would that get me in terms of wishing for independence?"
Sakurai laughed, scribbling down some notes with a pencil. "Dawn Shard, was it? A rather simple name. You Arashian mages always were practical in your naming."
"We can't all be Janizian," Jun retorted, growing annoyed.
"So where might this Dawn Shard be now?"
"Why, so the Emperor's grandson could charm his latest courtesan with it? Turn it into a present?"
Sakurai's face changed. He slipped off his spectacles, setting them down on the table. Any sense of joviality seemed to vanish in an instant. "Your Highness, with that stone, you might be able to throw the Emperor out of Arashia entirely." Jun was startled as Sakurai dug through the other scrolls, pointing to the ancient writing on another piece of parchment. "Right here, 'And the Dawn Shard, blessed and made sacrosanct by His Holiness, Guardian Kondo...'"
"Just a moment," Jun interrupted, staring his visitor down. "I thought you couldn't read that."
"I lied. Forgive me," Sakurai replied, eyes scanning the document further. "Yes, yes, it continues. 'His Holiness, Guardian Kondo swore on this date that whosoever possesses the Dawn Shard shall maintain the realm of Arashia in perpetuity.' Perpetuity, Your Highness."
"Hold on now," he whispered, trying to get Sakurai to quiet down, grabbing hold of his wrist. He didn't need Nishikido overhearing them outside the door. "What the hell are you going on about? Stones and Guardians and all this. Are you attempting to trap me? Are you trying to start a rebellion of your own? Because I will not play a part of it..."
Sakurai's face was utterly serious. "Your Highness. You've been in here for four years, and for four years I have worked tirelessly to get myself into a position where I might be able to see you. Janizu is out of control. We cannot sustain such a sprawling empire. You need only claim this stone, have it verified by the current Guardian..."
Jun shook his head. "No, no, you're absolutely insane. The Guardian is not a secular leader. The Emperor would not simply acknowledge the opinion of a prophet if I show up with an old rock." For centuries, the Guardians in the Cloud City of Kaibutsu had been the spiritual leaders of the world - they'd turned a blind eye to the sufferings of all the nations who'd fallen under Janizu's sway before. What would really get them to intervene now after so many years?
"The Emperor might not acknowledge the Guardian, but the people would." Sakurai gestured again to the scroll. "The word of a Guardian is enough to redraw boundary lines. Your people could be freed, and any claim Janizu has on Arashia could be revoked. If the Emperor defies the Guardian, he would surely be overthrown."
"You could get yourself drawn and quartered in the town square for the treason you speak," Jun reminded his eager new scholar friend.
"It is a risk I'm willing to take, Your Highness," Sakurai said.
"And why?" he asked the man. "What does a Janizian care about Arashian independence? What could you possibly have to gain in seeing me on the throne?"
Sakurai got to his feet, gathering up his scrolls. "My reasons are my own, sir. And if you could kindly yell at me and demand for me to leave, the guards will have little cause to believe we may be plotting."
"We aren't plotting," Jun replied. "You're plotting. I never agreed to your foolish scheme. I have every intention of blinking out like an old star, as is the Emperor's wish in seeing me banished. My fate has already been decided."
Sakurai left one scroll behind, the family tree. "Then you are a disgrace to your heritage, Prince Jun. I thank you for your time and will return in a week in the event you reconsider."
Jun fumed. Who was this man to pass judgment on him or his heritage? A wealthy scholar with nothing but time and money to waste on studying pointless things. "Get out of here then!" he shouted, not dismissing Sakurai solely because of his request. "You won't convince me of anything!"
Sakurai's eyes were almost amused as Nishikido returned. Sakurai bowed to him. "Very good, Your Highness."
"I told you, Sakurai, he's a grumpy waste of space," Nishikido said, escorting the guest out.
Jun knocked the family tree off the table, heading for his bed in a huff. Stones and Guardians, ancient history. Nothing but a dream - there was no way he'd get out of his confinement to even retrieve the stone. And what's more, the tomb of King Akihiko where the stone was hidden (according to Jun's memory of the legend) had been untouched for decades. It lay far beyond the civilized portions of Arashia, lingering in the west past the Sea of Sand. Arashia's top mages had been unable to fully tame the wild wastes - without the aid of mages, it was just another bit of geography on the Janizian territorial maps.
He rolled onto his side, shutting his eyes. But perhaps Sakurai was right. Unlike the other scholars who'd done nothing but try to turn him to the Janizian cause, Sakurai had come to him with a treasonous plot that would see Jun's people freed. Was Sakurai lying? Was it actually a trap? No, he thought. Not with the way Sakurai had read the ancient writing with no difficulty. It was too unique a skill for an interrogator or brainwasher, especially amongst the Janizians.
He dreamt that night and in the several following about the way it would feel for his true powers to flow once more. From something as easy as freezing water in a glass to redirecting a lightning bolt as it emerged from a cloud. He'd grown too comfortable in Genji, too complacent. In three weeks, he'd be shuffled off to a mine. In three months, the mine would probably sap what remaining life he had in him. If Sakurai meant to trick him, then let it be a trick, Jun decided.
He imagined his father, casting and strengthening barriers. His father would be ashamed at the sight of him, allowing the Janizians to send him off to death when more Arashians were being killed or were suffering.
Jun found himself reading over the family tree Sakurai had left behind, tracing his fingers over Matsumoto Akihiko's name, over the names of all those who had preceded him. They'd been kings and queens, guiding and watching over the Arashian people. He'd see to it that he did the same. If this was his one and only chance after four years, then by the gods, he was going to take it.
--
Nishikido ushered in Sakurai once more. "I did not say you could bring this man here again," Jun grumbled, hoping that his acting skills were enough to convince the guard.
The man rolled his eyes as was his custom. "That's too bad. The Emperor's far more kindhearted than I'd be in his position. He still seems to think you can be rehabilitated."
Sakurai entered quietly, and Nishikido locked the door after him. Rehabilitation, Jun thought bitterly. More like trying to turn Jun against his own people. Sakurai bowed as he had previously, not meeting Jun's eyes. "Your Highness."
Jun moved to the table, unraveling the family tree. "I've given your foolish ideas some thought," he said first, not wanting to give the Janizian any feeling of victory. Jun was a little too proud to give the man that much credit for changing his mind. "And after some consideration, I am inclined to take back Arashia. For the sake of my people, whom I've abandoned for far too long. So then. We get the Dawn Shard, we get to the Guardian, he says I'm the true king. All too simple, I'm sure."
Sakurai looked up, thrilled at Jun's change of heart. His hands were shaking, and he gripped the table to calm himself. Jun would have thought it charming if the pair of them weren't plotting his escape. "Simple isn't a word I'd use for this adventure, sir."
Jun sat back in his seat, his bracelets clanking against the wooden chair. "And should you attempt to spring me and fail, you and I shall both die spectacular deaths. Yours would be especially painful. Your people do like to give more demonstrative lessons to traitors among their own ranks." A few years earlier, one of the guards had given Jun some sweets and had received a savage beating in the courtyard outside for "sympathizing with the prisoner."
Sakurai nodded. "If you feign illness, they'll send for a doctor. They won't release you for that, not even for the most serious ailment. I'm afraid, Your Highness, that you'll have to leave this place in a rather sorry state."
"How sorry?" Jun asked.
"Well, dead." Sakurai held up a hand as soon as Jun opened his mouth to protest. "Dead in appearance. I've been studying my share of potions, and I'd like to think that even if I lack the gifts of your people, I'm not that awful at brewing things. I'll slip you a serum, you'll drink it and appear to be dead. You'll be taken from this place to the capital. The Emperor will want proof of your demise. Before you get there, you'll be spirited away. I'll revive you, and we'll make our way to Akihiko's tomb."
Jun didn't much like how much he'd have to rely on Sakurai. Potions that gave the appearance of death used forbidden herbs, and Arashia had long since stopped the practice of manipulative medicine - not when so many people needed to be alive rather than dead in the first place. How in the world had Sakurai learned such a skill? And he didn't like the idea of being out of control of his own body - what if Sakurai failed with the antidote? What if Sakurai failed to get him away from Genji? What if the potion didn't work in the first place?
He asked all of those questions in quick succession, anger growing as Sakurai simply nodded at each concern of his in turn.
"I guess you'll just have to trust me," Sakurai said quietly. "You don't know me, this is only our second meeting, but I've known you for a lot longer. Or I feel as if I have. I've researched your history, your family, your life and childhood..."
Jun turned in his seat, facing away. "So you're some kind of obsessive fan?"
"Err," Sakurai mumbled, looking down, "I wouldn't say that precisely, but you're the true heir to your realm. A realm that served a greater purpose before Janizu decided it wanted another chunk of the world under its sway. An independent Arashia can lend aid to other countries and peoples. And since I've researched your role as your father's envoy, I know of your leadership capabilities. You are the only one with the right to rule Arashia, and the only one with the ability."
Jun didn't know if Sakurai was just trying to kiss his ass or if he actually thought Jun would be a good leader. He suspected the former, and secretly wished for the latter. His father had been a skilled mage - he'd heard the whispers and doubts among the ministers in the years before the war. Will Prince Jun be a worthy successor someday?
"So I'm to let you poison me?" he asked as calmly as he could. "You may know me, Mr. Sakurai, but how do I know you'll keep your word? Will you not give me some token of your promise? If I am to die by your hand and your poison, then I think it only fair that I have some trinket of yours that will incriminate you if this little plan goes south. Some ring or keepsake that will tell the Emperor that Sakurai Sho of Keio Academy was responsible?"
Sakurai smiled at him. "And if you're dead in a pool of your own vomit by my hand, what's to stop me from retrieving that trinket and clearing my good name before your body's even cold?"
Jun smarted at that. He leaned forward, elbows on the table, to meet the man's eyes. They were large and brown with obvious intelligence swirling within them. "You won't kill me," Jun said aloud, maybe for his own benefit as much as Sakurai's. "You can't kill me. If your plot is for real, then you need me alive at all costs. If your plan is false and you're just trying to lure me into a trap, it makes no sense for you to get me killed when Rurapenthe will do it for you."
Sakurai set his hand down on the table, palm up. "What if we shook on it? Or would you prefer I swear an oath? I, Sakurai Sho, promise to betray my homeland to see my enemy retake his conquered nation?"
Jun sighed, holding out his hand and allowing Sakurai to shake it. "It is suicide you're seeking. Are you so very confident in yourself? In me?"
Sakurai still had not released his hand. "You've been to Mita."
Jun frowned. "I'm sorry?"
"Mita. A district in the capital. Seven years ago, as a diplomatic envoy and healer. I saw you there, in Mita when I was still a student." Sakurai looked far more serious, squeezing Jun's hand. "I saw you lay your hands upon sick children, and within minutes they were running around without a care in the world. I saw you that day, Your Highness, and maybe it was then that I knew what importance Arashia held."
Jun tried to remember - how many towns and cities had he visited? Mita? He'd been to Janizu's capital several times, visiting the sick and lending aid. It was just what he'd always done back then. But he looked up, seeing the sincerity in the scholar's eyes. Somehow, seven years ago, even though he couldn't remember it at all, he'd helped people and changed Sakurai's life. Changed Sakurai's life to the extent that he'd followed Jun's every move for years, studying his history in the hopes of being able to be granted an audience.
What had Sakurai had to do to get himself placed at the table before him? What had he sacrificed, all for the opportunity to meet him?
"I believe that Arashia is yours to reclaim, sir," Sakurai said, his face turning pink as he seemed to realize he hadn't yet let go of Jun's hand. He released it quickly, and Jun was surprised to find himself missing the man's firm, honest grip. "And though I may not be of much use to you as a companion, allow me to help you in finding the Dawn Shard. If only to see the world right again."
"You would risk everything?" His status in Janizian society? His position at Keio Academy? His family, if he had any to leave behind?
Sakurai nodded solemnly. "I would."
Sakurai Sho, Jun thought. Who are you?
"Very well. I trust your potion will find its way here?"
"In another two weeks' time. I still need some ingredients, and black market trading is unreliable as you might imagine."
"Cutting it awfully close," Jun pointed out. In a little more than two weeks, Jin would be Arashia's governor and Jun would be in the mines, forgotten.
"It'll be perfect," Sakurai said. "Trust me."
--
Jun passed the next two weeks in nervous anticipation, saving most of his overt paranoia for the evenings when he'd lay awake and question everything that had happened between him and this Sakurai Sho. To think that someone so high up in Janizian society would throw it all away to see a small country of mages regain its sovereignty. And all because he simply believed in Jun, and that all based on one random day where he'd taken away a sick child's pain. Surely the healing power of a mage wasn't all that impressive.
He ate little, slept little, knowing that each minute ticking by was one minute closer to his freedom or his most definite death. He wanted to believe in Sakurai the way the man seemed to believe in him, but it was obviously easier on the person who didn't have to fake their own death. How many times had he been lectured about forbidden concoctions when he was younger? How many times had he been told that the medicinal arts should be used only to heal and never to harm?
But as Sakurai promised, the tiny vial of dark blue arrived in two weeks, mere days before Jun was set to be shipped off to the Rurapenthe mines. Nishikido hadn't even inspected the rolls of parchment that Sakurai had sent over - the scholar had covered them with so many Janizian seals and official-looking Keio Academy stamps that no one had thought to unravel them and find the vial hidden within.
Sakurai was waiting for him. Sakurai had surely brewed an antidote. The man obviously had some sort of plan to get him out of the estate, maybe even out of Genji. He rolled the glass vial between his palms, muttering out loud to himself. "Sakurai Sho, what is the meaning of all this? Father, what must I do? What must I do?"
He finally uncorked the vial, giving it a sniff. Nothing out of the ordinary, and it had an almost sweet aroma. Deceptively so. Jun wondered if historians would look back and note the occasion - the night Matsumoto Jun, King-in-exile, sipped a sweet poison and died. Or the night Matsumoto Jun, King-in-exile, sipped a sweet poison as the very first step on his way to freeing his people?
He put all his hopes into the small droplets as they hit his tongue. Death was coming - his heart would stop, and whatever Sakurai had brewed for an antidote would have to restart it. Though the man was no mage, the liquid itself was potent, and the vial fell out of his hand, smashing onto the tiled floor of his chambers. He could already feel himself start to seize up before his head hit the pillow.
He thought of the sincerity in Sakurai's face, the feeling of the man's hand in his own. To think that the fate of a nation rested with the poison now coating his throat. He felt no pain, only a curious sense of floating as his eyes fluttered closed.
--
The first thing he smelled was so foul that he was over on his side, heaving up whatever was in his stomach even before he opened his eyes. He coughed, feeling someone's hand rubbing his back. Where was he? He was alive. By the gods, he was still alive.
"I'm very sorry to bring you here, Your Highness," he heard behind him as he opened his eyes and spat into a damp pile of straw.
Sakurai had managed to revive him. Jun took the offered handkerchief from Sakurai's hand, wiping his mouth. He turned back over, seeing the scholar not in his usual finery, but in a dark traveling cloak that had obviously seen better days. His fancy spectacles were nowhere in sight. Somehow, he knew he was no longer on the estate where he'd wasted four years of his life. "You've brought me to a stable?"
"An empty stable, at least," Sakurai assured him, loosening the strings on a pack beside him to hand Jun a flask. "Water."
Jun took it gratefully, rinsing his mouth. The stable might have been empty, but traces of animal stench remained. Sakurai himself looked none too pleased with the smell either. "And where is this empty stable?"
"We're still in Genji," Sakurai explained, his voice a little less controlled than it had been during their previous meetings. Plotting treason and actually going through with it were two different things entirely. "I couldn't allow you to be moved very far. Your guard was paid off."
If the Emperor discovered Nishikido's complicity, the man would surely be executed. Not that Jun had been overly fond of him, but the guard had never given the impression of disloyalty to the Empire. He wondered how much of Sakurai's personal wealth had gone into this venture. "And my death?"
"Has already been widely reported," Sakurai assured him. "The Emperor's no fool. Better to declare you dead outright than to declare you missing. It would be an embarrassment if the truth was revealed. That's not to say they aren't looking for you. Or for me." Sakurai opened the pack, handing Jun a plain cotton shirt and trousers and a worn, but sturdy pair of leather boots. "Afraid it's a bit more humble than you're accustomed to, but we can't have you waltzing about in fancy things."
Jun accepted the clothes. It explained the bizarre scent Sakurai had had on their meetings - his posh cologne mingled with the scent of lower class establishments. Bartering for clothing, bartering for all the materials that would make the two of them disappear from polite society or polite imprisonment. He slowly got to his feet, shaking off Sakurai's offered hand.
"I am a king, you know," Jun said quietly. "I don't require your help. And as a scholar of my people, you ought to know that to come in physical contact with me is a violation of Arashian law."
"Oh," Sakurai murmured, flushing scarlet. "Forgive me, I did not intend any offense by it..."
He clapped the man on the shoulder and laughed. "I am teasing you." Sakurai truly had gotten him out and had cured him. He didn't much like the thought of it, but Jun owed the man his life. "Thank you. You are a man of your word."
Sakurai was still red in the face, crouching down to tie up his pack once more. "The city is in lockdown. Officially, they are spreading rumors of a plague. Unofficially..."
"It's a manhunt to see if we try to leave."
"Precisely."
"And you planned for this contingency?" Jun asked him, unbuttoning the silk shirt he'd worn in captivity. Sakurai turned around to face the stable wall. Jun had almost grown accustomed to a lack of privacy. He was grateful for Sakurai's politeness after so long.
"I did. They're examining every airship that leaves the aerodrome. On paper, to ensure the crew isn't carrying the infection out of the city. In truth, they're ensuring that we're not smuggled within. Which is why we'll have to find ourselves some rather skilled pirates."
Pirates? Sky pirates? Nothing but lawless smugglers. Treasure hunting plunderers who time and time again had caused problems for Arashia. How many medicines en route to a war zone or a town in need had gone missing, only for sky pirates to resell them on the black market? How many times had protective barriers failed due to pirate traps and trickery? And now Jun's revolution would rely on the same unscrupulous types? Surely it would fail.
He told Sakurai as much as he pulled on the new slacks. "Perhaps as someone from wealth and privilege, you haven't had to deal with their ilk before. We tried several sky pirates in the Arashian courts. I've seen my fair share. You can't trust a word they say. They'll just as soon drop you off in the desert naked and run off with all your valuables."
"There may yet be an honorable man amongst them..."
He sighed. "This is your great plan? Enlist the aid of thieves and criminals? Oh, it'll look wonderful if we find the shard, get shot between the eyes, and die in Akihiko's tomb while the pirates sell it for beer. Or, allowing for there to be some honor in them, how the Guardian would react if a fugitive king, his Janizian traitor friend, and a sky pirate wander into Kaibutsu looking for acknowledgment. It is a dream, Sakurai. A dream you are having," he said. Jun slapped his hand against the stable wall in his frustration. "I should have asked you for more details. If I'd known you were going to put me in the care of sky pirates I would have been on my peaceful way to the mines by now!"
"Your Highness..."
"No! This is unacceptable! If this is all your scheming has brought you, then it's best I head out of my own accord. I stand a better chance of survival by walking to the damned tomb than I do aboard a pirate's vessel."
To Jun's surprise, Sakurai grabbed him by the wrist, yanking him close. "I have done everything I could!"
"You will unhand me," Jun demanded, but Sakurai's grip was tight.
"No, you will listen to me first," Sakurai ordered, and Jun could see the suffering in the man's face. The dark circles from lack of sleep, his slightly sunken cheeks where they'd been more rounded on their first meeting. The man had been under more pressure and stress than Jun had given him credit for. "I have walked away from everything that is precious to me, all so that you might be free. All because I believe, foolishly, that you are someone who can make a difference in this world."
Sakurai shook his wrist, and Jun watched the bracelet there jangle about. "I can brew potions and set plans in motion, but only you can unseal Akihiko's tomb. I do not have the capability of breaking these bracelets. I do not have the capability of commandeering a ship. These are things a sky pirate will accept pay to do. So you can walk away and die with the bracelets of your conqueror around your wrist, content in your martyrdom, or you can do as I say and enlist the assistance of sky pirates."
The bracelets. What good was he without his magic? No amount of practice and strain in his imprisonment had restored his power to him. He wouldn't survive long in the wilderness without any means to protect himself. Sakurai decided not to wait for an answer, shouldering his pack and heading for the stable door.
"It is after dark now. The Lowtown taverns will be full of pirates eager for coin."
He sighed and decided to follow. Sky pirates. And he'd thought his kingdom falling had been insulting enough - now he'd require the help of pirates in order to see Arashia restored. And at his side for this journey would be a strangely passionate Janizian scholar - not the typical partner in a rebellion, but Jun was finding himself oddly interested in this Sakurai Sho. Easy to embarrass, yet easy to anger - not even Jun's father had had such faith in him as Sakurai seemed to have. For some reason, Jun didn't want to let the man's devotion to his cause go to waste.
PART TWO