Six Words [Chapter 39] Japanese-inspired Progression Fantasy

Hey peeps!

If you want to start reading this from the beginning, do so [HERE].

ALSO, the name of this book will be officially changing to "Words of Power" so hopefully everyone is cool with that, LOL

Here is one chapter.

I'm super behind because I was very sick. Please forgive me!

Shami

Chapter Thirty-Nine

“The people of the Tze Empire give praise to Axraksii for shielding them from the harsh light.

The people of the Hantha Imperium worship Ozeon, and some third entity they claim is ‘Time.’”

- A quote from ‘Varinth’s Beginnings, a History Book’

            Evenfall axolotls burrow into the riverbed during the day and sleep, so once the two suns began their rise, I would have to stop my search. As the sky’s color shifted brighter, I hurried along the river, finding the last of the axolotls I needed.

            Once all four bottles were filled, I headed back toward Wist Castle. Both the Molar and the Eye were high above the horizon by the time I emerged from the tree line, and my body felt sluggish as I leapt over the first wall. Even though I was physically more powerful than any human had the right to be, I still needed to rest.

            I had to keep that in mind.

            As I made my way through the garden, I veered toward the back of the castle. It occurred to me then what while I had a physician, I didn’t know where he resided. Nikko was a man who just barely avoided my purge of the castle, and that was partially because he seemed to avoid all human interaction.

            Where was he?

            Thankfully, as I headed toward one of the many doors, I spotted Ketsu in the garden.

            He stood on a wooden walkway that led deeper into the perfectly trimmed trees and flower bushes. His white robes flowed in the morning breeze, and—strangely—he was holding a cup of tea up to the side of his head, as though he was about to pour it onto his scalp.

            Instead, a small spider poked out from his black locks and tapped its long legs against the edge of the tea cup before carefully lowering itself close to the liquid, no doubt to have a sip.

            “Ketsu-rah?” I asked.

            When he noticed me, his eyes grew wide while his eyebrows turned down until he was both shocked and angry.

            “R-Rimon-nox!” Ketsu fumbled for a moment, allowing the spider to retreat before he hastily brought the cup back down to a normal height to hold it. “What’re you doing out here? Why are you not in your room? Have you been out here all evening?”

            I motioned to his drink. “Were you… offering your tea to Itsy-Bitsy?”

            Ketsu’s face reddened slightly, but then he slowly nodded. “Well, it’s the proper thing to do. Obviously. He’s my little protector. And even tiny guardians need something to drink from time to time. I’d be cruel and heartless not to offer.”

            “Right.” I held back a chuckle. “I was just out collecting things.”

            “Oh, sweet darkness.” Ketsu shook his head and stepped closer to me. “You left a demon in the castle while you were away? What if she went on a rampage for blood? She could’ve eaten a dozen men in the time it took you to return!”

            “You’re offering her children tea in the garden—I’m sure you’re fine.”

            “Y-You don’t know that certain.”

            “I gave her specific instructions not to harm the people of this castle,” I stated.

            Ketsu pushed his ivory-framed glasses up higher on his thin nose. “Yes. Well. Good. That is a wise decision.” Then he waved his hand toward the castle. “Come. Let’s get you inside. I’ll have a bath prepared and—”

            “Take me to Mazun,” I commanded. “He needs this.”

            Ketsu, bound by magic to follow through with my orders, immediately whirled on his heel and headed for the nearest door. He clutched his tea cup close and huffed some sort of disgruntled musing, but he never articulated any actual grievance.

            “He is recovering,” Ketsu said as he slid off his sandals and stepped into the castle.

            I kicked off my sandals and followed behind him. “This will make sure he recovers faster. And from grievous injuries.”

            “Ah. Excellent. And this is… what now?”

            “The life essence of evenfall axolotls.”

            Ketsu shuffled through the castle hallway, turning in a new direction that led back toward the audience halls. “I see. So you’re collecting the essence of specific creatures to strength yourself? And others? I thought you were a Ring Warlock of death.”

            “I told you—not exactly. My magic is more complicated than simple death.”

            “I’ve noticed.”

            Ketsu kept his head high as we passed some of the servants, and even a few of my remaining advisors. They all bowed deep at the waist and refused to make eye contact with either me or Ketsu. I ignored them, only because I had work to do.

            “Mazun will be over here,” Ketsu said as he motioned to a sliding door decorated with cherry blossoms.

            This was Nikko’s physician’s office. The flowers matched his robes, and also indicated his profession.

            “And you’re certain this will help him?” Ketsu still had his tea cup, and he held it ever so delicately. “Mazun was quite injured.”

            At first, I thought Ketsu was intentionally being insulting, since he wasn’t using an honorific with the man’s name. However, since Mazun couldn’t hear us, it was commonplace to drop the honorific, especially if referring to someone close.

            “It will help him,” I said.

            “Good. Thank you, Rimon-nox.” Ketsu offered me half a bow and then stood straight. “Someone needs to look after that fool.”

            I lifted an eyebrow. “He saved your life—I’m surprised you two aren’t fast friends.”

            “Pah.” Ketsu stood straight and dismissively waved his hand. “Mazun has saved my life three times already, and nothing seems to get through his thick skull.” Ketsu placed a hand on his chest. “I’m ready to put this behind us, but he forgets nothing.”

            “He’s saved you three times?”

            “Once, we were accosted by bandits and Mazun dealt with them.” Ketsu counted with his spare hand. “Second, there was a fire, and I was trapped in building with plenty of flammable cloth and dyes, but Mazun chopped through it all to get me. And third was with the demon the other night.”

            I blinked once, holding back a laugh. They had known each other this long, and had that much history, but they still hated each other?          

            “Have you tried apologizing?” I asked. “For snubbing him when he first arrived to the castle?”

            Ketsu frowned and huffed at the same time. “For what? I barely did anything wrong. When he first arrived, I surmised he would hate me because I was half-Hanthan—and I was right. Since then, no matter how many times I thank him for helping, Mazun always treats me with indifference or callousness.”

            There was absolutely no reason for these two to dislike each other as much as they did. Shoki said that stubbornness is only considered a strength to the weak because the weak often confuse it with resilience. However, the inability to change and adapt, especially for the betterment of self and community, slowed growth.

            This felt like one of those moments where Shoki was correct.

            “You should apologize,” I said, firmly. “I won’t make it a command, but you should take it such.”

            Ketsu, his face emotionless, replied with a single nod.

            Sometimes, the man was dramatic, but occasionally, he reminded me he was a man of politics. I knew he was irritated, but he showed none of that.

            “I will speak with Mazun as I deliver him this essence.” I stepped closer to the door. “And thank you. For showing me the way.”

            “That’s why I’m your advisor,” Ketsu quipped.

            With a small smile, I slid open the door and stepped into a wellness room. Incense was burning, the aroma hanging delicately on the air. It smelled of roses and ginger. Futons were rolled out on the ground, all of them made from the finest white duck down.

            Mazun rested on a futon nearest the far wall, just under a window with its shutters closed. No one else was in the room—just me, and the resting Mazun. I thought it odd that the other futons were still on the floor with no one in them. It was proper etiquette to pick them up and put them away after use.

            I ignored that and strode over to my bladekeeper.

            When I approached, the man opened his eyes. His silk blankets, golden and white, were tightly wrapped around his body, only exposing his bare shoulders. Bruises marred his skin, but otherwise, he seemed whole.

            “I hope I didn’t disturb you,” I whispered.

            Mazun grunted as he forced himself into a sitting position. “Rimon-nox.” He bowed his head. “Do you need my sword?” His hand to the edge of the futon where his special weapon was just barely tucked under the folds of his blankets.

            I held out the lacquered vial. “No. I need you to drink this and rest.”

            Mazun didn’t question me. He didn’t even inquire about the substance of the vial. He simply took it, unstopped the top, and then consumed the silver liquid within. He cringed as he did so, as though the taste were quite unpleasant, but even then—he didn’t complain.

            He handed me the vial back.

            “This will help you heal faster—forever,” I said.

            Mazun curtly nodded. “Thank you. A very generous gift for a bladekeeper who failed you.”

            I hadn’t been expecting that. It took me by surprise, and I had to replay the battle with the demon to even guess at what he meant. “Because you didn’t defeat our opponent? Is that why you think you failed me?”

            “That is why I have this sword. I should’ve been able to slay that neonate demon. It was in my capability, but…”

            “You saved Ketsu.” I tucked the vial away. “And you threw yourself into harm’s way without a second thought or hesitation. I’m impressed.”

            “Feh.” Mazun tightened his fists on the blankets, glaring a hole in the bedding with his displeasure. “When you’re a bladekeeper, how you die is just as important as how live. I will never be afraid to carry out my duty. The horrors of the old-world must be kept in check.”

            “Tell me,” I whispered. “Why did you risk yourself for a man you clearly despise?”

            “I just told you. My duty—my honor—demands I protect the weak.”

            “And you hate Ketsu simply because he is half-Hanthan?”

            I needed to know. Mazun was my first bladekeeper, and one of the first people I thought I could truly trust. But if he’s going to hate an entire race of people, and anyone who shares their blood, I needed to know about it now.

            For a long while, Mazun didn’t reply to my question.

            When he decided to answer, it was with less hate. He relaxed himself, sat straight, and loosened his grip on the blankets. In a calm tone, he said, “I was a bladekeeper who served the emperor. I fought on the border of the Hantha Imperium.”

            I nodded long with his words, attempting to picture a battlefield full of warriors and bladekeepers. It was difficult, however. I had never been to the border, nor had I seen the enemies so many spoke about.

            Perhaps Mazun knew this, because his tone turned curious. “Did you know that Hanthan people are filled with the blood of demons? It changes their appearance, and makes them monstrous. Demons need to eat humans to survive. Hanthans can eat humans, though it necessary.”

            “I wasn’t aware.”

            Mazun shook his head. “The Hanthan warriors on the front lines would often eat enemy combatants. It was lower the opposing army’s morale. It worked. The more of my warriors—and friends—consumed in the middle of the battlefield, the harder it was to focus.”

            I knew where this story was going.

            “Ketsu isn’t one of those Hanthan warriors,” I said.

            “That’s true, but…” Mazun sighed. “I went to the emperor and asked to stationed somewhere else. Somewhere far from the Hanthans and their barbarism. The emperor sent me to Garrain—and thus, to Ketsu. I came here to heal from the trauma of war, and somehow, I still have to look at the object of my nightmares. It’s… difficult.”

            He spoke the last word like it tasted bad.

            And to make matters worse, I hadn’t yet fully introduced him to Saiki. He hadn’t seen her human form. If Mazun had problems with Ketsu, I had a feeling a full-blown demon in the castle would be far worse.

            “When I asked you to be my bladekeeper, I didn’t know of this,” I said.

            Mazun turned so that he could stare up and meet my gaze. “Am I unsuitable now? Should I request to return the Ebon Capital?”

            “Whether you return to the emperor will be up to you, Mazun-rah. I will tell you this—if your duty includes dying to protect the people of this castle, it also includes making the same people feel safe. It’s only when they’re at ease that they can follow through with their own duties.”

            Mazun slowly nodded.

            “If you’re anxious around them, or irritable, then you aren’t really fulfilling your duty. You’re causing them distress. Ketsu was rude to you, but he will apologize. If you can’t move on from that—if you can’t find peace with your past traumas—then you should return to the emperor.”

            I didn’t want Mazun to leave, but if he couldn’t handle Ketsu, Ryota, and Saiki, then this wouldn’t work. And I didn’t want Mazun to suffer. If life on the frontlines haunted him, he should have time to heal.

            Shoki taught us that the scars left on someone’s life essence would taint them. Mazun needed the time to allow himself inner peace.

            “May I have a day to rest and think on it?” Mazun asked.

            “Of course. Until then, I’ll be improving this castle and the people.”

*六つの言葉*

            In order to further help the castle, I headed for the bathhouse.

            Perhaps it was foolish of me to continually help Yuna—a blind woman—when I could’ve been helping others, but she was one of the few people who helped me when I arrived. To her, I was a nobody. She helped me regardless, and asked for nothing in return. I saw her true self, the kindness she had for others, and once I found others had harmed her, I felt a certain sense of camaraderie.

            The girls at the Scarlet Lantern were often abused, but they still retained their honor and kindness. I felt Yuna exemplified this. She was almost family.

            Plus, it was beneficial to have another physician. This wasn’t just me being kind to her. There was a purpose—a greater purpose.

            When I stepped into the cool bathhouse, away from the heat of the two suns, I was greeted by the gurgle of running water.

            Yuna, like always, stepped out of her room and greeted me with a smile, her black hair spilling forward, covering half her face.

            “Good morning,” she said with a slight bow.

            “Good morning,” I replied.

            Yuna stood straight, her expression shifting to shock. She recognized my voice right away, it seemed.

            “Rimon-nox? You’ve returned?”

            I strode over and quickly reached for her hand. I gently placed one of the vials on her palm and closed her fingers around it. Yuna placed with the contained for a moment, feeling it until she came to the stopped.

            “What is this?” she whispered.

            “It’ll heal your eyes,” I replied.

            When she gasped, I almost smiled. I had been hoping she would be pleased.

            “You can do that?” Yuna shook her head. “But it’s not possible. It’s—”

            “I’m a Ring Warlock. Anything is possible for me.”

            Yuna shook her head harder. “That’s not—I mean, I’ve heard of that before. I-I thought Ring Warlocks had a set amount of magic. They didn’t just… create new magics. Or new powers. How’re you—”

            I squeezed her hand, and Yuna fell silent. With a forced smile, I said, “You don’t have to worry. I’m different than most Ring Warlocks. I have the power to—”

            “Make crops grow, heal people of permanent injuries, kill demons, and also enlist them to your side?” Yuna’s brow furrowed, her blank gaze falling to the floor. “It just seems too good to be true.”

            While I understood what she meant, it wasn’t quite like that. I was being clever with my power—doling out essence in exchange for favors. Just like how I’d give her this essence, and I’d hopefully have another physician.

            Was it good to think about people and spirit and demons in this manner? Almost transactional? I wasn’t certain. All I knew is that was how things were done in the Scarlet Lantern. For the right price, anything was possible.

            Finally, Yuna “looked” up at me. Her milky eyes didn’t really connect with mine, but I felt her stare, as though she was picturing me in her mind’s eye.

            “Rimon-nox,” she whispered, “what can I do for you?”

            “What?” I asked.

            Yuna exhaled. “You’ve done so much for me. Everything I’ve asked for, you’ve made happen. What can I do for you? How can I possibly repay your kindness? Your magic?”

            I had already told her—I wanted her loyalty. Her help. There wasn’t anything else.

            “Surely there’s something personal you want?” Yuna asked.

            I had already told her I didn’t need the reward of her flesh. Why was she so insistent?

            “If you can’t think of anything, I will think of something for you,” Yuna finally said. She held the vial close, and with both hands. “I’ll find something you want—something you didn’t even know you needed until you see it.”

            “That’s not necessary.”

            She shook her head. “I will. I promise you.” Yuna bowed deeply, her head practically touching me when she did so. “Thank you, my lord. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. A day won’t pass that I don’t ruminate on your generosity and strive to repay you.”

            That phrase…

            It was the Teachings of Shoki.

            He taught us that if you were ever in someone’s debt, that you should ruminate on it every day until the debt is repaid, that way it is never forgotten.

            Knowing she knew Shoki’s teachings caused me to smile wider.

            “I understand,” I said. “And I will forever strive to be the greatest Ring Warlock who has ever controlled Wist Castle.”