Disclaimer-I will never own any of the characters mentioned in this story. They belong to Sunrise, Ocean Group, and all other companies affiliated with the show. I am not making any money for the posting of this fan fiction, nor should I receive any money for such reason.
Proud
Isabel Night (Lorelei Yeager)
Isabel Night (Lorelei Yeager)
The sound of drums pounded throughout the city. Their beat, blending with the monotone of chanted sutras, did not appease the fickle spirits who controlled the weather. For weeks these apparitions had allowed the black sun to hammer the land with sweltering temperatures. Some of the orange-clad monks, who were not busy chanting or playing the instruments, continued composing special prayers to placate these divine beings.
Outside the monasteries, the rhythm flowed through the air like hushed rumors. In the villages surrounding the countryside, chatty women fanning themselves added to the buzz. Their words, warning of an impending increase in the price of rice, caused many homemakers to shake their heads in dismay.
Inside the capital of the Nether Realm, the City of Desire, the throbbing made many residents think of a ticking clock. If there was a countdown to the beginning of hard times, government ministers were trying to delay it by preparing for the worst. At the head of this effort was a man with wavy white hair and a single good eye.
Kuroda Dais sat at his desk with several bound books, sighing as he went over the order forms for a large shipment. He was not used to doing paperwork. It wasn't because he didn't know basic math, but as a warrior, Dais was required to master different things; sitting down and doing what many considered to be a merchant's job was not one of them.
One of the city administrators would normally assist him with the negotiations and mathematical calculations; however, the aide had fainted from the heat while taking inventory inside an adjacent storeroom. After being rushed to the medical wing of the palace, one of the healers assured Dais that his subordinate would be fine with some water and a few days' rest. Now, alone and without help, the former Warlord of Illusion's patience wore thin.
"Let me see," Dais mumbled to himself, his eyebrow twitching slightly. "The Northern Prefecture is willing to barter large quantities of rice if we agree to send them a year's supply of wheat."
"Just perfect!" He ranted, running an irritated hand through his hair. "A stubborn daimyo who doesn't realize that a lack of rice also means a lack of wheat! How do they expect us to send them food when we can't even grow our own?"
Having enough, Dais slammed the book shut and threw it on the floor. If this weren't an emergency he would've laughed at the request.
Dais was in no mood to joke. In an attempt to calm down, the oldest of four Dark Warlords stood up and stalked out of the room. Heading down the wood and paper-framed hallway, Dais made his way through the antechamber, his head full of anger and anxiety.
Wandering through the main passages, Dais found himself on the third floor balcony. He had often come to this spot when he wasn't working, and when he felt overwhelmed, he would stand alone and try to take in the serene view of the golden lake and garden below.
Today, he could not.
Leaning on the railing with his hands gripping the top bar tight enough to turn his knuckles white, Dais tried again to quiet his mind. Closing his eyes, he listened to the sound of the water lap along the shoreline. When it yielded the same results, he decided to direct his thoughts elsewhere, like the city, with its wooden houses, open-air shops, and rustic aura. His mind then went to the residents, who, each spring, would stream into the castle gardens to laugh and dance under the cherry trees.
Sadly, this year's blossoms had already bloomed and fallen, replaced by the verdant foliage. Many other plants sported bright green leaves while some of the summer flowers flourished. Others wilted due to the lack of rain.
Autumn would arrive within the next month. By then, the garden would start to reveal its medley of red, orange, and yellow hues. This year's most likely color – like the decaying moss and fine branches weaving their way up the stone foundation – would be brown.
"I might as well—"
"Take a break?" Another voice interrupted. Its owner made his way towards the other man after stopping on the second-floor hallway. "You're starting to get the advisers worried."
"Sekhmet," Dais began, turning around to get a better view of his visitor. "What are you doing here?"
"One of the servants overheard you yelling and asked me to find out what was wrong."
"I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" Sekhmet pressed, hands on his hips. "He also claims to have heard something loud slam on the floor."
"That was one of the accounting books." Dais shrugged. "I probably shouldn't have thrown it, but the lists were making me angry."
"The inside of a book made you angry?" Sekhmet heaved a sigh. "Maybe you do need to step back and relax. You know how you get when you're upset."
"Thank you for the concern, Sekhmet. I'll be fine."
"Not when you're losing your temper at—"
"I said I'm fine!" Dais snapped at the serpent-eyed man. "Everyone's depending on me to have food by harvest time! If I don't, they'll starve!"
Sekhmet did not blink but pursed his lips together before clenching his fists. Underneath Dais's confident mask was a passionate personality. Added to that volatile mix was a fierce and dangerous possessive streak.
"I know you're aggravated," Sekhmet answered, trying not to sound offended. "If I were heading the effort, I would be too. However, getting nasty with me isn't going to help. Our people need strength, and when you agreed to do this you also agreed to put your temper aside."
"Then you do it!" Dais yelled, not in the mood for a lecture.
Sekhmet's patience snapped. "I will not! You chose this assignment, and now you're going to see it to the end!" Biting his lower lip so he wouldn't break his gaze in what was becoming a duel of wits, Sekhmet got to the point. "Are you a coward?"
"Is that a challenge?"
"Yes! A true samurai makes a promise and keeps it! If our roles were switched, you would say the same thing!"
Dais was about to counter the verbal equivalent of a slap to the face, but stopped short. Part of his brain, the one he had pushed back until after taking the job, knew that the other man was right. Even if Sekhmet and Cale didn't hold him to this, the city's residents would. "I'm sorry," Dais mumbled, ashamed. "I didn't mean to snap at you."
Sekhmet nodded, not wanting to dwell on the outburst. After a few seconds of awkward silence, a low hiss escaped. "So, if I may ask, what were you annoyed at?"
"The Northern Province is willing to barter rice if we send them a year's supply of wheat."
"How do they expect us to give them food if we can't grow it ourselves?"
"That's what I was thinking," Dais agreed. "Yet they've refused to budge on the issue."
"I see. You know," Sekhmet continued, closing his eyes and shaking his head as if images were being pushed to the front of his mind. "If Talpa were still alive, he would have crushed—"
"Yes," Dais settled. "But it's different now. There were four of us back then, and we didn't have to worry about..."
He paused and blinked rapidly. The previous year had been a time of great prosperity, but a mad desire for conquest had driven their demon lord and master to declare war on the human world.
At first, things had gone their way. Then their enemies, a brash group known as the Ronin Warriors, had decided to play dirty by kidnapping Anubis and bringing him to their side. What followed soon became irrelevant as their Warlord of Cruelty had died trying to free Lady Kayura from Talpa's power.
"Do you think Anubis would be proud of us?" Dais broke the silence, trying to clear the mental cobwebs.
Sekhmet averted his eyes. "You know I can't answer that."
"You can't? Or you don't want to?"
"Who's to say? I've done things that I'm not proud of, but when we sided with the Ronin Warriors—"
"So you don't feel ashamed?"
There was a brief pause. "Sometimes," the younger man, now single-minded, admitted. "To be honest, I try not to think about it. Feeling sorry for myself won't bring Anubis back."
Dais's mind agreed. His heart was another matter.
"Look," Sekhmet pointed out, steering the conversation back to the present. "Even if Anubis isn't here, I think he would approve of the changes in our personalities."
"He would?"
"Yes. We used to be self-centered, egotistical idiots, and now we're worried about people we've never even met. A year ago, we wouldn't have bothered to do such a thing. How else can you explain our actions?"
"So that means—"
"Anubis's dying wish came true."
Dais smiled. If that horrible day had been good for something, it would mean that their leader was at rest, successful in doing his duty. "I need to get back to work."
"Don't you want to stay and talk?"
"I've still got that shipment to finalize."
Sekhmet nodded in approval. "Now you're doing your duty."
"Thanks." Dais grinned, giving the other man a friendly slap on the back and leading him off the veranda and back to the workroom.
---
Several miles outside the city, a translucent figure stood in the middle of a dirt road looking up at the sky. His face and identity, kept hidden by a large straw hat, helped him blend in with those who worked the land. As long as no one saw him, he could go about his task.
Satisfied that no one was paying attention, the ghost pushed stray strands of red-brown hair behind his ears, lifted his palms over his head, and whispered a special prayer. Above him, dark clouds spread thick and wide.
A few feet away, a farmer working in his dried up rice paddy felt the first droplet splash on his tunic. Surprised by the wetness, the man stood up and took off his hat. When he did, another drop landed on his face. As the rain started coming down in steady sheets, the overjoyed farmer left his work and ran back to his village. In his haste, he failed to see his blue-and-white clad benefactor walk in the opposite direction.
THE END
End Notes-A huge thank you to all my Beta Readers! Without your help, this story would have never left the ground.
