Leavetaking 2
AsaHi had seen this all happen before. Three men who wore the robes bearing the colors of the Manor approached her house. They were armed and frightening. They walked with a purpose and didn’t flinch from following their orders.
The first time they came to take her son away. The event shattered her life, leaving their family struggling to pick up the pieces and rebuild. Some pieces got lost in the middle of it, and there were still holes left where the Manor pierced clean through. Some of these holes were in hearts, leaving large festering gashes that only got worse as time went by.
While AsaHi maintained a good relationship with her son, she watched him become colder as he grew older. More stern and more unforgiving. All of that bitterness was aimed at his father, whom he blamed for the inability to right the wrongs of the world.
She was guilty of doing much the same. Things were never the same between her and SoYa after Fu was taken. He became more distant, whether it was due to his battles with the Manor from the inside, or just the dragging weight that left him exhausted and silent at night.
AsaHi was frustrated that he spent more time working on his translations and books than he did trying to hold the family together. She tried everything she could think of – giving him his space, showing interest in his projects, displaying her concern in hopes he’d take the hint and communicate with her. But nothing seemed to reach him.
Now she was alone. Watching the three figures walk through the gate to her house, wondering what part of her life they were going to destroy next.
AsaHi set aside all of these things, drying her hands on the towel before walking to the door to meet them. Much to her surprise, as they came closer, she realized the Manorite in the back was nothing hardly more than a boy. All of her mothering instincts shivered within her.
They’re sending him out here, with warriors, and armed with a weapon? What kind of things are they teaching children in the Manor?
She forced the feelings down and put on her most hospitable face, “Good afternoon, gentleman. Is there something I can do for you?”
They finally stopped approaching once they were on her porch. But they stood far too close, pressuring her to back away from the door.
AsaHi didn’t budge.
“Good afternoon, Lady AsaHi,” one of the men replied. It was obvious that he was taking note of her stubbornness. “Are you the only one here today?”
She wasn’t sure if she should answer honestly, but there was really only one answer she could give, “Yes, it’s just me. Why?”
“We are looking for your husband. SoYa. Is he here?”
AsaHi furrowed her brow, “I just said I was alone.”
“Can we come inside?” he said, already moving forward before she could answer.
She pursed her lips together but allowed them to pass through, “Is something wrong?”
They didn’t answer, only scanning the room with sharp, ruthless eyes. Looking for signs of something. Looking for SoYa.
Finally one asked, “When was the last time you saw SoYa?”
AsaHi rubbed her face, thinking, “He’s been so busy lately. It was… two days ago, I think.”
She saw no response to her information.
“Is he okay? Did something happen?” she pressed.
“Have you noticed anything unusual about his behavior lately?”
AsaHi shook her head, “Nothing more than usual. He’s often away working on his studies and running classes at the Manor.”
The next question caught her off guard, “What do you know about Anarchy?”
“Anarchy?” she repeated. She wasn’t sure where this was going or what kind of answer they were looking for. “I don’t know. Not a lot. They’re a resistance group against the Manor. They write a newsletter… but I’ve never really seen one. SoYa doesn’t tell me much about the city politics and I don’t visit the school all that much.”
Something about the weight of their eyes made her uneasy. AsaHi glanced back over her shoulder, a little comforted that she had left the windows in the back room open.
What are you thinking of doing? Running away if they try something? For what? You can’t run from the Manor, AsaHi.
She tried to reason, “I don’t know what this is all about, but if you need my cooperation, or SoYa’s cooperation, I’m sure we can arrange for something. Just--”
“Cooperation?” the boy in the back curled his nose. “It’s a little late for that.”
The other two warriors turned to look at their younger companion. The boy gave a sheepish blink and closed his mouth with a click. But that was enough for AsaHi to confirm her worries – there was trouble of some sort. And it had to do with SoYa.
The Manorites were quick to respond. One man reached for her, face grim as he spoke, “Lady AsaHi. I’m going to have to ask you to come with me.”
“Where?” she took a surprised step back.
“We need to relocate you to the city for now. Just until we can get a few things cleared up,” he responded.
“Relocate? Like you did my son?” AsaHi’s brows lowered and she dug her heels in.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not familiar with the circumstances surrounding your son,” the warrior took hold of her wrist firmly.
She jerked back, but found him to be far stronger than he looked. This made her resist all the more, “I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me exactly what’s going on!”
He didn’t say anything to her. He simply turned to his companion and nodded grimly.
The second warrior stepped forward, shaking out what looked like a cloth sack. Then, AsaHi realized it was a hood. A hood meant for her.
Sudden instinct rushed through her body. AsaHi yanked back away from her captor before slamming her foot hard on the top of his boot. If he was in any pain, he didn’t show it. His grip merely tightened and he wrestled to grab her other wrist.
She shouted words of protest, face turning to plead with the boy who stood watching the scene. She could see the slightest hint of fear trickling over his face. As tough as he tried to appear, it was obvious that he was shaken by the sight of warriors capturing an unarmed woman civilian.
Though AsaHi writhed and squirmed and shook her head, the darkness of the hood fell across her vision. It smelled of must and body odor, obviously having been used more often than she wanted to accept. She could feel them tightening the rope around her neck.
And then it went slack.
Surprised, she found her arms free. Instantly, AsaHi yanked at the rope and threw the hood off of her head. What she saw on the other side was equally as shocking.
Two figures dressed in black now stood in the middle of the room, facing the Manor warriors. One of them, displaying very feminine curves, had come from the open window behind her. The other stood in the doorway, face and body obscured by dark clothes and a hood, hands up and palms wide open. Magic pulsed around him, focused on the two warriors.
The Manor boy drew his weapon, holding it low in both hands, face challenging. The girl in black slowly ringed around the Manorites, her daggers glittered menacingly.
AsaHi stumbled away, finding her back to the kitchen cupboard. She reached back and grabbed the largest carving knife she owned, holding it in front of her with a determined fist.
“Leave the fighting to us,” the girl said, her voice muffled under the black cloth mask that obscured her face.
“This is my home!” AsaHi protested.
“It was… it’s not anymore.”
“What?”
The girl didn’t answer. Instead, she darted to the side as one of the Manor warriors drew his weapon and leapt for her. His voice was harsh as he demanded, “Where is your leader?”
Without hesitation, the girl spun under his swing, appearing behind the warrior. With a spry twist in mid-air, she launched and landed on his back, one arm wrapped around his neck. AsaHi gasped as the girl kicked backwards, using her weight to flip the warrior over her shoulders and right into the dining table. The table shuddered as the contents scattered, glass broke and papers flew in the open-window breeze.
“Watch out!” AsaHi shouted, rushing forward to intercept the second warrior, who was bearing down on the girl’s back, sword drawn.
“AsaHi!” the girl flipped around, but not quickly enough to retaliate.
AsaHi brought her kitchen knife up, as if that was any protection against a full length sword. The warrior’s eyes met hers, unmoved. He didn’t deviate the path of his swing. Didn’t flinch at the thought of what he was about to do.
Then he stumbled.
A different expression, something AsaHi could only describe as blankness, washed across his face. He choked as his hand opened, the blade dropping from his hand. The sound of metal hitting the floor reverberated through her senses. The warrior then toppled, dropping to his knees. His hands shot up to clutch at his throat, struggling against something she couldn’t see. Fighting to breathe.
Her hands shook where she still gripped the knife. She could only stand and stare as his face turned red. He finally fell limp, passing out on the floor.
She heard a second heavy thud, and looked up to see that the Manorite boy, too, had collapsed.
Then the dark figure standing in the doorway came into focus. She could see his hands outstretched, magic flowing around him in breathtaking awe. AsaHi could sense the magnitude of the power, even though she was not a magic-user herself. There was unflinching control, intense focus and terrible domination, so much that she found herself backing away.
The warriors were one sort of threat. But this magic user was truly dangerous.
“AsaHi,” the girl’s voice came from behind. A dark-gloved hand alighted on her wrist, coaxing her to lower the kitchen knife. “It’s okay now. You’re safe. They’re gonna be out for a few hours.”
“Grab everything you can carry. We have to leave,” the man in the doorway nodded. His muffled voice sounded tired.
“Leave? Leave where?” AsaHi allowed herself to be gently disarmed. She couldn’t hide the anxious sound in her voice. “Why is going with you any better than going with them?”
The man gave a long sigh, then slowly reached up and pulled off his hooded mask.
AsaHi’s knees grew weak as her eyes widened, “SoYa?”