The Turk Files
File 1 ~ Tseng
while dreaming
of peace
storms come with softly
harsh winds
destinies must change
Part 1
The Monastery of Kami-te, Fourth Aspect, She known only as War to the uninitiated, Wutai
The southern region of
Wutai was still fertile, even after the destruction of the protracted
war with the Shin-Ra Corporation, a war in which Wutai had come a
painful second. Tseng sat back on his heels, not bothering to wipe
dark soil from his hands as he enjoyed the breeze on his bare chest
and face. He smiled, for the breeze brought with it a sharp tang, and
yet a gentle warmth; the promise of light spring rains.
Early,
he thought, smiling his thanks to the young initiate who handed him a
ladle of water from a cane bucket. The nectarines, of course, were
late-season flowerers, but even the early plums, their branches
gnarled with age, had not yet budded.
This time of year was
definitely verging on his favourite, given a couple of weeks and a
slightly warmer temperature. Once the buds appeared and the bees
started humming around the fruit blossoms, the days went by in
meaningful routine, made ever more pleasant by the thrum of life. The
onset of winter, on the other hand, simply made Tseng sad. Death may
have been his business; his religious life, and that of his Order;
but it was not his love. His heart beat for a warmer time of year.
The monastery garden, full
of elderly fruit trees and willows bent by time, wind and sun over
fish ponds crossed by bamboo bridges edged with oak and cedar, had
always been a place of peace to him, even as he learned the Arts of
Kami-te, Goddess of War and the Fourth Aspect of the Five Gods.
Despite being a city boy by birth, "meaningful routine"
suited Tseng just fine. Yet, occasionally, he could not shake the
niggling sensation that something was missing.
He didn't think of that
often, though. Mostly, he followed his routine: work, training and
meditation, strictly formal and carefully familiar. It was a great
blessing to live without doubt.
Speaking of meditation...
Tseng didn't need to hear the soft gong of the mid-afternoon bell to
know it was time to go to the dojo to do just that. He'd been a part
of the Order since he was five years old. He could continue the daily
routine in a soundproofed dark room with no idea what time it was. He
smiled briefly. Not that he would enjoy that, at all. He was not fond
of the dark. It was silliness, he knew, and he had spent many nights
working on his fear; meditating on it and looking to subject it to
his own will and that of Kami-te's; but he had never been able to
fully banish it.
Perhaps, today, he would
be able to fathom why. Or, perhaps not. It was of no matter. It had
never affected him so badly that he had not been able to complete
jobs for the Order, during and after the War. He could do without the
bother, however. Energy spent dealing with fear--minor though it
was--could then be used elsewhere.
Either way, there was no
rush. Now that the war with Shin-Ra was done, Tseng imagined that
missions outside the monastery would be few and far between. He would
not be needed for anything other than heavy lifting, some gardening
and to teach the initiates in the dojo.
At least, in theory. Tseng
was not so naïve as to believe that Shin-Ra's alleged victory
spelled the end of the uncertainty, and Jorani, the Head of his
Order, was not known for her ability to stay out of politics. Not
that Tseng was prepared to crticise her for that, even privately. It
was, after all, a large part of her role within Wutai society, to be
quietly, secretly political. Shin-Ra would not--could not--change
that, no matter what dispensations Godo had delivered. What
those were, Tseng had no idea; he was not high
enough to know. He did not dwell on this, however. Curiosity was not
in his nature, and he had always known he was not built for
leadership. He simply did what he was told, when he was told to do
it, and felt no rancour at the concept. It made life easier.
It did. Resentment was a
waste of time.
Something... he paused in
the act of washing his hands at one of the outside washbasins,
before continuing what he was doing. There it was again... Tseng
could never catch whoever it was at it, but he knew. He'd been in the
business of Death long enough to know when he was being watched.
Whoever it was, they were
good. He flicked his hands of excess water, irritated. If this was a
training exercise, it was hardly necessary. And if it wasn't... well,
that was something he wasn't going to tolerate further. Two hours of
pretending he couldn't feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise in
warning was enough.
Of course, if it was an
exercise, he may very well have failed it, he thought ruefully. He
didn't think it was, though. It was probably just Niate, trying to
get a rise out of him. He'd never understood why his parents had sent
her to the Order when they'd already given him; it made no sense. He
smiled, then. She was still an Initiate, barely sixteen years old,
and she did like to take advantage of their familial relationship to
tease him, knowing that there would be no repercussions.
Hm. That would have to
change. She wasn't taking her training seriously, and if she didn't
start doing so, there would come a time when her nonchalance would
get her--or someone else--killed.
Either way, he tired of
the game. Cupping his hands under the flowtap at the basin, he filled
them with water, splashing his face, then turned to where he thought
the person would be standing, fully expecting to see Niate's teasing
face, her tongue stuck out at him.
Instead, he met a pair of
deep, startlingly green eyes. Jade green, in a world of brown, dark
brown and ebony.
Wait. I know
you...
No. No, he didn't. And
yet, the air was very still, so Tseng stood quietly, watching;
waiting for the moment to pass.
It was only then that he
realised that it never would.
"Tseng."
Tseng opened his eyes,
recognising Jorani's voice. She was
probably there to chide him for being out of his bed past the time he
should have been in it. He suppressed a sigh--he did not want to
explain that he could not, yet again, sleep. He raised himself up
from his knees, carefully placing his incense in a holder in front of
the Da-Chao Statue intended to represent Kami-te.
He bowed to her.
"Jorani-te-ko," he said, formally. It was only then that
Tseng noticed that she wasn't alone. She had with her a man, of a
height with Tseng, dressed in the same robes Tseng was wearing. He
was not someone Tseng knew. Except... he felt his spine tingle, knowingly. Tseng said nothing, however, instead waiting for the
Head to speak.
"You have been
without a Soul Kin since the death of Shun. It has been too long. I
have come to remedy this."
Tseng inclined his head,
keeping his face carefully neutral. Jorani had made it very, very
clear that she blamed Tseng for Shun's death, and he had presumed the
long months without a Spirit Mentor had been intentional... that he,
simply, did not deserve another.
Tseng knew her blame of
him was not fair, but he could not fault her for it. She only had his
word that he had not intended to get her brother killed. Shun had
been the last family left to her after the war. Tseng knew that he
could not possibly grieve Shun more than she did, and yet, it was so.
Perhaps he did blame
himself, somewhat.
He pushed all thoughts of
Shun out of his mind, for now, and concentrated on the young
man--they were of an age--in front of him. The man who would be his
new partner, in matters spiritual and practical. The man who he would
need to trust; to learn to trust; with his life, and his secrets. The
man who would have to trust him, from that moment
until the day one of them died.
The man with the jade
green eyes.
The man with the jade
green eyes who was talking to him, now. Once
again, Tseng had to force himself to pay attention, but he missed the
greeting.
"--has come to us
recently from the field of silent battle," Jorani was saying.
"He is also in need of a new Spirit Mentor, and shall not be...
in danger... from one such as you."
Tseng allowed himself a
frown. Danger? Could she really think that of him?
The man's eyes watched him
steadily. "Perhaps... tea?" His voice was low, quiet... a
balm on the ragged wound of knowing the worst of one's own faults. He
turned and bowed lightly to Jorani. "Many thanks, Jorani-te-ko,"
he said. Tseng noted that, while the man's farewell was, strictly
speaking, formally correct, it was a clear dismissal. And the lighter
bow showed more than an ounce of contempt, although it was done subtly enough that Jorani appeared not to notice.
Tseng could not help but
wonder how a simple monk, such as he, could be so... superior... to
his Head. What was his name? What had Jorani said? Keiichi. That was
it.
Keiichi turned to Tseng,
his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Now, with that
noise taken care of, shall we?"
"It is very late,
Keiichi. I would be happy to wait until the morning, if you would
like." Tseng found himself savouring the name. Kei-i-chi.
"Not at all."
Tseng smiled, carefully.
"Then I hope you will allow me..."
"Of course."
Tseng led Keiichi away
from the Da-Chao, through the practice dojo and along the path that
lay adjacent to the fields. The night had fallen damply, bringing
with it a green, mossy scent. The first Spring crickets were starting
their calls, and they sang in concert with the crunch of gravel as he
and Keiichi walked down the path to the tea rooms.
There was always boiling
water available, so it did not take Tseng long to make them a small
pot of light, almost tasteless tea.
Tseng put the pot and two
small cups on a low table and invited Keiichi to kneel on one side of
the table, as he took the other. Then... he didn't know what to say.
What is wrong with you? He
didn't answer himself, of course. Instead, he sat quietly, inhaling
the sweet, gentle aroma from the tea.
Keiichi took a mouthful
and nodded appreciatively. "Tell me of yourself." His voice
carried with it a subtle aura of command, and yet, Tseng knew that
answering the question was entirely optional.
He wanted to, though, even
though, "there's not much to say. I am very unimportant here,
and have led an uneventful life."
"I am sure that there
is a lot more than you think. Many would say that the missions you
completed during the war count as 'eventful'."
Tseng steadied his mind,
determined not to give in to this... thing... that he did not
understand. "No more than any of the others here, like me. I am,
simply, who I am; no different from you, I suspect."
"'We are none of us
the same, and yet, all alike'."
"That is so."
"It is the part of
you that is not the same I am interested in."
Interested
in? Tseng was momentarily confused. No, that was not what
Keiichi meant. As Tseng's new Spirit Mentor, the other man simply
needed something to work with. Tseng supposed it went both ways. Yet,
he could not think of a single thing to say; a single thing that he
could imagine Keiichi would be remotely interested in.
Keiichi's gaze was steady.
"Perhaps it will be easier if I go first?"
Tseng nodded, relieved. "I
would very much like to hear of you." Very much?
Improper. Calm yourself.
"I was a warrior in
the Wutai conflict, just as you were. We have more in common there,
than not."
Tseng sipped his tea,
frowning momentarily. "It occurs to me to wonder why we have not
met before."
Keiichi smiled. "Does
it?"
"Of course it does.
We are of the same Order. I know everyone here. Yet, I have never
seen you before. Why is that?"
Keiichi stayed silent, an eyebrow raised.
"You are not going to
answer me, are you." It wasn't really a question.
"Perhaps I will. It
just remains for you to ask the right questions, Tseng."
It was the first time
Keiichi said Tseng's name, and it reverberated through Tseng like a
wind through bamboo. He sighed, lightly. Clearly, questioning further
at this time would do him no good. "What of us differs, then,
Keiichi?"
Keiichi watched Tseng for
some moments, his face thoughtful. "Only those things... those
moments... we hide in the dark," he finally said.
Tseng snorted.
"You disagree?"
Tseng blinked. "I
apologise, Askaya. That was rude of me."
Keiichi shook his head.
"It is of no consequence. What is it?"
"It is simply..."
Tseng paused, unsure of how to proceed. "I do not trust in the
dark. It... bothers me."
"Why is that?"
"I do not know."
Tseng dropped his gaze, ashamed. "Perhaps it is only that I fear
to die."
"You do not strike me
as a man who is afraid of something as insignificant as death."
"Isn't that the basis
of all fear?"
Keiichi inclined his head
thoughtfully. "Perhaps. Some, I feel, fear to live."
Tseng considered that,
carefully, for a moment. "I do not feel that is the case."
"Do you not?"
Keiichi leaned forward slightly, his face intent. "Are you safe
here?"
Tseng didn't understand
where Keiichi was leading him with the question, but he decided to
follow. "As safe as I can be, given anyone's life, I suppose."
Keiichi's eyes glinted,
like Tseng had walked into some sort of a trap. "Ah. But is your
safety your most important priority?"
"I have risked death,
greeted death, many times."
"That is not an
answer."
Tseng lifted his chin,
indignant. "If I am called to serve by my death, I will go."
"As I said. You are
not a man who fears that end. But if you are called to live, will you
do that also?"
Tseng frowned. "I
already live. My life is devoted to Her."
"You are happy here?"
"I... am." It
was only a small hesitation, but Tseng knew Keiichi heard it by the
way his eyes narrowed.
"There. You follow.
You do not live."
"I live. We are
called to follow."
"We are called to
embrace all life, including the Night. If we cannot do that, then we
do not live."
The Night. He meant the
Second Aspect of the Five Gods, of course. Nothing to do with them. Tseng shook his head
slowly, his irritation growing. "I am not sure I understand,"
he said as patiently as he was able. He did not like not
understanding. Why was this man being so cryptic? What purpose did it
serve? None, at all, as far as Tseng could tell. "What amuses
you?" This said with less patience as Keiichi smiled broadly.
"When you are annoyed
you suck on your back teeth."
"I do not,"
Tseng snapped back without thinking, before he—oh.
He did do that.
Keiichi's amusement
travelled to his eyes, lighting up his face as he leaned back onto
his heels. He did not reply. There was, apparently, no need.
To his shame, Tseng felt a
further surge of annoyance before he willed it gone. He inclined his
head with a smile, acknowledging his fault. "So, this, then, is
my task? Learning patience?"
"Apparently so."
"What, then, is
yours?"
Keiichi did not answer for
such a long moment that it made Tseng feel like the timing was
calculated. "Who convinced you that you were not fit to lead?"
The question was so
unexpected that Tseng blinked, unsure what to say.
"You, in all
likelihood, will sort out your own patience without any assistance
from me." Keiichi unfolded his legs, stood and donned his kimono
in one smooth movement. "I have enjoyed our talk today, Tseng. I
will see you at the same time tomorrow." He bowed, then left.
Tseng did not watch him
go, instead staring at the teacups in front of him, perplexed that
his question had not been answered. And yet... yet. Beyond any
seeming capability of his own to control it, Tseng wanted to know
more of this man.
Perhaps curiosity
was in his nature, after all.
