Traveler of the Void - Part 1 Chapter 1 - On the Hill of the Full Moon - Sangal Hasai

  Traveler of the Void

(Book 4 of the Guardian of the Spirit Series)

Author: Uehashi Nahoko

Translator: Ainikki the Archivist

 

Part 1 - City on the Sea

Chapter 1 - On the Hill of the Full Moon - Sangal Hasai

     Chagum felt the wind on his skin as light filtered into the oxcart. Someone lifted the blinds from the outside.

    "Excuse me, Crown Prince. We have arrived at Sangal Hasai." The guide's voice trembled slightly. He kept his eyes fixed downward so as not to gaze on the royal visage and spoke in a voice so quiet it was difficult to make out his words.

    From outside the cart, the sound of cloth flapping in the wind was audible. Chagum's servants were spreading out a carpet for him to walk upon. In the confined space of the cart, Chagum carefully stirred his stiff limbs to movement and prepared to take his first steps outside. If he was an ordinary person, he'd be permitted to trip over his numb feet and even stumble a little without worrying that his people would take it as a bad omen.

    The moment he straightened to his full height to take in the view outside the cart, he gasped reflexively. From where he stood to as far as his eyes could see was an endless expanse of ocean. Sangal Yasheera, the Moon Palace, was also in his sight line, nestled in the delta at the mouth of the Taiga River, rising like coral from a sea bed.

    "Is that...?" Chagum asked, feeling sincere admiration for the beauty of the scenery before him.

    The capital of Sangal had accumulated many poetic names over the years, chief among them the City of Coral and the Gem Floating on the Waves. Viewing the city from the top of the cape, the city resembled nothing so much as a series of interweaving multicolored coral branches. Chagum wondered what material the cape was made of, to make the construction of such a city possible. The ground of the cape was mostly peach in color, mingled with white streaks. The houses that he saw lined up along the shore were the same delicate white color as shellfish.

    Four enormous towers, one at each corner of the royal palace, were clearly visible from this height. Each was formed in the shape of a tipped spiral shell. The walls and roofs of the palace were made of shell ceramic tile, famous in Sangal for its beauty and durability. Sunlight reflected off the tile, making the entire palace glow with soft illumination.

    The deep blue waves of the ocean contrasted against the shimmering white of the palace and the buildings surrounding it, all set against the backdrop of the faintly peach-colored cliffs. It truly did seem like a city of coral that had risen from the sea.

    He noticed someone standing near him. Without looking his way, Chagum said, "It's beautiful. Isn't it, Shuga?"

    Shuga nodded. "It most certainly is." Shuga narrowed his eyes and looked up at the sky. "This is the best place possible to read the stars, right here. The sea breeze feels wonderful." 

    Chagum turned to face his counselor and teacher, the young Star Reader Shuga, and smiled.

    "You're the son of a fisherman, aren't you?" Chagum asked. "Do you remember your home when you look out at the sea?"

    Shuga's sternly serious face softened into a grin. "Yes...but the color of the sea is different where I'm from. Look at that! A city built around the base of the cliffs, near a riverbed. Crescents of white sand to the east and west, and the color of the sea near shore is a pale green. The sand in my home village is closer to gray than white, and the blue of the sea is much deeper there."

    Chagum's eyes tracked the features of the landscape that Shuga pointed out to him. It was indeed the first time he'd ever seen that semi-transparent turquoise color so close to the shore of the ocean.

    Chagum squinted, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face. "The sun is so bright here. The blue of the sky and the blue of the sea are different in New Yogo. I never thought that even things like that would be different in a country bordering ours." He paused. "The world is a magnificent place."

    "It certainly is."

    "...magnificent, but also huge. It took twelve days from our border to get here. Sangal's marine transport and marine products have definitely left an impression on me, and it seems the people cultivate fields, too."

    Shuga's smile deepened. His duties involving Prince Chagum had mainly concerned teaching, study, and research for the past three years. Every time he had the chance to observe the workings of Chagum's obviously keen mind, he became happy beyond words.

    I must make sure he is the next Mikado. I must protect him from anything that might make him stray from that path.

    The year before, the Third Queen had given birth to a precious son.

    Up until that point, Chagum had been the Mikado's only surviving son, a fact that had protected his status as Crown Prince. But as soon as the new prince had been born, the sentiment had spread that now, at least, if the eldest son were lost, there was a spare.

    The Mikado was a cold unfeeling man with no real feelings of paternal affection for his children. In his mind's eye, Shuga could easily hear the Mikado say something like, "Feelings of paternal affection are a useless quality in a Mikado." And if it were even suggested to the Mikado that he might behave in a way contrary to his character, the suggester might find themselves thrown out—or disinherited.

    And the Crown Prince had been disinherited once. His life had been threatened by secret plots to make him die of an illness or an accident—all orders given to the Mikado's Hunters, eight assassins that received commands from the Mikado in his Hidden Hall. Shuga remembered those times well, as did Chagum.

    Chagum had undergone the uniquely unprecedented experience of hosting the egg of a spirit from Nayugu in his body. When the Mikado had learned of this egg's existence inside his son, he had ordered him assassinated in order to protect the purity of his bloodline's reputation.

    Hounded by assassins and pursued by devouring spiritual beasts that desired to consume the egg within him, the eleven-year-old Chagum had been only narrowly rescued by Balsa, the female bodyguard and spear wielder. Balsa, along with her childhood friend the herbalist Tanda and Tanda's master, the magic weaver Torogai, had worked together to save the prince's life.

    Shuga had also received orders from the Mikado to cooperate on the matter of the assassination of Chagum. But, moved to protect the boy, he had ultimately switched allegiances.

    In any event, would-be murderer or not, the Mikado was still Chagum's father, and was legally considered as such. If his older brother Sagum had not passed away of a sudden illness, it was possible that the Mikado's assassins might be pursuing Chagum still. At the loss of his firstborn, the Mikado had made use of Chagum to fulfill his need for an heir.

    The Mikado is heartlessly cruel, living divorced from the feelings that bind a parent to a child...only thoughts of his position move his heart.

    Once, Shuga had been commanded by the Mikado to wrap Chagum head-to-toe in silk thread to prevent him from being corrupted by the nearness of those of the common class. From birth, the person that was to become the Mikado was treated as a living god. They were secluded in the innermost chambers of the palace and lived an existence in which they rarely so much as touched another person. Being raised in such a way, it was really no surprise that the hearts of the common people and the heart of the Mikado were so different.

    But through a strange whim of fate, Chagum had briefly escaped the confines of a future Mikado's upbringing. He had ventured out into the chaotic world and become familiar with how people other than himself lived their lives. More than that, he had formed strong emotional attachments to people that had changed him forever. Bright, kind Chagum, with a secret fire shining out from his soul—and his father, a cold spring hidden in the recesses of a mountain. They did not resemble one another at all.

    The Mikado's distinct lack of personal feelings toward Chagum had even made itself apparent in this current visit to Sangal. The only counselor sent with him had been Shuga. Aside from him, only common guards and lower retainers had accompanied Chagum on this journey.

    Of course, this wasn't really a diplomatic mission. Or it was, but not the sort of diplomatic mission that required any negotiation or contracts. Chagum was going to attend the coronation ceremony of the new King of Sangal...without the aid of so much as a single civil official familiar with the customs of foreign lands. When Shuga remembered the Mikado giving those orders, a chill went down his spine.

    They probably would not arrive at the capital city of Sangal proper until sunset. As soon as they arrived, Chagum's test would begin. He could not fail to properly represent New Yogo.

    Sangal was to the southwest of New Yogo. It was a large nation that included an expanse of open country and a vast archipelago of islands. As Chagum had said, it was a country that specialized in trade and marine products.

    Their two countries had never been at war. The ancestors of the people of New Yogo had fled the southern countries because of their hatred of war; the Mikado had always consistently promoted peace. But if the various countries to the south ever did dispatch troops to the north, Sangal was in a good position to give New Yogo advance warning of the threat. Better than attempting to weaken their position in war through crippling trade or isolating Sangal, it served everyone’s best interests to work together in a mutually beneficial alliance. New Yogo and Sangal had been trade partners long before the alliance had been proposed, and such an alliance seemed like the next logical step for relations between their two nations.

    At the start of the new year, invitations to the coronation celebration of the new king of Sangal had gone out to its allied nations. In Sangal, whenever the king's first son celebrated the birth of a second son, the crown passed from the current king to the king's first son. At the end of the previous year, twin sons had been born to Sangal's Crown Prince Karnan. The transfer of power from father to son would take place shortly after the start of the new year.

    The King of Sangal had come personally to New Yogo for the current Mikado's enthronement ceremony to deliver a kingly gift: a treasure chest inlaid with pearl and coral and filled with riches. He had also given the celebratory address at the ceremony.

    Now that it was time for a new King of Sangal to be crowned, it was reasonable to expect that the people of Sangal would want their courtesy to be returned in kind. But in New Yogo, the Mikado was considered the soul of the country; he could not possibly travel beyond its borders. That was why Chagum had been selected to attend the coronation in the Mikado's place.

    When this news was first announced, Chagum was secretly pleased. He would be able to leave the oppressive atmosphere of the palace to visit a foreign nation freely—if only for once in his life. Even if he had to take part in some complex or bothersome rituals, he didn't really care. He was sure he'd get time to relax and sight-see as well.

    "If a new king decided to get crowned among our allies every six months or so, I wouldn't mind," he said lightly.

    Shuga immediately reproved him. "Your Majesty. I'm sure I don't need to remind you that Sangal's royal family is deserving of your highest respect. At their core, their people are merchants; the country thrives on sea trade. The King of Sangal personally honored the Mikado with his attendance at his own enthronement ceremony and is acquainted with the measure of your father's character. Sangal is an important ally. If terms ever did break down between our two countries, it would be equally vital for us to retain dominance in diplomatic relations.

    "I have said that the people of Sangal are merchants at heart. This is true, but there is another side to them as well—especially the royal family. At the fringes of their domain, pirates govern their own contested territory with strength and violence. The blood of such fierce warriors also flows through Sangal's rulers. Your Majesty, you will be carrying the honor and integrity of this nation when you attend this coronation ceremony. Never forget it."

    Chagum snorted through his nose. "...I just wanted to experience what life was like in another place. That's all I said."

    Shuga glared at him reproachfully for his casual way of speaking. "As you say," he replied in a pinched tone.

    "All right, all right...it's so hard, but I'll talk the way you want me to. I understand that the royal family of New Yogo is supposed to be of divine lineage. Consequently, we must never sully ourselves with outside influences, or smell the smell of blood, and must live a life of tranquil harmony. Like a sword in a jeweled scabbard, capable of cutting, but intimidating all opponents to awe so that the sword need never be drawn."

    Shuga smiled at Chagum, then pulled his face into a deliberate frown.

    After this conversation, the next month passed with blinding speed. It took two weeks to plan for their departure. The journey itself took another twenty-two days. That journey would finally end in just a few hours.

    "Shuga! Look! The ships are gathering!"

    Dozens of huge vessels left white trails of froth in their wake as they sailed in the direction of Sangal Yasheera, the Moon Palace. Flags of many colors flapped in the wind. Streamers of colored paper scattered into the sea below the ships.

    "That is likely the main fleet of the king of Sangal, along with the ships of his closest allies," Shuga said.

    A great wave broke upwards from the surface of the ocean. The harsh cries of seagulls flying above the ships echoed toward shore. Chagum suddenly caught a strong whiff of the salt-smelling sea. His eyes watered; the odor attacked his senses as vigorously as a slap to the face. At that moment, more than the overwhelming power of the sea, he felt a deep sense of his own foreignness in this place.

    The ocean spread out before his eyes. Beyond this great expanse of sea that the people of Sangal named the Yaltash Ocean were the southern countries. Two hundred and fifty years ago, Chagum's ancestor, the Mikado Torugal, had fled the fires of war and lands washed in blood to travel across the sea, bringing with him the memories of a powerful culture, military might, and the combined strength of various nations.

    Chagum thought that he would have liked to grow up in a southern country, instead of the cold northern nation where he'd been born. As he gazed out at the same ocean Mikado Torugal had sailed across so long ago, a strange feeling overcame him.

    "Your Majesty?" Shuga asked. "Let's go."

Chagum nodded. The deep blue of the sea hurt his eyes, and he slowly turned his back on it.

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