Fate’s Pawn

The day wore on like that, with several short naps that ended when he woke ravenously hungry. Dietrich supplied him with ample food and checked on his hand. He went through a short ritual with him in the evening to recharge whatever spell was healing Raziel's hand and told him that the process was going well.

Despite sleeping for most of the day Raziel wasn't able to keep himself awake for long. After his second dinner he tried very hard to join in a board game that the others were playing. They made him go back to bed when he nodded off and almost fell face-first onto the board.

He woke in darkness and thought that he was in his own room before he remembered what had happened. He felt hungry, though not the stomach-clenching hunger of the previous times he'd awoken. Something else had pulled him out of sleep.

Just as he was about to drift off again, he heard a noise, a soft tapping on the glass of the window above his bed. A face with silver grey eyes was looking down at him through softly curling white hair. He jerked upright and saw nothing in the window but sky and pale moonlight. He looked around the room, wondering briefly if he had imagined the face. It had seemed familiar, but he couldn't place it. Miles, Roland, Hoeru, and Keira all slept soundly. Still, he moved as quietly as he could to take a look out the window.

He expected to see nothing but a small patio with a couple of uncomfortable chairs and a stone table. He did not expect there to be a short figure in a brown, threadbare hooded cloak standing there, looking at his window. It took a great deal of self control for him not to make a sound.

He could feel the gaze of whatever was beneath the cloak, feel its eyes locked with his own. Its cloak moved in soft fluttering rolls in the wind. Then the figure reached up to lower the hood with small, four-digited hands that were the greenish-yellow color of apple flesh. It was definitely not the curly haired person he'd thought he'd seen. The extremely angular face that it revealed had enormous emerald green eyes and an oddly small mouth. In the place of hair, it had blades of grass waving gently in the breeze. It was a face of utter innocence. It was the spirit from the fort. It had come here to see him.

Raziel considered weighing his options, but before he'd really even begun, he found that he was getting slowly and carefully out of bed, praying that the bed would not squeak. He didn't bother with shoes, but he hadn't taken his shirt or pants off since Keira was in the room. He padded to the door, thankful that she snored a little, covering his escape.

Outside he heard the sigh of the wind, a constant in Peritura, and carried on it the sounds of laughter and shouting from rowdier parts of the city. It was a bright night, lit mainly by the white moon. The stone floor was cold against his bare feet.

He kept a close watch on the figure as he took slow steps out into the moonlight. It never moved. Raziel stayed ready to bolt for the door right up until he was a few feet away from it. By that point, he was pretty sure that he wouldn't be able to make it back inside if the spirit tried to grab him or something. Still he wasn't afraid of the creature. He didn't know why. He just couldn't bring himself to be afraid of something that was more than a head shorter than he was.

If anything, the creature looked afraid of him. As Raziel took slow, hesitant steps towards it, its posture shifted, readying itself to bolt. There was uncertainty in its enormous green eyes, but curiosity as well. Raziel wasn't sure what to do.

"So, I'm out here. Is there... I don't know. Is there something you wanted?"

The spirit flinched as he spoke but didn't leave. It seemed to understand him. Or at least Raziel thought it did. It reached, hesitantly into its cloak and removed a sheet of paper. It stood there, holding the paper with delicate fingers and shielding the page from the wind as though it might crumble and turn to dust at any but the lightest touch. There was writing or drawing on both sides of the picture, but Raziel was at the wrong angle to see any of it, and he was afraid he might scare the spirit away if he moved to get a better look. The spirit looked from the picture then back to Raziel and back to the picture. Then it turned it around so that Raziel could see, and his heart nearly stopped in his chest.

The picture showed his father standing behind his mother with his arms draped around her. She in turn had her arms folded over Raziel's chest. It was a picture that had been in his father's book.

Raziel didn't notice his legs giving out until his knees hit the ground. That picture had been in his father's book. There was no way the spirit could have it. Unless...

Unless the book hadn't been destroyed.

Raziel tried to speak but the words wouldn't come. He reached out with trembling hands to take the picture and the little spirit let it slip from its fingers. Raziel stared at the picture, going over every line. It couldn't be real. But it was. Tears welled in his eyes, and before he realized it, one fell towards the page.

The spirit's hand reached out and caught the tear before it could land. It gave him a reproachful look. Raziel wiped his eyes on his arm.

"Yeah. Thanks," he said.

The spirit nodded. It was closer now and seemed to have lost some of its skittishness. It reached out and touched the picture of Raziel. Then it pointed at Raziel himself and tilted its head slightly.

"Kusa?" it said, the rising tone implying a question. Raziel thought he understood.

"Yes, that's me. This is my mother. And this is my father. I think you met him. Do you remember him?"

"Kusa," it said again, nodding this time. Its voice was high pitched, childlike. Raziel was trembling with excitement. He had to tell himself to stay calm for fear of scaring the spirit away.

"He had a book. I lost it at your fort. In the circle under the tower. Did this page come from that book?" He had to work hard to keep calm as he asked. His whole world hung on the spirit's answer.

"Kusa." Another nod. Relief washed over Raziel. He closed his eyes and focused on breathing. He wanted to dance. He would dance he decided. But later.

"That book is more important to me than anything else in the world. Will you bring it to me?"

The spirit looked reluctant. It pointed at Raziel and then to itself. It pointed at the page in his hand and then out towards the forest. Raziel was pretty sure it was pointing at the fort.

"You... want me to come get it?"

It nodded. Raziel frowned. It could be months before he could go get the book. What if it changed its mind in that time? What if something happened to it or the fort? There had to be another way. Raziel thought furiously about what his dad had written about the spirit, hoping for some clue about how to convince it to bring the book to him, but there just hadn't been much there.

Then he remembered what he'd seen in Kusa's room, the books that were so well taken care of and cared for.

"Can you wait here for just a minute?" Raziel said, pointing to the ground. The spirit looked skeptical, but Raziel was already backing away, too excited to not try his plan. "It'll just take a second. Don't go anywhere."

Raziel dashed inside, trying his best to be quiet as he went. He went back into the room he and the others shared and looked around frantically, praying that it wouldn't leave before he could get back.

Miles had a pile of books on his nightstand. He moved as quickly as he dared towards the table and took the top three books. He had to force himself not to run back to the door, sure that it would be gone when he came back, but it still stood there, looking confused and anxious.

He made himself slow down, afraid now of scaring the little creature off by being too enthusiastic. He held the books behind his back wanting to surprise it. Once he was close he knelt again, and when the creature gave him a questioning look, he held the book out to it.

"I'll give you these three books if you'll bring me mine."

Its eyes went wide and its little mouth dropped open, childlike in its shock and awe. It took a step back and put its hands up, but after a moment it reached out to touch the spines of the books.

"Kusa," it said again and shook its head weakly.

"Please. I don't know when I'll be able to come to your fort. I need that book." Raziel gently pressed the books into the spirit's hands and let go. Kusa had to hold onto them or let them drop to the ground.

It held the books gingerly, like a baby. It looked to Raziel, then down at the books again and ran a hand over the topmost cover. Raziel was surprised to see tears welling up in its eyes. Ever so carefully, it placed the books somewhere inside its cloak. The moment it let go, it leapt forward and threw its arms around Raziel in a fierce hug.

"Kusa," it said, voice thick with emotion. Raziel was surprised, and his broken arm was caught between them, though he returned the hug with his good arm. It was a brief hug, and only a moment later the creature was pacing around in front of him.

"Kusa, ku, ku. Saaaaa. Kusa," it muttered, repeating the two syllables over and over again. It ran its little hands through its hair in frustration before looking at Raziel and suddenly stopping, staring at his hand in its cast.

Kusa leapt over to him, grabbing the cast and examining it. Kusa looked up at him and mimed punching something and then cradled its hand as though it was hurt. Raziel, only somewhat sure he understood, nodded.

A spark blazed in the little spirit's eyes, and it took solid hold of the cast. It raised a hand to its head and plucked a blade of grass. Kusa touched the tip of the blade of grass to its thumb and a sudden drop of emerald blood appeared there. The little spirit replaced its blade back amongst the other blades of grass on its head. Raziel wondered how it stayed attached.

"What are you doing?" he asked, confused.

"Kusa," Kusa said curtly. Raziel didn't know what he had expected.

Kusa, still holding tightly to his arm, closed its eyes. It breathed deep, and Raziel felt the night air change, draw close as if it were curious. Though there were no trees nearby, he heard the rustling of leaves in the wind. Kusa whispered its name, and Raziel felt a shiver run from the top of his head down his back. He shook momentarily with it, and Kusa placed its bleeding thumb on Raziel's own thumb. His hand, his whole arm bucked in response, and Raziel gasped. Cold that burned like he'd thrust his whole arm into a bucket of ice water shot up to his shoulder.

"What?" Raziel blurted.

"Kusa," Kusa said, pleased. The cold faded quickly and in its absence Raziel felt... nothing. The pain was completely gone. Cautiously, he moved his fingers and when that didn't hurt, he tried moving his hand as much as he could within the cast. It was completely healed.

A surge of joy and wonder coursed through Raziel as he realized what the little spirit had done. Every healer he'd ever been to, and there had been quite a few, had told him that they could only help energize the course of a body's natural abilities to heal. It drew on a person's reserves of energy to work. That was why Raziel had been so tired and hungry. But it was supposed to be dangerous to push a person to heal too fast. It could outright kill a person simply by overtaxing them.

"Thank you," Raziel whispered, awe in his voice. Then he remembered his father's book.

"But are you going to bring my--?"

Kusa's head jerked up suddenly and Raziel stopped in mid sentence. Before Raziel could even take a breath to ask what it was doing, Kusa had silently leapt backwards off the patio. Raziel rushed over to the rail and looked down in time to catch a glimpse of its cloak disappearing down an alley. He nearly screamed in frustration.

"Hey! What are you doing outside?" a hard-edged voice demanded.

Raziel flinched and looked back to the door. Two guards stood there, staring at him intently. What surprised Raziel was the tensely controlled fear he sensed in their faces. Their expressions told him that he needed to lie.

"Just uh... getting some fresh air?" he said finally, trying to sound like someone who was innocent but thought he might be in trouble. Which wasn't difficult since that's how he usually thought of himself in these types of situations.

"Get inside. Now." The guard's voice carried the tone of one who would not hesitate to resort to violence if not immediately obeyed.

Raziel swallowed and nodded hurriedly as he began walking towards them. He might've been angry if the looks the guards were giving him hadn't seemed so strangely fearful. They kept a close watch on him all the way to the door of the bedroom. Raziel felt like he sensed them standing just out of sight by the open door long after he'd made his way to bed.

Despite them, he lay in bed feeling as if the whole world had slipped back into a right shape, just like his hand had under Kusa's magic. He held the picture of his father and mother tightly to his chest, the way a small child would hold a stuffed animal.

The book wasn't gone. He could get it back whether Kusa brought it to him or not. He would get it back. No matter what.