EngelReise - Chapter 5

**Chapter 4 < | > Chapter 6**

Tomako's journey to Swatsland has begun, but first, she must escape her home island of Kushyrin. Well-supplied and with decent money for the moment, Tomako must make these things last for quite a distance. No doubt, both things will decrease in short time. Henceforth, the woman is eager to reach the island of Dayaking by the end of the day. Little does she know, the Swatslandic have one last surprise for her before leaving Kushyrin...

## Chapter Reading

== Chapter 5 - *Legend* =

Boshtang was far behind at this point and what remained of her home even farther. Six hours of traveling brought Tomako to a more northeastern point in Kushyrin, somewhere she had never been. The northern shore connecting to Boshtang was about an hour away, but her destination would have her at the northeastern shoreline, which would connect to the much larger island of Dayaking. Otomo was correct in suggesting the capital city to her, no Imperyean ship in Kushyrin would be delivering her to Krucifix any time soon; at least, not if the Swatslandic had anything to say about it. Indeed, her best gamble would be to check the dockyard of Korion, located in the much larger island of Dayaking. There she was likely to find Swatslandic vessels permitted to travel to Krucifix, and while she hated to admit it, she may require the help of Swatslandic sailormen if she were to make it to Krucifix.

It was hard for Tomako to comprehend that the island of Dayaking is more than five times the size of Kushyrin, but it was indeed her intended destination. Aside from what direction she was headed, there was no information available as to where exactly she was going. She didn’t even know where the city of Korion was other than that it was the capital of Imperyea and located somewhere in Dayaking. As for reaching the island of Dayaking, she went off the assumption that a shoreline village would exist on the northeastern tip of Kushyrin that offers transportation. It was only a hunch, but one she was ready to put her faith behind.

With many bags and satchels attached to her horse and a samurai blade to her waist, Tomako continued to ride under an evening sun. Having spent a fourth of the day riding since leaving Otomo’s home, there was little time remaining before dark. This was problematic for the woman who had yet to secure herself a place to stay. Without a map to go by or even a good sense of direction, she was bidding entirely on the idea that by continuing in the same direction, she would reach the northeastern shore just as the moon begins to show. One thing she was certain of was that there would be some night riding to do.

Moving at a fair speed for the horse, Tomako spent much of her time examining her surroundings. Colorful flowers, clusters of trees, changing terrain, and even the occasional wild horse. Seeing horse families roam free undisturbed brought as much joy to the woman as does seeing well-trained domestic horses. This would, every so often, refresh dreams of becoming a fully-fledged horse trainer. Now that her farm was destroyed, this was potentially more than just a dream, it could very well be the direction the Angels go for the sake of rebuilding.

Then there was her current mount, the same one Otomo borrowed her many days ago. The two horses she brought with the supply carriage was gifted to Otomo as a final parting gift; both were superior to her current mount, but this was of no consequence to her. Even with such a long journey ahead, Tomako would take pleasure in a challenge. The master would learn from its horse and vice versa, and Tomako’s feelings toward this creature were high.

Each step the horse took was good, but given a patch of bad terrain, Tomako could easily feel a struggle. As it would seem, her mount did not react well to mud, as she had just experienced recently with a near slip.

Gently touching the creature’s neck, Tomako wondered aloud, “I’m curious if Otomo improperly nailed in your shoes.”

A discomforting horseshoe would justify its somewhat inconsistent handling of bad terrain, and if true, she would need to carefully begin a replacement procedure. With any luck though, the horse was simply lacking in experience and frantic about a stranger taking it somewhere unfamiliar. It was trained to travel simple distances and lead carriages for Otomo, not partake on a grand adventure. With this in mind, converting this simple transport horse into an elite mount would take time and a buildup of trust.

It was upon reaching the top of a hill that she ordered the mount to a stop. Looking down that hill, the charred remains of a farm existed and a Swatslandic banner planted before it. Though this got her heart beating with feelings of fear, anger, and sorrow, she had no choice but to try and see the positive side of this destroyed farm.

*This can only mean I’m nearing a military installation…*Tomako dipped her head to further this thought. *Perhaps a nearby settlement of similar importance to Boshtang. I doubt the Swatslandic walked all the way from Boshtang just to set fire to this farm…*

This was enough logic for her to go by. On a horse, it took her around six hours to reach this point. It didn’t seem cost effective to march on foot just to burn down a farm unless the distance was short enough. For this reason, she concluded that a settlement had to be close by.

Tomako had no intention of searching the home for loot like before, she was already stocked full with goods, hence her decision to continue onward. She did so while giving the destroyed farm glances but soon rested her gaze forward.

The destroyed farm behind her represented one of many families to have suffered the wrath of the Swatslandic Crown. As unfortunate as this was, Tomako couldn’t spare to make herself sad over the removal of an unknown family. Looking back in sorrow wasn’t going to bring them back, and so, she moved on and tried to clear her mind.

With another passing hour, Tomako exited a very small forest and came out onto grassy plains. It was here where she could admit exhaustion, having now been on the move for so long. At the same time, a sort of childlike excitement took her with everything she was discovering. While it may not have been much, putting herself through even a small forest was somewhat of a radical experience for a woman who lived her entire life in household isolation.

Now around her was grass and little more, but a distant sighting was what painted an interesting picture for her. Black smoke was visible from three separate locations. Two further south, one nearby to the east. The sight was beyond frightening but not enough to make her stop. She did, however, reposition her mount to head east, rather than northeast. At the very least she wanted to get a better look.

In an occurrence that hit Tomako too close to home, she would not much later encounter a farm as it burned to the ground, its possessions looted, animals slaughtered, and family abducted. Like before, Swatslandic soldiers carried out the dark act while an officer presided. He was not the same Tomako had met, but attired in a similar manner of black and red rich clothing, the difference being a fur collar and open skirting.

From a safe distance, Tomako put herself in a halted position so that she could examine the ravaging in progress. She had arrived much earlier this time, for they had not begun the house burning yet, only that of the stables and barn. Her attention thus shifted to the many soldiers carrying out food and luxuries, each item was brought to a supply carriage as loot.

The woman’s eyes changed size frequently in response to the horror but settled on an eventual glare upon noticing two carriages moving away from the home. One was filled with loot, the other carried people of more humble appearance. There was no doubt in her mind that these were the victims of this farm pillaging. Both carriages were of decent distance from the home but close enough for Tomako to make out the sight of. Tomako’s attention remained centered on the departing carriages, meanwhile, her horse seemed bothered by the sight of a massive fire. The horse was getting its break, but one that created anxiety.

*There’s only a single horse down there belonging to that caped man. These men must have marched here by foot…* This point further supported the idea that she was nearing a settlement, and with the sun descending fast, it would be in her best interest to locate it. Yet, at this moment, there was another concerning matter floating around in her mind.

She looked to the presiding Swatslandic officer, then once more to the departing carriages. While the distance made it hard to tell if these were truly the farm’s family members being hauled away, the sight of commoner clothing among rich red Swatslandic clothing convinced her so. If this were true, Tomako had reason to invest herself into this situation, for they would be going wherever her own parents were taken. It was a life-threatening dare to even think about intervening in Swatslandic military matters, but this was perhaps her greatest opportunity to discover where her parents were being held. Not to mention, fellow Imperyeans were in peril, followers of Puritonism, no less.

With a frozen face of nervousness, Tomako reached for one of her many food satchels and removed the pin keeping it closed. A trembling woman brought this pin up to her face, petrifying herself over what she was thinking of doing.

The Swatslandic officer who stood before the burning estate farm observed as soldiers continued out the door with more furniture. At this point all of the food had been confiscated, leaving only the luxury items. While a sense of guilt was visible on him, he couldn’t help but enlist interest in the exotic items they were taking. From paintings to ornaments, everything interested him—the Imperyean culture interested him.

He spoke to one of his guards, “I should say it is magnificent, yes?” The guard only shifted his eyes to the officer. “Beautiful art, brilliant lazing items, intricate foods; the Imperyean culture commands my respect, even if they are all bound for damnation.”

“Indeed, sir.”

The officer continued to openly appreciate the Imperyean items he saw carried away, possibly as a subtle way of convincing himself that he is not so villainous of a character. The guard beside him, meanwhile, turned his body just in time to spot trouble.

“Intruder, sir.”

“Intruder?”

The officer turned and was faced immediately by a galloping Imperyean and her horse. The bottom half of her face was covered by hair, carefully wrapped and pinned to the back of her head. More notably, the sheathed katana to her waist alerted many Swatslandic soldiers to a potentially unsafe presence. It was the officer, staring with a dumbfounded look, who identified this cavalryman as a woman.

Tomako’s destination turned out not to be the burning farm, for she passed by without any harmful intent to their shock. Her erratic and threatening character did, however, offend the officer and almost act as a warning of worse to come.

Through the field, up a hill, and onto grassy plains, Tomako was very careful in unsheathing her blade whilst riding. Her mount was exerting every bit of energy into giving the prisoner carriage chase. As it would turn out, the loot and prisoner carriages were going separate directions, though both had become aware of Tomako’s presence.

The two prisoners in the back—a man and woman—gawked at the approaching swordswoman. They knew not of Tomako’s intent, only that she chose to pursue them versus the carriage of looted goods. Its two riders, mere peasant riders from Swatsland, looked back with frantic behaviors.

“Do you see what I’m seeing?” one asked.

“Yes, I’m not blind.”

Both men held up personal protection in the form of mere knives in preparation for a duel with the pursuing Imperyean. Tomako applied great pressure to her hold of the sword, and despite being unable to swing with two hands, readied herself for a vertical swing. The distance between Tomako and the carriage was still great, but every second shortened the distance. It was as if her horse knew precisely what was going on and thus put in harder effort.

“Cease your threat, sir!” one of the riders shouted.

Tomako cast aside his demand and began to move gradually left, and soon, she and the carriage aligned. A brief observation to the right confirmed what she suspected, that this carriage carried two captured farmers, both of similar young age and neither showing hostility.

With a little more push, Tomako sent her mount forward with a burst of advanced speed. The extra speed eventually put her up against the left rider, who reached his knife out to attempt a swing at her. Unfortunately for him, the distance between the two was still too great for a knife. Tomako, in turn, raised EngelReise high up into the air and slashed down at the carriage, not the man.

The rope connecting the carriage to its left horse had been severed. In response to the separation, the creature jumped away from the carriage just in time, as it came crashing down in the coming second. The right horse ended up falling with the carriage but avoided serious harm. The conclusion had both riders ejecting from the carriage and its two prisoners in a sense catapulted forward.

While the two downed riders worked on getting up from the wreckage, Tomako had already performed a quick turn and diagonally slashed the other carriage horse free. Lastly, she leaped from her horse and rushed to the aid of the prisoners.

One rider got off his knee and searched his body in a panic, “Paint my misfortune, I’ve lost my knife!”

The other stood up and growled, “But I didn’t.”

Tomako kept an eye on the riders while in the meantime working to cut the male prisoner free. The tied woman squirmed on the ground until soon being aided by both Tomako and her husband.

A single armed rider charged toward the group with his knife out, shouting, “Mera—agh!”

Tomako came to her feet with great response time, however, was not holding her sword the correct way. She would be saved by the male farmer she just saved, who successfully hit the rider on the forehead with a thrown stone. Tomako nodded to the man in appreciation of the save, as did he to her.

The rider, still holding his knife, stopped to look at the three. He was now faced by a well-armed Tomako and two freed farmers, both holding stones. His fellow rider, still without a knife, picked up a stone of his own and took to his companion’s side. A faceoff ensued between Imperyeans and Swatslandic.

Tomako pleaded, “I implore for peace, none of us have actual intent to kill.”

The other rider held his stone back for a throw and replied, “Speak for yourself, woman!” He threw the rock, but the throw was so weak it hadn’t even reached his enemies. Embarrassed, he pocketed his hands and laughed. “J- Just kidding. I’m a rider, not a fighter.”

The man with a knife looked at the woman’s katana nervously before dropping to the ground, “Uh, ow! Ow! My leg. I’m down..!”

The Imperyeans were left staring at the capitulating Swatslandic men with confusion but ultimately did not reject the opportunity. The two freed farmers moved closer to Tomako to offer their gratitude, but she directed them toward the two carriage horses she had just freed.

“I insist you mount up and follow me! Just be very careful, riding without a saddle can be -”

“Yes, yes,” the male farmer interrupted. “Let’s ride. Go!”

Without hesitation, Tomako mounted her horse and patrolled around the freed horses. She was nervous, for these carriage horses could very well be rarely mounted. If nothing else, they could hitch a ride on her horse. They had little time to waste, though; no doubt Swatslandic soldiers were on the way.

The man and woman mounted individual horses, and with great caution, ordered their mounts forward. Just as Tomako feared, their horses hesitated in following orders and were unlikely to so much as gallop. For escaping the Swatslandic military, they would suffice.

“Ride!” Tomako ordered.

With this, the three took off east. They were riding away from the burning farm and away from the grassy plains. Provided the pillaging Swatslandic came with no cavalry, except the officer’s mount, all they had to do was escape into the hillside. From there, they would be free.

Not too much later, Tomako led the two farmers into a slope of terrain featuring many trees. They were far out of range for on-foot Swatslandic men if not also in an unpredictable hiding place. For the time being, the Imperyeans were safe.

Finally, everyone dismounted and convened. The closeness of the two did, in fact, make it easy for Tomako to identify them as lovers; lovers hopefully without child given the lack of one in the carriage. This was the very first thing she wished an answer for.

“I deeply regret any dark fate that might have reached your child today,” she commented.

The man stopped her with a chuckle, “Ah, but we’ve only been wedded for a month, in the dockyard village of Boshtang.”

Tomako’s eyes widened along with a smile, “You don’t say!”

The female farmer took a respectful bow, “I am grateful for your aggressively noble deed…” she looked up, seeking a name.

The wandering Imperyean looked to the sky and hummed. It was only now that she finally unpinned her hair, thus revealing her face in full.

*I’m sure these two are friendly, but the last thing I want is my name to surface. After all, the Swatslandic may be looking for me…*

So, Tomako lied, “Togami… Legend…”

The man forced a handshake, “Well met, Togami Legend.”

Now that the couple had been saved spared a slave life in Swatsland, Tomako was ready to ask the big question, one that would assist in the search for her parents.

“Where were the Swatslandic taking you?”

“To Swatsland.”

“Yes, yes…” Tomako dug deeper, “But from where in Imperyea would they first bring you?”

The man returned a grim face, displeased to not have a better answer for his savior, “I wish I could tell you. We were being sent to Svatpa to work the Swatslandic fields. That’s all we know, I swear it be true.”

“I see…” Tomako muttered.

“I apologize. I assume this is a very important matter to you?”

While Tomako did nod, she also made nothing of it. “I am just happy to have helped.”

“And help us you did,” the wife complimented. “Your pot of honor is unmatched.

For a moment, the two lovers stepped aside to discuss something in private. Tomako had no intention of eavesdropping, though their periodic glances at her implied that the private discussion concerned her. In no more than twenty seconds, they returned with happy faces.

“My wife and I insist you come rest at our fishing house in Hitakato if needed.” The offer greatly interested Tomako. “Without a farm, it looks like we’ll be full-time fishers from now on. We’d be honored to have you, Togami.”

“Hitakato, hm? Can I reach the island of Dayaking from there?”

The female lover raised her hand, adding, “I am from Dayaking.”

Tomako beamed, “Excellent!”

The man offered his input, “Hitakato is directly north from here, a small fishing village. Although, if it is the island of Dayaking you seek, you will want to find yourself in West Wowa, northeast from here.”

Tomako looked upon the female farmer for further assistance, “This West Wowa. I can reach Dayaking from there?”

The wife affirmed this with a nod, “Wowa is a large divided village located on both Kushyrin and Dayaking. You can reach the strait from there. Take a riverboat across and you’ll be in East Wowa.” Her smile became more inviting. “I hope this does not disappoint you, but you will not see too much of a difference between the islands of Dayaking and Kushyrin.”

Tomako tapped a hand over her horse, then pointed northeast, “Wowa is that way?” Both farmers nodded. “How far? Can I still make it today?”

The man looked in that direction, “Seeing as to how the sun is almost down… you should be there in a quarter of a day, perhaps?”

Tomako was left standing still, looking at her options. If such a claim were true, she would be arriving in Wowa a little past midnight. Such a concept was foreign to the woman who normally aimed at waking up at the crack of dawn. This begged the question of whether to take up their offer of staying at their fishing house. Otherwise, she could make the taxing stretch and slumber in West Wowa.

The male farmer practically read her mind, “Our offer stands. You can reside at our fishing house for the night if you wish.” An exchange of stares was made. “You might be better off resting with us and continuing your travels tomorrow. West Wowa will take some time to reach.”

After taking a deep breath, Tomako declined with the shake of her hand. “Thank you for the offer, but, I would be better off persevering the night and making my presence in Wowa tonight.”

“Very well.”

With parting bows of gratitude, Tomako mounted up and began her departure from the forest. In the end, she hadn’t received any information on the whereabouts of her parents, and thus the slight spark of hope that they could still be found in Imperyea continued to die. But this occurrence did not go unrewarded. Because of her action, two lovers would continue to live free lives in their homeland of Imperyea. She did so without putting blood on EngelReise.

This was a reward on its own for the woman who knew only honor.

Unfortunately, her decision to head straight for the village of Wowa did once again have her traveling under a moon late at night. While Tomako was no stranger to the dark nor the wildlife that came out during this time, she could admit fright to traveling at this time. Wolves only frightened the woman when without a roof over her head, and for the first time ever, she did not have this. In addition to this fact, there was the possibility that she would make a slight error in direction and miss West Wowa; at that point, she would need to decide what to do regarding sleep. Miss Wowa and she would need to spend her first night of the journey outside. One way or another, outdoor sleeping was something she would have to get used to if she were to go through with this fool’s quest.

Then there was her new trusted companion who despite being ridden by a stranger in an unfamiliar place continued to give it their all. It was unknowable to Tomako as to why this horse tried so hard for her, especially when, as far as it knew, she might be a horse thief. There were countless theories Tomako could come up with to explain the work ethic but be it religious, mental, or relational in reasoning, she fancied the idea of it being a relational reason.

With a tilted head, Tomako spoke to the horse, “I’m sorry, have we met before?” Obviously, the horse did not respond, but this did not keep the woman from smiling, as if hearing an answer in her head. “My name is Tomako Angel. I am a longtime friend of your former master, Otomo the samurai merchant.”

Her smile remained as the horse continued to move, but her smile slowly began to shake as a feeling of nervousness took command of her.

*I should have greeted this horse in a more etiquette manner, if not days ago…*

Clearing her throat, the woman more calmly explained, “My parents have been kidnapped by Swatslandic slavers and Otomo has graciously transferred you to me for a daring mission to retrieve them. I know that we only met so long ago, but, um…” she quirked her mouth and continued, “I want you to know that even though I’m putting you through a dangerous endeavor, I’m going to do whatever I can to gratify you. You and I are friends now and I wish to treat you like one.” More obvious silence from the horse, eventually leading her to beam and conclude, “I really appreciate you!”

The talent of Tomako Angel in producing the best horses around could not be doubted, especially by someone like Otomo, who from firsthand experience with her groomed horses could see the wealth to be made in selling them. At the same time, one such as her father would be very critical of her tendency to socialize with the creatures. Tomako’s communication with her horses went farther than just verbal commands, she was one to speak full-length dialogue to them as well.

Tomako, born as an only child on a farm, rarely permitted to go out and socialize, was without a doubt socially troubled. With a father she had actively tried not speaking to, all her life she was limited to daily speech with her mother and rarely anyone else. Her home may have been a happy place, but it was also a prison when it came to social activity. For this reason, it was perhaps unsurprising that over the course of her life, she became truly convinced that her horses could be conversed with.

From her point of view, the horse was as much of a riding companion as they were a human equivalent to a best friend, and the horse she now rode was no exception…

Fate, as of late, had a way of doing this to Tomako, but once more her arrival into a village was accompanied by rainfall had come late in the evening, and as she often does, this was interpreted as a sign from the gods that she had dishonored the rescued farmers by rejecting their fishing house stay. She would be more open-minded to such offers in the future. She knew the trip to West Wowa would have to be made in a single ride from the moment that the rain began; sleeping under a tree with rainfall so intense was simply out of the question. Fortunately, through great perseverance, the end of her travel had come short of midnight.

Wowa—West Wowa to be exact—was of similar design to Boshtang. West Wowa was smaller than Boshtang, but if merged with East Wowa over the strait between Dayaking, the village was more or less of a city. Furthermore, West Wowa was just as Tomako envisioned it would be, that is, a simple society with a dockyard, trading posts, and some inns. With such tiredness building up, no doubt, an inn would be her next stop after crossing the strait. Indeed, despite the time of night, the ambitious Angel was not done yet. West Wowa was not enough to warrant a closure to this day, she wanted to be on the island of Dayaking the next time she awakens. With this in mind, East Wowa was where she wished to end the day.

The village was lively despite being close to midnight. Villagers performed nightly tasks, men and women alike lounged around the central inn, and more notably, a crowd existed at the dockyard. Rightfully so, the crowded dockyard concerned her, for she could only wonder how long the wait would be to get on a boat.

Upon further inspection, Tomako discovered an enraged crowd of thirty-some people, almost all of whom were protesting a group of Swatslandic dockyard pilots. Tomako dismounted her horse and maneuvered through the crowd, eager to investigate the causation of outrage.

“I know, I know, I know!” a ship captain answered. “I am genuinely sad for you! The ships are flooded by the rain at the moment. For your own protection, we will be unable to shuttle until noon!”

Tomako’s eyebrows raised in response, the crowd was not as peaceful minded as her about this matter.

“I have a supply wagon waiting in East Wowa that will soon be left unattended! Someone will surely steal it by morning!”

“My parents are ill! I must see them now, Svatpean demon!”

Similar cries of discontent created a hateful rhythm. Tomako had a complaint of her own but felt it unnecessary to voice her thoughts, especially when, in her own mind, the rain was a result of her being dishonorable to the farmers. Accepting this as reality, she grabbed onto her soaked hair, moved it to her back, and stepped away from the crowd.

A man ran forward and shook his fist at the captain, “Huh! Well! Perhaps I will give my business to *another* shuttle business!”

The captain lowered his brows, “There is no other shuttle business.”

“Nyeh…” the man growled back.

Quick and unprecedented travel ensued as Tomako made her way to an alley in West Wowa. The two houses she situated herself between appeared abandoned, or more likely, without lights due to the time. Regardless, she dropped from her horse and tied it to a nearby hitching post. For their convenience, the alley was partially shielded by the roofs of both houses, close enough together to provide cover.

As lightning violated the peaceful environment. The woman frowned at the horse, and then with a passionate touch of the muzzle, smiled to try and comfort it.

“Don’t be afraid. This isn’t too much different from being in a stable.”

In those coming moments, Tomako dug through an assortment of bags and satchels she had attached to the mount. The horse made no movement at all as she completely unclothed, making a fast change of attire. Her brown rancher attire was put away and her black and blue kimono dress—plus sandals—were put on.

“I’ll return soon,” she assured the animal. Then from a much larger bag, she poured a mixture of hay and grain onto the ground. The grain came in a smaller portion. “I apologize, but for the time being, I’ll need to ask of you to eat from the ground.”

The horse did just that. There was nothing wrong with having her animal companion eat from the ground—in fact, many would claim this is healthier for respiratory reasons—but on the flipside, this could also result in the animal gathering dirt in its mouth. There was no alternative solution for the moment.

Tomako left everything behind except for the blue vial Otomo had given her, and secretly against her bare chest, she hid EngelReise. Dressed for the occasion, Tomako moved toward the very active inn of West Wowa. Coming from a very isolated background, this was sure to be a nerve-racking social experience for her.

“Cherry blossom,” a man said with a parlor card down in front of him.

His two opponents clapped out of respect before drinking tea. Similar games existed throughout the inn, and every man or woman was dressed appropriately, many also wearing kimonos. It just so happened that Tomako entered with the most expensive one of all. Unlike the common brown, yellow, or green dress, she bore the colors of the now fallen Imperyean Empire. It was not her intent to do so, but nearly all who looked upon her silently praised the woman who came off looking like a daring woman of resistance to Swatslandic rule. The other part of it was simply that Tomako was an attractive woman by Imperyean standards.

This inn was not just for gaming, it existed for a multitude of reasons. All over, young men and women stood around either socializing or in search of a mate. Love was an especially prevalent theme here, especially for the young. Were it not for Soga’s desire for Tomako to wed with an upperclassman, he would have sent her to such a place in waiting for a bachelor.

Away from the social game came more serious business. In the halls of the inn stood some of the most muscular men Imperyea had to offer, looking for a certain kind of work. Secretly, these men in simple robes were actually former samurai acting as men for hire. The Swatslandic banishment of the samurai meant what they were doing was illegal, however, none would confess to offering these illegal samurai services, at least not to any Svatpean.

Finally, there was the obvious serving of tea, and on rare occasion, alcohol as well. Seeing as to how Tomako was not looking to play cards, find love, nor hire warriors, her destination was the tea counter.

A bit intimidated by the social game, Tomako positioned herself on her knees at the farthest side of the counter. Here she raised a finger as a way of summoning the tea server, who met her without hesitation.

“Good evening, ma’am.”

Tomako nodded with grace, “Yes, hello. I am new here.”

A few curious eyes were placed on her, mostly from men seeking a lover, but ultimately only the tea server was left staring at her for long.

“Welcome to Wowa.” He bowed, then raised a finger. “Have you had a chance to try Wowa seaweed?” The woman shook her head. “Oh! In that case…”

The tea server walked off to Tomako’s displeasure, yet she respected what she assumed was an offer of food. It went without saying, despite being left with a good supply by Otomo, she would not pass down a quality meal. In time, the man would return with a bowl of seaweed and place it before her. Tomako nodded with admiration for his hospitality.

“Now, what brings you to our western village of Wowa, let alone at this hour? Are you here seeking to become a lady?”

“A journey,” she answered. “I must reach Krucifix.”

The man let out a single laugh, “Krucifix? By the gods, why would you ever want to step forth there?”

She proceeded to explain, “It is the second leg to a much larger travel.” Before he could pose a new question, Tomako asked one of her own. “Can I travel to Krucifix from here?”

“Wowa to Krucifix? No—o. It pains me to say that boats here only exist to get you across the strait.”

“To Dayaking?”

“Correct.”

The man leaned forward, “And, uh, between you and me… the Swatslandic are easily bribed. If you can reach the Dayaking city of Korion and your purse is large enough, they’ll get you on a ship to Krucifix, no doubt in my mind.”

“Hm…” Then, with optimism, Tomako snapped her fingers. “Could I bribe them to take me to Swatsland?”

“Ha!” The man crossed his arms with a grin. “If you want to go to Swatsland, look into the farming profession,” he joked.

Tomako took offense to this but retained her cool character. “So, Korion is indeed the place to be, then…”

“For a trip to Krucifix of all places, yes. While we Imperyeans can no longer command vessels of our own, the Swatslandic continue to trade with the Krucifixans. Bribing a captain to take you on a trading vessel is your only chance.” Tomako continuously nodded, finding this information to be most helpful. His words went against Otomo’s claim of it being a simple matter of finding a ship. “Assuming you leave for East Wowa, you will need to travel northeast until you reach the shoreline of Dayaking. Follow the shoreline and you should arrive in the capital city of Korion. It should take three whole days of traveling.”

“Three days…” Tomako muttered with a chill down her spine.

“But, in all fairness, I gather that from the mouth of soldiers who have *marched* between Wowa and Korion in the past. For someone mounted atop a horse and constantly on the move… perhaps two days.”

“Interesting.”

For another forty minutes or so, Tomako spoke of Wowa and Korion. In particular, she was seeking information on good deals to make and the best possible routes for traveling between locations. As he had explained, her best option would be to tackle two days of horseback travel. If the trip went without interruption, she could have herself sailing for Krucifix by the end of the week.

Her troubles in her home island of Kushyrin, however, were not yet over…

Happy times in the inn had been so suddenly silenced as two Swatslandic guards made their presence known. Stomping their boots down on the wood floor created a powerful scene and drew glares from some of the most critical of Imperyeans. Following their entrance came an officer—the very same officer who Tomako had saved the two farmers from. She, however, did not recognize the man. The officer’s guards proceeded to scan the establishment for a specific character.

The officer, angry and impatient, joined them in searching left and right. One guard stepped up beside him and whispered, “…the description was of an Imperyean woman with black hair, brown clothing from torso to foot, short in stance…”

A not so quiet response was given, “Useless! *All* of these Imperyeans have black hair!” A bald Imperyean looked to his black-haired friend and smirked. “All these women look exactly alike! All the same!”

Many confused glances were exchanged throughout the inn; Tomako was left with quivering eyes and a cold sweat. Her eyes, slowly, rolled downward, at a loss of breath in what was a very tense situation for her. Miraculously, she was not wearing the brown clothing his guard described, but rather her kimono. Not to mention, her hair was no longer covering her lower face.

A general scan continued before the officer held a hand up to address the Imperyean guests, “Attention, citizens! A woman with black hair, brown clothing, and a samurai sword has recently stolen Swatslandic items from us! If anyone knows the whereabouts or has information on such a person, step up, now!”

More glances were exchanged around the inn. There were well over ten Imperyean women—including Tomako—who all fit the black hair prerequisite. No one was wearing brown or openly carrying a sword, however, Tomako did have EngelReise on her, hidden within her dress. Nonetheless, the continuing silence further provoked the officer.

“Not talking, hm?”

His guard whispered, “…we could interrogate these people with difficult questions…”

“Bah, forget it. There’s no hope. These Shimuan women have no defining features about them.”

He turned away and walked out the door. His men followed him with no luck in their brief search. Tomako, still with a beating heart, exhaled and turned to the tea server with wide eyes. She came off looking suspicious to him, but even if she was the woman they were looking for, no one in this inn would have any reason to hand her over. Everyone felt the same about their occupiers.

“It’s getting late. How much might a room here cost?”

“Three hundred coins a night.”

Tomako widened her eyes and gulped; she felt as though a stone had just dropped down her throat.

“…three hundred coins?”

He nodded, “Travelers come and go, but all travelers desire a room. What better place to rest than a spacious room with a bed and good view of Wowa?”

“Yes, but you see… three hundred?”

A more serious face came about the man, “Three hundred coins. No more, no less.”

*I do have seven hundred and fifty coins in my purse, but… that’s a lot of money in exchange for a short rest…*

Tomako looked up with innocent eyes and a cute smile, but her beauty failed to alter the deal. With the established price being three hundred coins, she looked down to consider her options carefully.

Back in the horrid rain, with only thin sheet roofs protecting the two, Tomako settled down beside her horse. To preserve the clean look of her kimono dress, she attired herself back in brown. On a loud and rainy night, her brown attire was the closest thing she’d be getting to a blanket. And thus, with a friendly touch to her horse’s leg, Tomako closed her eyes while laying against the wall of the alley.

She was going with the exhausting but more cost-effective choice. With any luck, the following day would find her getting on a boat to East Wowa, and by extension, the island of Dayaking. It was time to bid farewell to Kushyrin—the only place she knew, the island of her birth, and first and foremost, her home…

To be continued!

**Chapter 4 < | > Chapter 6**

## Author Notes

#### Togami Legend

At the time of this writing, I had a character in the video game *Mount & Blade: Warband* (of which inspired EngelReise) that had the name 'Togami Legend.' The character was, ultimately, named after Tomako's mother, and the character customized to look similar to Tomako. By the time of this chapter, I had debated whether Tomako's naïve and honest character would lead to her using her actual name in public, or whether to adopt a handle. My conclusion was that Tomako would be cautious of the unknown people and world around her, and assume that the Swatslandic are tracking her down. Therefore, I granted Tomako the handle 'Togami Legend', playing this off as a way for her to honor her mother and mask her true identity. This would later in the chapter be supported by the Swatslandic being unable to tell Imperyeans apart, thus further cementing the idea that Tomako could conceal her true identity simply by taking on a different name.

## Chapter Illustration

This illustration depicts the city of West Wowa during the night. This is the second illustration to take advantage of *Garry's Mod* as a tool, as the entire scene was produced in-game from small cubical models against a body of water. Like before, the screenshot was later enhanced and finished through Adobe Photoshop.

This was the first time since the prologue that characters were excluded from the illustration.