EngelReise - Chapter 2

**Chapter 1 < | > Chapter 3**

Tomako has a good deal to make with Otomo; supplies in exchange for seven hundred coins. Considering the highly unorthodox iron fist Swatsland is controlling Imperyea's farmers with, staying up fiscally is in the best interest of the Angel family. Tomako, however, may surprise her family with more money than she originally intended on bringing home, as she runs into a grand opportunity. Little does she know while in Boshtang, life back home will never be the same...

## Chapter Reading

== Chapter 2 – *Threat of Fire* =

The sun had risen once more over the Angel homestead and was perfectly aligned with the lone window found on the second floor. Just below this window was Tomako, who slept over a futon consisting of some mattresses and quilts for easy folding. Despite her father’s harshness, Tomako enjoyed the entire upper floor as a bedroom, though it lacked much content that would suggest it is hers. Aside from a mirror, clothing, and her horse saddle, the woman could move out of this room at any time without a hassle. Best of all for her was that this private part of the house made for an excellent prayer spot, something Tomako did daily.

That morning, Togami climbed the ladder and approached Tomako as she slept. Getting on her knees, the mother sat beside the futon and set a cup of tea down. A mixture of the sun shining through the window and her mother present was enough to wake Tomako up at last. Her first conscious action of the day was to unveil her arm and dip her fingers into a bowl of water placed near the bedding, then to rinse her face slowly.

“Good morning, Tomako.”

The daughter stopped rinsing her face for a moment, then resumed. “Oh, hello, Mother.” She opened her eyes and took the tea into hand with a gracious nod. “I haven't fallen off a horse that tragically in two years. Yesterday was a painful reminder that I must remain vigilant of the unexpected while riding, despite my experience. I am ever so lucky not to have fallen during fast movement.”

“Are you still experiencing discomforts?”

Tomako sat up and pushed against her back, “A bruise or two, perhaps, but other than that I am alright now.” She took a moment to drink her tea, then brought up an explanation. “The horse I was riding is fast—very fast. Unfortunately, she has yet to fully grasp the concept of discipline. She is too hesitant in responding to me, hence my eventual fall.”

“I trust you will find a way to remedy this.”

“I will,” Tomako insisted. “Rest assured, I only fell from my horse for the God of Kushyrin willed it.”

Togami’s eyes flashed open, “Wha—a? What are you talking about, my daughter?”

Tomako calmly lectured, “It is simple logic. You told me to stay away from the Swatslandic, I acted against your whim and approached the Swatslandic. I mindfully disrespected my mother and the God of Kushyrin felt it necessary to stress a lesson upon me.”

The mother blinked at Tomako a few times in shock, only to eventually close her eyes and soundly chuckle. The next thing Tomako knew, her mother was grabbing her by the cheek gently in a way *only* a mother could normally do in this culture.

“Oh, you’re my little Perfectly Honorable One, but there is still much for you to understand about Puritonist theology.”

Tomako smiled back and answered, “Oh, I am certainly not the Perfectly Honorable One. I’ve sinned one too many times in this life you’ve given me.” Following this remark, an ambitious face took the daughter, who shook her fist and said, “But I know it deep down in my heart that I will be the one to birth the Perfectly Honorable One. I’ve never been so certain of anything in my life…”

It took a while for reality to come into play. Tomako could feel something was wrong with this start of the day, but her early conversation with Togami clouded her vision of it. It was only then, having noticed a bright sun out the window that the daughter grunted.

“Oh dear..! I- I- I overslept..!” Distress overtook Tomako as she grasped both sides of her head. “That fall must have dealt a blow to my mind as well as my back.”

Togami placed both hands on her lap and smiled, “I had no intention of waking you. If you were experiencing pain, sleep was necessary for recovery. We were willing to perform your morning tasks.”

Tomako’s slowly began to gawk while gradually turning her head. “W- We?”

“Your father and I performed your morning tasks so that you could rest longer.” Tomako's eyes continued to widen in fear. “You deserved a break. Now, finalize the deal with Otomo and then perform your evening tasks. That is all you are expected of on this day.”

This was a great deal for one who works as hard as Tomako, however, she couldn't truly enjoy this reward for one reason. With a gulp, Tomako set down her tea and returned a scared gaze.

“Father... performed my tasks? Voluntarily?”

“Yes. He understands what needs to be done when a member of the family is unavailable for work. He was more than happy to perform some of your work given your recent fall.”

A frantic smile came over Tomako, “Father is no longer fit enough to do such things. He should not be performing my tasks under any circumstance...” She shivered, knowing there was a price to pay for this extensive rest she was given. “He is going to be furious with me.”

Togami closed her eyes for a moment, then raised a gleeful finger. “If it lessens the burden of the thought, your father only performed two tasks. Seeding and feeding.”

The young Imperyean sighed as anxiety continued to build. Once more she rinsed her face off, this time to relax.

“Two tasks too many...” she replied.

Togami had put it best when saying that Tomako’s day was as simple as delivering goods to Otomo and then performing some evening tasks around the farm. All in all, hurting herself with a fall was not the worst thing to happen, especially since the fall hadn't broken anything. Whether she would accept this as a positive occurrence depended solely on how her father would react to the back-injury ordeal. With any luck, she could avoid him for most of the day.

Now once again the woman was fitted in boots and a brown tunic. She worked her way down the ladder and was careful when stepping down, specifically, trying to silence any footsteps. Next, she leaped and then slid toward the entrance without making any sounds. Her sneaky endeavors soon put her behind a plant, then a drawer, and finally the door itself. To this point, Soga was nowhere to be heard or seen.

*Could it be that Father himself has decided to sleep extra time today..?*

There was technically no evidence to suggest this as the truth, yet the daughter found herself pretending like it was. With great relief, Tomako simply turned to the door and put her mind to the greater issue at hand.

*Alright, I will make Father proud by bringing home many coins, and for myself, perhaps today will be the day I see Takeda and become his wife…*

But tragedy would first strike as the very door she faced swung open, revealing a wide-bodied Soga. He had returned from an outhouse session at the worst possible time for the daughter, who had already come to her knees in childly submission.

“Father! Hello! I was just preparing to take leave for Boshtang and return us a great amount of wealth.”

The man narrowed his eyes, entered, and closed the door behind him. Tomako remained down on the floor awaiting a response. As expected, he growled with a tapping foot.

“Tomako—o! I am disappointed in you!”

“Of course, Father.”

“You were lazing around again! Your excuse of having fallen off a horse must have been fabricated in a bid to acquire time off.”

Still on her knees, Tomako also placed both hands over her heart and argued. “I swear, Father. I was enduring insufferable discomfort last night. Now I am better and ready to resume work. Great work, at that.”

“Bah! You continue to insult me with lies. Bad lies. Lies that, for some reason, I continue to tolerate! Consider yourself lucky for being my daughter.” He stomped his foot, practically making Tomako hop on her knees. “If you are truly a master of the horse, how is it that you fell? Hm? Are you a master of the horses who faked a fall or are you not actually the master you claim to be? Confess your lie!”

Her frown greatly expanding, Tomako defended, “I- I never claimed to be a master of horses.” She sent her father a shy smile when saying, “I like to think I’m very good with horses, but hardly a master in any sense. I am more a friend of horses than a master of.”

“Ugh…” Soga pinched his own face, “Tomako, you’re wasting everyone’s time with this horse nonsense. You cannot be friends with a horse nor is there any advantage to trying!”

Tomako swallowed, daring to raise an objecting finger, “I feel it is only fair that I remind you, I have brought thousands of coins to our family through the horses I train. With that being said -”

“You credit yourself for the riches we make off selling horses? Nonsense!” Tomako frowned and looked away, trying to censor her face from showing any offended anger. Even so, the man had nothing to back his claim with. “And why did you not tell us that Swatslandic soldiers visited recently?”

The young woman gasped, then jumped up to her feet. “Swatslandic soldiers? *Here*? When? How do you know?”

Togami stepped into the room with an answer, “You did not notice the footprints near the stables?” Tomako’s answer was provided in the form of a confused face, and so Togami elaborated, “There are footprints all over the farm of Svatpean shape.”

“By the gods...” Tomako muttered.

“The footprints seem to be a few days old.”

Soga pointed at Tomako, “Were you collaborating with the Swatslandic menace!? Do you support those brutes?”

For once, Tomako dismissed her father's words. She found herself tapping a finger over her lip in deep thought, soon widening her eyes upon reaching a conclusion.

“I found a mysterious scar over one of the horses. Perhaps the Swatslandic were touching our livestock. But… that still does not explain why they would bring harm to an innocent horse…” While it seemed only logical to continue speaking about the Swatslandic situation, Tomako still decided to look up and instead ask, “May I begin my travel to Boshtang?”

Soga marched away following this question, leaving Togami to take on the authority role on the matter. She nodded and moved up beside Tomako for some slight privacy. The daughter returned a look of concern.

“…while you're in Boshtang, might you look into acquiring some answers about this Swatslandic farming ordeal..?” Togami asked silently. “Perhaps look into an assurance that we will be allowed to continue prospering here in peace?”

“Believe me, that idea crossed my mind. I suspect I may be able to gather some answers on the matter.”

Without furthering this conversation, the two moved out the door to ready Tomako for the travel back to Boshtang. This trip would be longer due to the carriage of goods she’d be taking with her. All in all, it was shaping up to be another interesting day for Tomako.

Soon enough, Togami finished managing the carriage of supplies. Tomako, meanwhile, was standing around with a nervous expression as she gazed upon the many footprints left around the homestead. Some seemed to belong to leather boots, others belonged to metal footing. It was a mystery as to when, but at some point, the Swatslandic had come to examine the farm. Most footprints led to the stables, which further strengthened Tomako's theory that the cut found on the horse she had taken to Boshtang was caused by a Swatslandic guard. Either way, nothing had been stolen nor did the farm receive any damage, and so one could assume that they were safe—for now.

“Okay, Tomako.” The daughter turned to the carriage. “When you reach Boshtang, make sure you tend to the buckets of milk before all else. The temperature is cool enough that we needn't worry about immediate spoiling, but even so, let us not take any risks.”

“Of course, Mother.”

With a helping lift from her mother, Tomako was brought up onto the carriage. Both horses running the carriage were of spectacular resolve and talent which would ensure a fast delivery; Tomako knew both animals very well.

The young woman looked to the sun in search of a time. Being that she was rested and that the day was young, one in her position could not ask for a better time to deliver goods.

“Should I bring anything back from the marketplace?”

Togami stepped away from the carriage, “I cannot think of anything that we might need.”

Tomako put her hand over a bag she was carrying along with her, “Either way, I am bringing my dress just in case.”

The mother lowered her eyelids and smiled, “Just in case you encounter the Nagano boy?”

Embarrassed, Tomako defended, “In case I need it for… things..!” But with returning fear, she looked at the hills and sighed. “I best leave. If the Swatslandic insists on becoming aggressive toward low-income farmers, we'll be better off having coins to display—or give—to show that our services are needed in Kushyrin.”

“Indeed,” her mother said with a bow.

A moment of silence divided the two, as Tomako continued to stare out toward the distant hills. Soon enough, she raised up the reins of the carriage—used to direct the horses.

“Farewell, Mother.”

“Goodbye, Tomako. I wish you luck on your journey.”

Without a further word, Tomako directed the horses forward. The return to Boshtang was at hand where a bountiful exchange of coins would be made with Otomo. This was not the first time Tomako left with the intention of bringing home great profit, but this was perhaps the most important exchange she would make to this day. This time the gained wealth was not so much needed for personal use, but rather, to impress their Swatslandic overlords who may or may not be watching.

For almost five minutes, Togami remained outside in observance of her departing daughter. While Soga may have strife with his daughter over dynastic issues, Togami would always hold her only daughter to heart even when excluding what she offered financially to the House. It just so happened that Tomako’s elite work ethic turned a great daughter into a perfect one from Togami’s point of view. To see her once again disappear over the hills brought about the same feeling of fear, the fear that one of these days, Tomako would not return from one of her Boshtang trips. It, truthfully, was one of the only instances where Togami could join Soga in wishing they had a son, for she couldn’t bear the thought of her daughter disappearing on these tasks.

Soon Tomako would go completely out of sight as she made it past the surrounding hills. With this, Togami had little more to do than serve her husband. All seemed ordinary of this day up to that point, except, it was upon looking out past the stables that something unusual caught the mother’s attention. For a moment she couldn’t comprehend what she was looking at, for it was truly unusual.

“Hm—m..?”

From the opposite direction in which Tomako went, a massive dust cloud had emerged from the hills with no indication of what was causing the sight. Unfortunately, it was a familiar sight, but one she had hoped to never again see. Not since the Swats-Imperyean War had she seen moving dust of this size out in the distance, back when both Swatslandic and Imperyean armies would march throughout the countryside in search of enemy armies to destroy. In this case, however, there was no war for any army to march in.

“Soga!” Despite her frantic shout, her expression remained calm.

“What!?” he croaked back.

Togami closed her eyes for a moment, then looked back to the distant dust cloud with tightly closed lips.

“I have a request…”

Tomako’s trade journey to Boshtang would go exactly as planned one hour into it. Progress in traveling went well, but much slower than before. Regardless, the carriage was performing without issues—no loose or stuck parts. Likewise, the horses continued to move without much of a struggle.

The Imperyean spent this free time to review each animal in her mind. She began with the one on the left.

*She's a talented creature when it comes to elevated terrain can handle the roughest of slopes without complication. No doubt she will serve a mountaineer well…* Then she looked upon the second horse with similar interest. *He's fast. One might think he's racing the wind with the amount of effort he puts into his runs, or perhaps he's self-aware of his talent and thus paces himself without instruction. Cavalry or even racing, this one is destined for greatness…*

An even more heartwarming sight was the cooperation between these two horses. As she critiqued, one was talented in mountain climbing, the other strong and fast. In the case of horse carriage runs, one could make up for the other given specific situations. If dealing with a hill, the mare could put extra effort into climbing to make up for its counterpart; on the flipside, extra effort could be put into situations requiring speed to make up for the mare's slower build. Togami had been the one to select these two horses, a coincidentally perfect selection in Tomako's eyes.

The trip up to this point had been pleasant and simple, but like last time, the peace had been cut short as Tomako encountered the Tochowa family’s farm, or rather, what little remained of it. Over this hill was where the neighboring farm had been looted and burned. Naturally, this was a site Tomako would find impossible to ignore.

Once more she traveled over the hill but this time not stopping atop it. A slight panic came over the woman while staring at the once existent farm. The fields had been burned, the house reduced to charred wood and the bones of slaughtered animals scattered everywhere. As far as the animals went, so much meat had been harvested from the remains that not even wildlife could enjoy what was left. While Tomako was not one to embrace the savage type of anti-Swatslandic sentiment that Otomo had, even she could look at this site and think poorly of their lack of humanity. There was a lot she did not understand about Swatslandic policies, but she knew well enough that this was beyond criminal.

At the moment to come, Tomako brought the carriage up close to the destroyed house and slowed down. Despite there being meatless carcasses everywhere, the Imperyean found most horror deriving from the destroyed household. Still in disbelief, she ordered the carriage to a full stop.

The Swatslandic banner sticking out from the ground remained even after the burning, Tomako dismounted landed beside this; there she faced the burned home. No roof, destroyed walls, black wood, and only burned shreds of furniture remained. Prior to the burning, this house had masterfully crafted windows, a strong foundation, better doors, and was even constructed out of stronger material than most ordinary houses. Sadly, this was no more. At best, what remained of the house might be firewood material, that is assuming there is anything left uncharred.

She stepped inside what remained to examine the structure. It went without saying that Tomako needn't worry about trespassing at this point. The burnt wood creaked with every step. Not a single room could be identified or even predicted, they all looked the same now with collapsed structure all around. The room she stood in was large enough to be a living room, but there simply was no way to tell.

“Where is their compassion?” Tomako held up a charred plank and dropped it in dramatic fashion. “Why punish honest providers of resource?”

Taking one more step forward, the woman was shocked to find the floor sink down a bit. Without another step, she shut her teeth and applied more pressure to the floor, finding a particularly loose segment of the floor. The Swatslandic may have missed this, but Tomako knew what this meant.

Curious, Tomako knelt and felt around the charred wood for a crevice; after locating such, she dug her fingers into the floor and raised a cellar door. Great interest was enlisted by this discovery, for the ladder appeared untouched by the fire as did the cellar itself. Unfortunately, there was little light to be found down below. Still, the lack of roofing allowed the sun to shine down the hole and create some light.

The Imperyean narrowed her eyes with expanding curiosity, scanned the countryside for any life, and then turned back to the cellar. The owners of this farm were long gone, yet she felt some degree of guilt for trespassing this far. She was first and foremost very pious when it came to her pot of honor. Still, acknowledging that *someone* would eventually stumble across these remains either way, she agreed to check out the cellar in hopes of finding anything of use.

She climbed down the ladder and landed gently. Surprisingly, the cellar was not very steep, thus she would need to crouch. Turning around, she was surprised to find a relatively undamaged room. Even more, it contained goods. Milk, beef, fish, eggs, grain, and a few chests. The biggest find was fish, a commodity only available to those who live close enough to the shore.

The woman approached the many surviving goods with quivering eyes of surprise. *Goodness, the Swatslandic missed a lot of produce…*

A few moments were taken to examine the quality of said goods. She did so through taste and smell. Not a single good was bad except for the milk, which had been superheated by the blazing house. Everything else appeared fine. Furthermore, looking through small chests left in the cellar revealed more personal items such as a key, likely used on something that had burned away. Other items included a supply of horseshoes, eating utensils, and nails. Upon opening a more concealed chest, Tomako raised both her brows as a tied bag came into sight. Just as she had both hoped and feared, the bag jingled with the sound of many coins once held; thus began the inner conflict.

No verbal reaction was given, not even a thought as she held the bag of coins. Given the size of the bag, it was unlikely that this was the family's entire wealth but perhaps emergency funds. Just from holding the bag, Tomako predicted three or four hundred coins. Here Tomako was skeptical and concerned with the morality of taking off with these funds. Doing so would have her coming home with almost, if not more than, one thousand coins. If this didn't please her father, she could do literally nothing to please the man. On the other hand, she was a woman with a high-value system of religious honor, and this would be taking away money from an old family friend.

The Imperyean examined the dirty bag while biting her finger, a contest brewing in her mind on what to do. *I could take this money with me and ensure a huge profit. The Swatslandic would not dare remove us from the island if they saw over a thousand coins come from mere farmers…* She then looked at the second factor, that is the food she discovered. *I could load what's left here onto the carriage and conduct additional trade at the marketplace. I could return home with well over one thousand and five hundred coins..!*

Tomako closed her eyes with closed teeth. She was almost sweating at the mere thought of bringing home such immense wealth. With so much extra cash, the family could float the idea of making some major home expansion plan, if not acquire more terrain. This was all assuming she capitalizes on the situation.

*I'm no better than a looter if I strip this place of what remains…* Tomako raised her brows with a slight frown. *But, then again, the family is unlikely to ever return here. If I don't seize these things, someone else will…*

The obvious decision for just about anyone in Tomako's position would be to take what remains and make a profit. For her, there was a moral barrier keeping her from doing so. This was soon resolved though as she came up with a perfect solution.

Her trek to Boshtang continued. The decision was ultimately made to pocket the bag of coins she discovered, thus guaranteeing about a thousand coins in profit after completing the transaction with Otomo. Not only did she pocket the money, she also filled the carriage with a cellar worth of goods. She did not intend on selling these extra goods, however. The stockpile of goods the Swatslandic failed to discover would be used to resolve another ongoing issue which didn’t pertain to the Angel House.

She soon drove the carriage through the streets of Boshtang, and like before, she was met with an unsettling number of giant hornets. Tomako's carriage was overflowing due to the additional looted goods, so much that one could even mistake her for a military supply unit. To her horror, this would indeed catch the idea of a Swatslandic guard and his men. By his order, two pikemen blocked the road while he ordered the Angel to a halt.

*I’m making a bad habit of socializing with the Swatslandic…*

“Halt right there, maiden.”

Tomako responded, “I have halted.”

The moment to follow had the guard examining Tomako, then several of the goods contained in her carriage. The overflowing contents had him rather paranoid about the woman’s intentions.

“This is a lot of produce…” he said with a suspicious gaze. “More than enough to feed an insurrection, I would say.”

Tomako calmly replied, “In no way is that accurate. I am here to sell these goods for profit.”

“Really…”

“Yes.”

He looked to the carriage’s contents again, “And I suppose you’re to tell me that this was all produced by a single farm.”

“Yes… no.” Tomako widened her eyes. “I mean to say most of it is from our farm. Some of it is from a friend.”

“A friend?”

“Yes.”

“Hm…”

While Tomako’s story made little sense, the guard still saw her as innocent enough to let go. He ordered the pikemen to clear the way for Tomako, who resumed her trip into the marketplace. Despite being innocent, the woman still closed her eyes and exhaled in relief.

Once more present at his shack, Otomo sat patiently either for Tomako or a customer. At last, his patience was rewarded, for Tomako soon arrived with a bountiful supply of fresh goods. Under such fiscally desperate times, there was no greater relief for him than to have a refilled stock. The Angel family was his hero on this day, for he knew that another three or four months of prosperity would follow.

“Tomako, how wonderful it is to see you again!”

He exited his shack and assisted the woman in tying the two horses to a hitching post. While doing so, he examined the stacked goods within the carriage. Where Tomako saw product, Otomo saw pure gold. His lack of attention to tying led the man to accidentally tie his own finger down. He failed to notice this until Tomako came around to help.

“Easy there…” she insisted.

Once free, Otomo grasped his waist and blinked in astonishment. “I apologize. I was not expecting so much content.” In slight puzzlement, he scratched his bald head. “Did I miscalculate how much -”

Tomako placed a hand on the carriage and explained, “You did not miscalculate. I brought along additional fish, eggs, grain, and smoked beef.”

Otomo grunted with immense surprise before looking at Tomako with shaking eyes. “That is wonderful. However, I appropriated seven hundred coins, per our agreement.” Tomako met his gaze and nodded. “I would need to greatly alter the amount, which could take much time to do. I'm a salesman, not a mathematician.”

With great joy, Tomako held her hand up in refusal, “Worry not, Otomo. I offer the entire carriage plus the extra goods for the same price of seven hundred coins.”

“S- Surely, you jest. Beef is an expensive commodity in its own; smoked beef is an entirely different product. It is popular among both peasantry and nobility.”

The woman bowed, “To give away the goods is of no consequence to my family. The goods should serve you well given your situation.”

“Indeed…” he muttered. Part of him wanted to reject her noble offer and allow her to keep the surplus goods. But as a man of trade, this was impossible to do. “I shall, at the very least, reward you with the original payment of seven hundred and *fifty*. Fifty coins can do you many favors nowadays.”

Tomako closed one eye and hummed with a smirk. “I'll take it!”

“Splendid! Now, if you could help me move the milk into my cellar, I will let you ride off.”

“Alright,” Tomako brought her hand out. “May I have my money first?”

Digging into his pocket, Otomo tossed the woman the promised bag of coins.

“There you are. Seven hundred coins for the gracious offering of supplies.”

Tomako bounced the coins in her hand before raising a brow, “What of the fifty additional coins?”

“Hm?” In response to his questioning hum, Tomako lowered her brows with an almost tempered grin. Otomo soon darted his eyes left and right before winking. “Ah, that's right…”

Pocketing both his hands, the man walked back into his shack to collect the additional fifty coins he had just promised. Having known Otomo for years now, Tomako was aware of his slippery deals. Though he at times seemed to value coins over his own life, Otomo was a man of honor just as she was most times. Just not when money is involved.

A short time later, Tomako and Otomo completed the transferring of milk from the carriage into his cellar. While putting milk in a cool cellar was the most typical method of prolonging its expiration, Otomo enjoyed the rare pleasure of ice, which would further prolong the process.

Before leaving, Tomako would spend a few minutes inside his home. In front of her was a large hanging scroll Otomo had just opened, revealing a complex piece of art.

“It's wonderful. Very exotic,” the woman complimented. “Is this by chance depicting Central Kushyrin?”

“It is the holy peninsula, controlled by the Krucifixans.”

Tomako stuck her tongue out in response, “Krucifix? Otomo, my friend, what would possibly compel you to paint a Krucifixan scene?”

“Hardly. One as pious as you should know that the peninsula is rightfully Imperyean, not Krucifixan. Therefore, it is a holy site painting I’ve made.” Tomako saw this as more than valid. “The Forty-Seventh Krucif-Imperyean War. That night we landed on the shores of the peninsula but with very little success. I knew our invasion like with the forty-some previous wars would find us retreating to Imperyea without success. I spent that night painting what I saw, a beautiful Imperyean land controlled by uncivilized infidels.”

Tomako hummed, “I imagine it will be quite some time before you have an opportunity to try for the holy land again.”

The former samurai lowered his eyelids, “I fear you are right. First, we must rid our country of the Swatslandic, then we will rise from the ashes and crush the Krucifixans once and for all.” Tomako looked away while chewing on her lip, leaving the man to have more sour thoughts about their Swatslandic masters. He soon shrugged. “But, on the other hand, that also means no more futile wars with Krucifix. I think I speak for most when I say that, given our current situation, war with Krucifix should be the least of our concerns.”

A nod of heavy agreement was given. Tomako knew very little about the system of warfare, but she knew enough about Krucifix—legendary rival kingdom of Imperyea—to know that there was no reason for Imperyea to start over forty wars with them. Krucifix, northwest of Kushyrin, controlled a large peninsula and also encompassed parts of inner Asia. Imperyean justification to conquer the peninsula derives from its religion, Puritonism, which holds that it is the lawful territory of the gods. The conquest of the peninsula was more of a focus for Puritonist males, however. A female like Tomako was far more interested in the Puritonist belief that a *Perfectly Honorable One* will one day be birthed. This is perhaps where Tomako and Otomo best differed in theology.

Otomo soon faced the woman and asked, “May I offer you some tea?”

She returned a smile, “No thank you. I've had my tea for the day.” A somewhat serious face came over her. “With all due respect, I must leave. But first, I'd like to know something.”

“Know what?”

“Might you know of someone in Boshtang who can assist me in this farming ordeal?” Otomo quirked his mouth, waiting for a clearer question. “The Swatslandic are shutting down farms and sending families to Svatpa based on how well the farms are doing. I would like assurance that our livelihood is safe.”

In silence, Otomo scratched his chin and offered an extensive hum. “Well, I happen to have an unbelievably convenient answer…”

“Really?”

“Indeed. Across the marketplace and near the Swatslandic barracks is a small shack, much like mine, that contains information on properties of Kushyrin. It is there for Swatslandic officers but also available to the public. The man there may help you.”

“Convenient is right.”

Otomo's expression became grimmer, “I should also tell you now though, that having you ask me such a question is somewhat of a nightmare.” Tomako dropped her humored face in place of fear. “I do not hate the Swatslandic simply because of their military control over us, I also despise Swatsland because they are inept.”

“Please, explain.”

The man put on an even darker expression, “Imperyea has been made their economic test subject. We, the people, are an experiment. They strike down our farms because they wish to ‘moderate’ our economy—a senseless idea. They enslave the families of those farms and put them to work on Svatpean farms—more senselessness. And because of the drastic reduction in Imperyean farms, honest hardworking folks such as myself are put into a crisis. With the Swatslandic essentially setting a limit on how much agriculture our land produces, we are *forced* to purchase goods made in Svatpa. The Swatslandic have enforced a mad experiment upon us, and we are seemingly powerless for the time.”

Tomako crossed her arms, “Surely, Swatsland will relax their power over us once they realize the failings of this supposed experiment.”

“Perhaps, Tomako. But not today, not tomorrow, and likely not the day after that. The Swatslandic will control us until all of Imperyea is ablaze in an uncontrollable fire, in which case, we will regain our independence, but with it, the damages.” He turned away from her and sighed. “I simply fear for your safety, child. One such as yourself, beyond talented in what you do, will be greatly desired by the evil crown of Swatsland. To have you producing such amazing horses in Svatpa is a dream of theirs, I so badly fear.”

The woman's face became ever more desperate, “B- But we draw in great wealth and bring the people much needed food. Our removal, with all due respect, would be tragic for Kushyrin.” Otomo gave her a disheartened smirk. “We are one of the greats of Kushyrin, the Swatslandic have no reason to remove us.”

“Do you not understand?”

“No…” she confessed.

Very slowly, Otomo emphasized, “Balance. The Swatslandic desire *balance* among Imperyean farmers.” His lecture wasn’t doing anything for the woman just yet, but she was drawing in a conclusion very slowly. “The plan calls for each island of Imperyea to have farms of equal or similar productivity.”

Tomako acknowledged this with a nod, “Yes, that is why they are abducting farming families of lesser performance.”

“Yes, yes. Now, who else must be targeted for a balance to be reached?”

“Well, logically, if you remove the poor farmers from the islands, to create a balance you will need to also remove the -”

Tomako’s eyes flashed open in an instant. The next thing she knew, she was looking down at the immense bag of wealth in her hand.

The merchant commented, “I think you should speak with the man I was telling you about.”

Trembling in fear, Tomako made way for the entrance, saying on the way there, “O- Otomo, I must leave at once.”

“I grant you the lone brown stallion behind my shack. I will return your carriage and pick up the cows in the coming days.”

Tomako was too frantic and distracted to properly see him away, she instead rushed outside with a mouth of great shock left open. She now understood what had to be done. To retain their prosperity in Kushyrin, Tomako would need to kiss the feet of the Swatslandic and beg to remain on the island. Heavier taxes, larger output of produce, direct supplies to Swatslandic soldiers; no matter the case, Tomako was intent on conducting such negotiations on her own term. Her father would want to disown her for dealing with the Swatslandic, but these were desperate times and perhaps the only way of keeping their place in Imperyea.

As usual, a temporary trade had been made between Tomako and Otomo. She would return home on a lone horse belonging to him, meanwhile, Otomo would hold onto the carriage and two horses until fully unloaded. Soon he would return the carriage to the Angel homestead and take back the one horse he was lending her. Plus, he needed to come acquire the livestock that Tomako promised him, as per their trade agreement.

Before heading home though, Tomako rushed through the marketplace of Boshtang, where the poor begged, the rich spent and invested, and the middleman survived.

Tomako was carrying a lot of cash on her at this point, but she had no intention of spending on anything. As much as she would love to bump into Takeda Nagano and impress him with wealth, there were far greater matters to attend to. If she were to drop any coins, it would be into the palm of a Swatslandic officer in exchange for assurance that the Angel House may continue living their regular lives. As Otomo instructed, she was heading in direction of the Swatslandic barracks where the farm burning men she feared most would reside. This was the situation where she would be best advised to wear her kimono dress, though she was far too stressed to consider this at the time. She was going in with her common brown laborer clothes.

A shack of fairly large size was positioned meters away from the barracks, alongside several other minor Swatslandic services. Tomako squinted at the shack, quickly frustrating herself. The structure was labeled by text, though it was the portrayal of a hoe and shovel that led her to believe this was the intended destination.

The Swatslandic man working the structure was removing colored pins from a crudely drawn map of Kushyrin. It was the sound of Tomako's horse that had him stopping and turning around. The woman dropped in front of the shack with scared eyes.

“Peace from Great Swatslandia,” he greeted.

“I don’t understand…” Tomako replied.

“A fine day for a stroll and a spotless day for hunting. At least, were it not for these accursed hornets.”

Tomako took a respectful bow, “Peace from Great Imperyea.” Her intention here was good but came off as offensive to the man. “I come seeking information on the status of a certain farm.”

“Ah, you've come to the right place. I presume that, like everyone else, you're a tad bit intimidated by the agricultural displacement edict.” Tomako's soulless face confirmed this. “Before I delve into this matter, I should relax your mind in regard to the displacing of farmers. Critics of Swatsland choose vague and harsh terminology such as ‘slavery’ to define this practice. We prefer ‘promotion,’ for we are giving farmers of Imperyea a prestigious opportunity to come live in mainland Swatsland, the greatest realm to ever exist.”

With half nervousness, half interest, Tomako inquired, “A promotion?”

“Quite so!” he said with optimism. “Imperyean farmers work the fields of Swatsland while enjoying exotic fruits and vegetables never before seen in Asia. The government provides free housing, you enjoy the right to your traditional faith, and you are exempted from warfare. Whether one is good or bad at farming, this is an opportunity any sane person should crave.”

“Hm...” Even so, Tomako brushed this off as a trap covered in frosting. “I come forth looking for assurance that the Angel family is excluded from these promotions. We pay taxes, deliver goods, produce splendid horses, and amass fine wealth. My family is a critical asset to the island of Kushyrin yet with only a single child running the farm, considered very humble as well. You see, for these reasons, my family is best situated here in Imperyea forever, not Swatsland.”

“You don't say...”

He turned to the crudely drawn map, where just about every farm on the island was posted by a pin. Red pins represented poor income, yellow represented average, green represented bountiful farms. Under each pin was a piece of paper containing the dynasty name of that farm.

“Very well. What is the name of your family?”

“Angel.”

“An-jell...” he repeated. “And how might one spell this last name, dear?”

Tomako froze with no expression on her face. The man stared at her for an awkward ten seconds or so without a response. Soon enough, he sighed and turned back to the map.

“Yes, of course,” he said with another sigh. “Most of us have come to expect retardation from Imperyean citizens, especially in terms of words.”

With a smile, Tomako raised her finger and explained, “I believe it is spelled in the same fashion as divine winged human beauties.”

The man took a moment to grin before searching the map for ‘Angel.’ He chuckled for the first few seconds, still surprised by her ability to spell out her last name without using letters. Given a minute or so of searching, the man’s humored expression would disappear.

“Angel?” He looked again but this time only skimmed. “I cannot seem to find your family on the map.”

“Oh, no, we are very much on the map. We live about ten hills south of here.”

“...ten… hills south, you say...”

Starting from Boshtang, he dragged his finger down at a very slow pace. Soon his finger passed by a hole in the map left by a pin—the Tochowa residence. He stopped here and quirked his mouth, wondering if this was the home she spoke of. Below this hole would be another hole, south of that, a low-income farm.

“I see the Shion-tih farm.”

“No, no, no!” Tomako placed a hand on the counter and pointed to the map. “The Shion-tih family reside south of us.”

He took one final look at the map, working with this information. “You do understand direction, correct?”

The Imperyean placed a hand over her heart, “Sir, while I may be perfectly illiterate, I could point north even in a blizzard.”

“I understand where your farm should be, but it’s not there.” With a helpless shrug, he faced her and claimed, “There is no Angel family on the map.”

“Wha—a!? That cannot be, we are a renowned farming dynasty in Kushyrin.”

“You speak to me now, a free woman, so…” He wrote down the family name and once more shrugged. “I will have this sorted out soon. I apologize for the inconvenience.”

She lowered her eyelids and sighed, “I see. May I at least have the assurance that my family may stay here in Imperyea?”

He lowered his eyelids and looked away from her for a moment, soon giving her a simple response, “Okay.”

“Oh, what a relief,” she said with a smile.

With nothing more to add, Tomako mounted her horse and departed without hesitation. The man remained there, watching as the Angel girl took off like lightning. Even to this Swatslandic man of the military, he was dumbfounded by the occurrence. For the sake of personal interest, he took one last look at the map, starting from the small hole representing the burned Tochowa farm. With another hand, he pointed to the existing Shion-tih farm. Very carefully, he brought one hand north and the other south, ultimately, bringing both fingertips together at a single hole in the map.

This made clear to him that the Angel House did once exist on the map but not anymore. Yet, Tomako’s presence proved that no such displacement had occurred. It ultimately left him redirecting his attention to the marketplace area, but alas, the Angel girl had disappeared.

The evening was approaching ever so quickly as Tomako rode. Back home she still had the evening tasks to do, which were essential considering her parents did the morning tasks. Furthermore, Tomako had amassed a much larger quantity of coins than she had expected. This was more money for the Angels and Otomo could rest easy knowing he was blessed with a surplus of goods at no extra cost.

Even so, the day was not so bright for Tomako, at least not anymore. Within a mere day, the word ‘Swatslandic’ had been bouncing around the woman's head like never before. Not until now did the Swatslandic pose any significant concern to her life, but with her very livelihood on the line, she had no choice but to pay attention to politics now. Footprints around the farm, the displacing of farm families, Otomo's claim that Imperyea is the test subject for harsh experimental policies, and now the failure to identify the Angels on the map—leading farmers in Kushyrin.

In her mind, something was either very wrong or about to go very wrong. This was a family crisis in every sense.

*I need Takeda more than ever now. Perhaps his family riches could help save mine from a tragic fate…*

She did not like viewing Takeda Nagano in this way; she was attracted to the man, not the rich background from which he came. Yet she could not deny that wealth was a likely solution to the crisis. One way or another, the Swatslandic man she had recently spoken to gave her some degree of assurance that her family would be left alone. Whether he was serious was yet to be seen, but Tomako took his word as a contract.

This horse ride was anything but enjoyable; neither she nor the horse was enjoying the ride. Tomako was constantly grinding her teeth with mixed emotions and a panicked sweat building over her forehead. The horse was being subjected to a little more aggressiveness in that she was insisting on a consistent burst speed. This was especially problematic, for this horse had no relationship with her. A horse without a bond with its master was unpredictable.

At the rate Tomako was going, she had passed by the burned Tochowa farm within no more than an hour after leaving Boshtang. It was upon reaching the next hilltop that she finally forced an exhale, and thankfully, a break for the poor animal she was riding. For a moment, she hugged the animal and frowned.

“I'm sorry…” she wrapped her arms under the creature’s neck and repeated, “I’m sorry…”

The two faced the sun on the border of the evening. For the sake of the horse’s well-being, she felt it necessary to try and calm down. Her frustration was derived by fear, but all in all, there was no reason to rush home. All that awaited her were nightly chores, dinner, and probable lectures.

The woman closed her eyes and exhaled one last time. *I mustn't worry. The Swatslandic buy our produce all the time from Otomo. Even they need us around...* Somewhat paranoid, she looked back at the charred remains of the Tochowa farm. This somehow restored some comfort. *Besides, they recently removed that farm. Remove our farm as well and Northern Kushyrin will be faced with a possible food crisis...*

This and the fact the Swatslandic man gave her some assurance of safety was all she needed to consider for a clearer mind. She motioned the horse forward but treated the creature with more respect by pacing it more appropriately. This was Otomo's horse after all, not hers.

With her mind forced clean, Tomako delivered herself home with no further panics. She had to climb one last hill before officially reaching the homestead, and now that she was more comfortable, she viewed this as a perfect opportunity to do some free training for Otomo. She had already done much for him, putting this horse through a simple run along the hill and down to the stables would allow her to evaluate the horse's skills and talents thus far and give Otomo a free analysis.

Stopping by a tree, Tomako turned the mount toward the hill's ridge. A confident smirk came upon her.

“Alright, let's surprise the other horses with a fast appearance.”

Arching forward, Tomako put her legs back and took off. The horse dodged the surrounding trees and began its ascension of the hill, though they were more so running along the hill like a track. While moving at a decent speed, Tomako had been whipped by her own hair; she tried to fix this by shaking her chin.

As many more seconds passed, Tomako found herself nodding at the animal. *This is regular speed, but the stamina of this horse is spectacular. With a little training, this could very well become a champion racing horse...*

She was content with this early review of the animal. With a smile, she ordered the horse to climb up the hill, ready to pack things. Her nightly tasks awaited her...

“Race to the stable! Ride!”

The horse continued to climb up with no sign of stopping, Tomako's grin became larger as she further examined the stamina potential of this horse. She was easily amused by its perseverance and loyalty to a stranger.

“Go on, to the stable! Final stretch!” she cheered.

The effort put into climbing was good, but the actual climbing process lacking. Soon enough, they reached the top of the hill. With a pat on the rear, Tomako looked up at the homestead.

“We’re almost there, now, join the other horses in the -”

The woman's face froze as they descended the hill, for her greatest fears had been realized at last.

There were no horses. There was no stable.

There was no home.

With a soulless face, Tomako approached a collapsed and charred structure, destroyed so long ago that not a single ember remained burning. Fields were burnt to ash, the homestead looted, the livestock slaughtered and harvested, and the horses seized. She had only just left home hours ago, yet already there was nothing left.

The horse she was riding came to a full stop, right in front of a Swatslandic banner that waved ever so insultingly.

Not a word came from Tomako, who remained atop her horse without expression. Nothing but a trembling lip and darting eyes of shock; and as she gazes upon the taunting red fabric that stands before the destroyed home, everything had become abundantly clear to her.

The very life she led prior to this moment had burned away with the farm. For as it stood, she was no longer a farmer nor was she united by a family. She was alone in a world that grew crueler by the day.

As the sun prepared to rest, Tomako had no roof, no food, and no family to guide her. The only color came from the red Swatslandic banner, there to mark the downfall of the Angel farm, and there to slam a nail into Tomako’s heart…

To be continued...

**Chapter 1 <** **| > Chapter 3**

## Author Notes

#### Perfectly Honorable One

Originally, the Puritonist concept of the Perfectly Honorable One was not introduced until Chapter 33, but due to the great importance that this concept has on Tomako, as well as Imperyean women, I decided to go back and make Chapter 2 the new introduction to the concept. Consequently, while performing this change, I inserted much more religious content to the first few chapters in general, as Tomako's religious practices were not as present in the original early chapters, but become a major part of her character as the story developed.

#### The Two-Part Temptation

I wrote Chapter 1 to be the sole episode of the first season that would have Tomako just living day-to-day life, as I felt people would by Chapter 2 want to see the journey begin. At the time, the events of early Chapter 3 were supposed to make up the ending of Chapter 2, but as this would bring Chapter 2 well beyond 10,000 words, I judged this to be impossible, as the 'two-parter' (10,000+ word chapters), I felt, had not been earned yet so early into the story. As such, I reluctantly agreed to leave Chapter 2 on the suspenseful cliffhanger.

## Chapter Illustration

This illustration depicts Tomako as she contemplates over the charred remains of a neighboring farm she had witnessed the burning of one chapter prior. Unlike the previous chapter illustration, this one showed off more body, a more defined background, and greater details in general.

This was the first time that *Garry's Mod* was used to assist in the creation of an illustration. The rubble was designed through blank plates in this program, and modified using Inkscape, and then finalized with Photoshop.