A five-year old girl stood at the ship’s bow with her eyes on the island. Mighty waves crashed against the hull but failed to wrest her focus. The island’s name eluded her. It felt familiar—almost important. Yet she could not remember it. A profound sense of melancholy enveloped her, as the island disappeared from the vermillion horizon.
A chill wind blew through her scarlet hair, accompanied by another wave. She huddled beneath her blanket. The southern constellations were embroidered onto her blanket. Their names eluded her as well, but curiously she felt drawn to the dragon constellation.
“Makoto?”
The word sounded strange. It didn’t mean anything to her, but it begged a response.
She turned her head to behold a man in glittering armor towering over her. The axe strapped to his back gave an unnatural glint in the crepuscular light. The blade reflected the sky’s red hues, giving it a blood-stained appearance.
Equal parts trepidation and trust dueled within her. The trepidation at his imposing form beseeched her to run from him—jump in the sea if she must. Yet she recognized the melancholy in his deep blue eyes. They weren’t the eyes of an enemy. The trust suggested she take his hand and hide in his shadow.
She chose not to run but didn’t approach him either. “Makoto, sir? Is that my name?”
“Aye. A good Avalon name.”
“Avalon?” She felt that same sense of familiar importance. “Was that the island?”
“Aye.” He bent his knees to meet her gaze. “What do you remember, Makoto?”
Makoto’s brow furrowed. “I… remember words. Colors. My numbers.”
“But not your name. Do you remember your family?”
Makoto closed her eyes. She tried her hardest, but her mind couldn’t conjure her mother’s face. There was nothing to see but haze. A soft sound—like a whisper or gentle breeze chimed in her ears.
“Ole turvassa, rakkaani.”
Warmth blossomed in her breast. She didn’t understand the words, but they were pleasant all the same.
“No, sir.”
“What is the last thing you remember?”
She focused once more but could see nothing but fuzzy shapes. “I can’t see very well.”
“It is hard to see with your eyes closed.”
Indignation reddened her cheeks. “I know that!” she snapped. “I meant I can’t see in my head. It’s too foggy.”
A gravelly chuckle rumbled in the man’s throat. “We jest, Makoto. But if your eyes are blinded, perhaps your other senses will remember.”
Makoto silenced her frustration at the man's teasing. She focused on her senses in turn. She heard the soft voice once more, and the pleasant warmth returned. “I hear a voice, though I can’t understand the words.” Her nose wrinkled. “There's... this smell. Like dying metal.” The warm feeling drained from her, and dread prickled her skin. “I don't like it.”
She extended her arms. “I'm holding something.” She sank to her knees. “It's heavy—” She winced at the sudden chill in her fingertips. “And it’s cold.”
She sniffled and tugged at the hems of her blanket. “I taste something salty and wet. I don't like it either.” She opened her eyes, blinking away the wetness. “The next thing I remember is watching the island from this boat.”
“M-hmm.” Understanding rumbled in his throat. “Then I suppose you don’t recognize us, Makoto?”
She studied the man’s rugged features. His golden hair ran long and wild in contrast to his well-groomed beard. His thin smile felt empty compared to his sunken eyes. He looked tired, pensive, and, alas, unfamiliar.
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, sir. Should I know you?”
“Most everyone does.” He touched the small object on his head. “We are Emperor of the land across the sea. You shall be our princess from this evening onward.”
The words sounded important, but Makoto didn’t quite understand them. “A princess? What is that?”
He stroked his beard. “It is a position granted only to our daughters. We have a saying in Kauneus: Beauty in Strength. A princess is someone who exhibits both in her character. We have high expectations of our children but know you shall exceed them.” He offered an open hand.
“I’m to be your daughter?” She stared at his hand. The trepidation quieted but still urged caution. “Did I have a father before you?”
“Aye.”
“He’s agreed to this?”
“He chose to acquiesce.”
Makoto’s eyes fell once more upon the axe. The crimson glow faded, as gathering clouds blocked the light. It felt less threatening. Still, she doubted she had the choice to deny the emperor’s offer.
“We suppose you will ask of your mother next.”
She nodded hesitantly.
“She entrusted you to us. She is a...” His voice trailed off as he glanced at the horizon. “She was our dear friend.”
Something wet struck Makoto’s head. She tilted her head back in time for a raindrop to splash against her nose. Raindrops dripped from her new father’s eyes to his beard. Her heart ached at the sight, though she didn’t know why.
Makoto silenced her trepidation. She took his hand; her small fingers disappeared within his own. “Shall we get out of the rain?”
“Buh.” He stood up and threw his cape over her shoulders. “We shall. Can you walk?”
She walked in a circle without leaving the cape’s protection.
“Then let us be off.” He escorted her toward the portside doors. “The crew’s quarters and galley are below deck. You will share a room with us during the voyage—hmm?”
Makoto covered her stomach in a futile attempt to hide its growling. She smiled weakly at him. “I’m a bit hungry, sir.”
“So it seems. We’ll take you to the galley. And you will do well to not call us ‘sir’, Makoto. ‘Father’ shall do just fine.”
“I’ll do my best... Father.”
Makoto followed him down a slick staircase. Her foot slipped against the water, but her father’s hand kept her upright. She flushed but did her best to remain dignified as she finished her descent. Exhibit beauty alongside strength.
She stepped onto a marbled floor that split into three prongs. The first prong had several doors on either side of the walkway. “That’s the crew’s quarters, correct?”
“Correct.” He motioned to a second prong with a large metal door at the end of the hall “What do you suppose lies beyond this door?”
Makoto stepped forward. Her pricked ears heard a rhythmic grinding of metal and wail of steam. “Is it the ship’s heart?”
“The engine room,” he corrected. “But your intuition is accurate.”
She pointed toward the third prong’s double doors. “Which makes that the galley.” She raised her head expectantly.
“Well done, Makoto.” He beckoned her to follow him toward the galley. “We doubt Athena could identify all three despite numerous trips on a ship.”
Makoto grimaced at yet another unfamiliar name.
“Fret not, Makoto, you will come to know her. She is our eldest daughter and your sister.”
Her grimace didn’t go away. Having a sister felt familiar, as so many other things had. Her inability to remember felt like reaching into a cloud of darkness. She knew there was something important therein, but she couldn’t grasp it.
“Could you tell me about my sister?”
“Sisters, Makoto. You currently have two: Athena and Olivia. Our wife is pregnant with twins. She tells us to expect a boy and girl: Ludwig and Amelia.”
These names didn’t hold the same lost familiarity. Makoto relished the feeling of curiosity without frustration. “What are my sisters like?”
He took a moment before answering. “Olivia is a quiet girl now. She spends most days in her atelier creating art. Athena is rambunctious to a fault. Not unlike us at that age. She’ll spoil you if you let her.”
Makoto giggled. Athena sounded fun and Olivia interesting. She hoped to acclimate quickly. “And your wife,... should I call her ‘Mother’? What is she like?”
They stopped before the swinging doors. “Isabella is a woman unlike any other. We are lucky she humored our proposal to be our empress. As for calling her mother, we’ll leave that decision to her. Enough talk, Makoto.” He stepped aside and motioned toward the door. “Your dinner awaits.”
She eagerly pushed through the doors and stumbled into the galley. Several pairs of eyes fell upon her. A few of them regarded her enthusiasm with amusement and returned to their meals. But Makoto saw the contempt in most of their gazes.
Trepidation returned with fervor. The eyes of a dozen birds of prey and vipers blazed at her. She felt smaller than she already was, more vulnerable. She gingerly stepped back under her new father’s cloak.
He gently patted her head. “Do not let them intimidate you, Makoto. You are their princess now. They will not harm you so long as we are near. Do not stray from our sight. Understand?”
Makoto didn’t move. “Why do they look at me like that? Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” he said quickly. He once again met her at eye level. “You have done nothing to deserve their scorn. They are wounded—grieving.”
“What happened?”
He sighed. “We allied with Avalon years ago. Her High Priestess preyed upon our trust to lead us into a trap.” He rose to his feet and ushered her forward. “Please, forgive them their anger, Makoto. They lost several friends today.”
One woman with two missing teeth spat in a spittoon before turning away. Another man with silky raven hair twisted his knife into a slab of rare meat. She sensed the sadness hidden in their anger.
If I am to be their princess, I must show both strength and beauty. She swallowed her unease to project strength. She walked from the shadow of his cloak. She measured her steps to show beauty.
“Did you lose a friend besides my mother?”
“Aye. She was...” He shook his head. “She’d be furious if we delayed dinner to reminisce. Pick your meal. We’ll talk your ear off while you eat.”
Makoto didn’t waste time on a retort lest her stomach embarrass her a second time. She grabbed a plate decorated with pink and red flowers from a stack. She approached a long table with two large containers of food.
The bowl on the left consisted of a red meat, carrot, onion and potato stew. The plate on the right offered a large grey fish encrusted with breadcrumbs, garlic, and grilled vegetables. Several chunks of the fish’s guts had been taken, and it was missing an eye.
Makoto scooped part of the fish onto her plate along with a small helping of stew, keeping her portions light to avoid being rude.
“Are you sure that’s enough, Makoto?” the emperor asked.
“It’s plenty for me, thank you.” Her eyes swept over the room for an empty chair or table. “Where should we sit?”
“Not in here. We’ll take you to our favorite spot on the ship.” He led her through the swinging doors and down the fork in the hall. He turned toward the engine room but stopped by a wall. “What do you see?”
Makoto studied the wall. It was smooth, grey, with paint cracking in the middle. She nudged the wall with her elbow and found nothing unordinary. “I see a wall, Father.”
“Buh.” He pushed his hand against the cracked paint. He slid the wall away, revealing a hidden chamber.
The chamber housed a long wooden table paired with twin chairs. The wood appeared aged but showed no signs of rot. Two ornate placemats with identical sets of silverware were placed before each chair. A crystal lantern shaped like a coiled dragon stood in the center of the table. The dragon’s breath lit the candles at the end of its claws.
There were three other objects on the table: a journal, a picture frame and a pendant. A shining, platinum, gem no smaller than her palm sat atop a silver chain. Her gaze fixated on it. Warmth surged within her at the mere sight of it. It called to her—beckoned her close.
Makoto stepped toward the gem. The light emanating from it glowed brighter with each step. If her memories remained in darkness, the shining gem could be the light to reveal them.
“Ole turvassa, rakkaani…”
She set down her tray and reached toward the pendant.
The emperor snatched it from the table. Frustration simmered in his eyes. “A princess does not pilfer her father’s property,” he growled.
Makoto winced, as the trepidation overwhelmed her. “I’m sorry, Father. I only…” Her hand reached for it once more.
The emperor caught her wrist. His grip was firm, but he didn’t hurt her.
“We will say this once, Makoto. Your mother meant a great deal to us. It will be our solemn pleasure to raise you in her stead. But you are our child now, not Avalon’s. Kauneus has no need for a disloyal princess. Do you understand?”
Makoto met her father’s eye. The frustration remained, but his earlier melancholy returned. Even at his scariest, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.
“Yes, Father. I apologize.”
He sighed. “As do we.” He released her hand and pocketed the pendant. “Please, sit. We hope not to disturb you further.”
The emperor sat near the journal, and Makoto sat by the picture frame.
A woman with hair and an eye like wild amber stared back at her. A long scar covered her right eye, while other scars and bruises decorated her face and exposed arms. She sat on a large chair with a lit cigar dangling from her grinning mouth. One hand tightly gripped what appeared to be a large two-pronged fork.
The other hand cradled a small boy. His bright smile revealed a gap between his front teeth. He held a similar fork-like object above his head. Makoto sensed its importance from the excitement shining in his eyes.
An older man, a young man and an older boy in white suits surrounded the chair. Makoto assumed them to be the woman’s husband and sons. The young man and older boy were as well-muscled as their mother.
The young man placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder and upon his breast. His intense expression and rigid stance imparted a sense of rigorous focus. The toad-faced boy standing in front of him appeared uncomfortable in his formal attire. He sneered at the rose corsage he crushed within his fist.
The older man stood behind them all. His scars appeared to be from shaving rather than combat. His sunken eyes and slouching posture showed a tired soul. Yet he smiled with the same energy as the boy with the gap in his teeth.
Makoto pointed to the woman. “Is she the friend you lost, Father?”
“Aye.” He stared into the flickering candlelight. “Those boys lost their father to illness three years ago. To lose Charlotte so soon—damn them!”
He slammed his hand against the table. The candelabra rattled violently but remained upright. Makoto’s bowl shook as well, splashing stew on her face. It wasn’t hot enough to scald, but it did sting.
“Forgive our outburst. Our emotions are still raw. We—we’ll clean you up.” He produced a handkerchief from his armor and wiped her face.
Makoto’s cheeks reddened once more, but she refrained from admonishing him. “What is her fork for? They appear too large for eating.”
“Buh,” he chortled. “Charlotte would have flogged you for such a blasphemous question. The jitte is her chosen weapon. Fitting for one who values defense over violence.”
He finished cleaning Makoto’s cheek. “Charlotte served as both sworn defender and our bosom friend. We played with her and her brother, Ser Langdarossa, as children. We assigned them to protect us, our sister, and for their children to protect our progeny.”
He pointed to the boy missing his front teeth. We intended on assigning Ephraim to Amelia or Ludwig. Tell us, Makoto, what do you think of him?”
Makoto scrutinized Ephraim. His small size and unfocused expression left her unimpressed compared to his brothers. “I can’t have this one?” She pointed to the man with the intense expression.
“Klaus?” He laughed. “Only if you wish to start a war with Athena for his attention. We assure you, Makoto, she will not play fair to keep him for herself.” He tapped the boy crushing the corsage. “Olivia might be persuaded to trade Bastien if you are so inclined.”
She glanced at his sneer and quickly shook her head. “His eyes are mean.”
“Then Ephraim it shall be. He’s a fragile soul like his father, but one day he’ll grow to be as strong as his mother. Be kind and patient with him, Makoto. We suspect he’ll need it.”
“We shall, Father. Kindness and patience are beauty, right?”
“Good girl,” he said with a pat to her head.
Makoto giggled. “Do you think he’ll be my ‘bosom friend’?”
He stroked his beard. “We cannot speak as to your compatibility. Olivia and Bastien mix like fire and ice. But if he inherited his mother’s devotion, he’ll be a perfect companion.”
Makoto appraised Ephraim once more. She looked past his unimpressive stature to focus on his joyous smile and wonder-filled eyes. He seems so kind. A strong guardian had merit, but a kindhearted friend was likely what she needed.
She didn’t know how long the haze would afflict her. How long until she could reveal the memories hiding in darkness. She hoped he’d be patient with her all the same.
***
Makoto snuck out of the room after her father drifted asleep. Clouded memories plagued her own attempts at sleep. She was tired, but her restlessness won out. She gripped the dragon candelabra and used it to guide her way onto the deck. The blanket draped across her shoulders kept her warm despite the chilling night wind.
She found several sailors congregating at the bow. Their footsteps and whispers distracted her, so she headed for the stern to stare at the star speckled sky in peace.
