where you go i go

Seventeen

Two-hundred and seventy-four years had passed since the end of the war, and Nayoko found herself in a position not so unfamiliar. She had turned back to her roots and the world she had grown up on, only now it was without Gregor by her side (her father, her son). Slipping back into the mask of her first life was not so difficult, and well, no one from then was still alive anyway.

When she decided to leave the only continent she had ever called home and travel the vast seas to the New World, she hadn't had much of a plan other than to escape her own thoughts and memories. What she found was a bountiful land with its own history and enough space that she could travel it for decades and never be recognised. Unfortunately for her, what little money she had was not accepted currency on the new continent, so she began picking up small tasks and picking off bandits as she travelled.

Her battle prowess preceded her, and eventually, one enthusiastic farm boy looking for a taste of adventure became two, and before long she was travelling with a merry band of mercenaries across the continent. It worked out to be more convenient than she expected. The soldiers were genial with her and respected her greatly, but none seemed to have the desire to break through her stoic shell. As was the way with things, one would fall in love with a pretty girl in a town they passed through and would leave the caravan, or come across a business venture that was too good to pass up. Sure, there were rumours about Nayoko's seemingly endless youthfulness, but none were around long enough to really question it.

Her renown had led her to the point where she and her band had been hired for temporary surveillance of the capital's parliament as it readied itself for the inauguration of a new, controversial leader. She cared little for the politics of it all, in a way that reminded her more of her father than she cared to think about, but the pay was good and it gave her an opportunity to explore the nooks and crannies of the opulent city. Nayoko had thought it prudent to survey the city for historical monuments that could be potential targets during protests, and also wanted to scope out any of the high points that were perfect hiding places for assassins.

She had not, however, expected to find her.

She came across her in a grand old library, her gold-red hair tied back and bangs long, framing her face. At first, she didn't recognise her, saw her as just another face in a faceless crowd, but when she approached she saw the familiar glint in her eye and a scar that trailed across her throat.

Nayoko stood there, simply staring. Like a ghost from a past life, yet still breathing. Still warm. Still alive.

When Tanya lifted her head up from the paper she was staring at, she looked just as shocked when it registered just who it was that was staring back at her.

"Your hair, it's..." She stopped with a gesture. Nayoko instinctively reached up and touched her braid.

"No barbers among mercenaries," Nayoko shrugged.

"It's different."

A pause, the air filling with a familiar tension.

It was like she was unable to move. She couldn't find it in her to move towards Tanya and speak, yet something was holding her back from turning away at the same time.

"When I heard about a mercenary group led by a woman who went by the name Yoko, I had wondered," she commented as she continued to mark her ledger. Tanya didn't look up as she worked, and there was a tension in her shoulders that she hadn't seen since they had first met.

"I didn't think you would ever leave the mainland," Nayoko admitted.

"I thought it prudent to settle my affairs and take an extended break."

"I see. Well, it was good to see you again..." she stopped, leaving her sentence hanging as she had no idea what to call her now.

"Roan."

"Roan, the storybook artist," she wondered aloud. She had seen the books in the store windows, bright and colourful fables that had charmed the children of the city. She never gave it a second thought.

She shrugged slightly at the comment, and for a while they simply stared at each other in silence. It made Nayoko's skin crawl, and she turned, ready to flee and forget this ever happened.

"Yoko," Tanya called out. Nayoko stopped and closed her eyes on a deep breath, ready to face the other. When she turned around she had finally stood up from the desk, and as she rounded it to walk up to her Nayoko felt the echo of a long lost memory seep into her skin.

"Yes?"

"It would please me greatly if you would keep in contact, in the future. My sister misses you greatly and has often wondered after your safety. It would bring her peace of mind if you would," Tanya said stiltedly.

"I –" She stopped, her tongue heavy in her mouth. "I'll... I'll consider it."

Her chin dropped down to her chest in a half nod.

"That's... all I can ask of you. Goodbye, then, Yoko."

"Yes. Goodbye."

When she left, she told herself she could forget it. That she would forget it.

The dream ended when one of her men, with ashen blond hair that fell in front of his pretty blue eyes (so familiar), got down on one knee and proposed to her, promised to take care of her until the end of their days, fighting side by side.

She had told him she would consider it, but when the mercenary group woke to the rising sun the next day, she was already gone.

Later, as she waited to board a boat set to return to the mainland, she twirled her growing hair around her finger and looked back, Nayoko wondered if her letter would ever reach her.