To Slaughter A Lamb

Chapter 1:

I was summoned by my father earlier than usual. The sun was not even kissing the morning sky when I was awoken. Stars shone brightly through the windows still. I bowed deeply as I greeted my father.

"Good morning, my little lamb," my father spoke softly. His voice had an edge to it that peaked my anxiety.

"What is it father?" I asked, taking a seat in front of him.

"I regret to inform you that you must flee today," he said with his eyes fixed on the carpet we sat on. "There have been whispers of an attack on our city. I must see that you are unharmed."

"Father," I spoke, my throat suddenly dry. "I must fight. It is our duty to protect our people. I must stay."

"You won't fight," he said sternly, then his toned softened again. "I can't lose you, too. Not like your mother." I looked down, feeling almost as ashamed as I did sad.

He cleared his throat, then continued: "I have found a suitable escort for you. Someone I trust will understand you and hide your identity. He will take to the mountains, where you will hide until this conflict has calmed down once again."

With pleading eyes, I looked up again. "Pray tell this isn't one of your samurai who beg for my hand."

My father shook his head. "He is no samurai, but he is a strong warrior." I nodded, the realization hitting me that I would be gone for and indefinite amount of time with a stranger."Don't be saddened, child, you will return before you know it," my father assured. "Now, go pack your belongings, and pack lightly. You will leave once the sun rises."

I left without saying another word, and returned to my room. I removed all unnecessary items from my person: my hair pins, my makeup, the lavish kimono I adorned. I traded my silk and jewels for a sage green kimono that once belonged to my mother, the first item she purchased once she arrived from her homeland.

  I packed my bag as well, with extra clothing and toiletries, but nothing excessive. The only luxury I allowed myself was another item of my late mother's: a black velvet necklace with a golden charm. I never took the choker off. Before I left my room, I nearly forgot to place a scarf over my hair, covering my most distinctive feature. Father told me of a time where mother was able to roam freely, I don't see a return to that any time soon, though I prayed one day I might be able to roam my homeland freely.

Behind the palace, father waiteed with a stranger wearing a kasa and a katana on his hip. I took this to be the trusted warrior my father told me of. I neared them cautiously. I had never been outside of the palace's perimeter in daylight. I was suddenly afraid, yet I pushed that fear aside.

"My lamb," my father nearly whispered, grasping my hand. In his other hand I saw a familiar shape. He held out two daggers with leather sheaths. "I trust you won't need these, but if worst comes to worst, you know how to use them."

I looked the daggers. They looked larger in my hands then in my father's, they always had. I placed them safely at the bottom of my bag. I bowed one last time towards him.

"Thank you father." He said nothing, but I saw a small smile on his face as he bowed towards me, which meant more.

I dared not look behind me as the warrior and I walked from the palace. Mother had told me of a myth of a woman who looked behind her as she left the underworld, turning to salt as she did. I feared the same would happen if I looked behind me.

The man and I walked together in silence. He seemed to be the stoic type, and that was just fine with me. The sun rose and then fell almost as quickly that day. I felt as though I was floating through time, barely aware of my surroundings. The roads we walked seemed to pass us by, and not the other way around.

"Y/n," the warrior spoke finally as the sky turned orange. "Come this way." He gestured towards a little inn where we would stay the night.

The innkeeper brought us to our quarters: a small room with nothing but a mat to sleep on.  The warrior let out an audible sigh as he he put his belongings on the ground. Without a word, he took off his kasa and sat on the mat.

"Sir," I spoke as I sat in front of him, trying to keep a modest distance between us. "May I ask your name? We have not spoken all day." He looked at me through his glasses.

"Mizu," he answered plainly.

"Mizu..." I spoke, his name was like poetry on my tongue as I bowed. "Thank you for guarding me." He looked at, saying nothing and nodded. I tilted my head. "Sir, if I may ask, why do you wear those glasses?"

"I suppose you're bound to find out," he said, taking them off and placing them gently on the ground. He looked at me with eyes of clear blue water. I knew then why my father chose him as my bodyguard. I removed my veil, then undid my hair from it's tight updo. My curls cascaded down my shoulders and back. No one except my parents has ever seen my hair down.

Mizu's eyes widened in realization.

"We're alike, Mizu."