I feel attention, or rather I have felt it for several hours in a row, and from time to time I am interested. But this time the source of the attention came to me specifically, and not alone. I move my head slowly, as if examining people, and out of the corner of my eye I spot the head of the clan, along with a middle-aged couple and a girl about nine years old.
All of them are dressed traditionally, and traditionally they don't stand out in any way: ordinary, unremarkable clothes, appearance, voices. The head of the clan approached me, stopping one step away from me, and I immediately had to stand up and bow to the old man (these are the maximum bows I do, no matter what, sometimes I just nod where people bend their backs), because he was with strangers to me, and I could not ignore the authority of the head — that would humiliate him in the eyes of others.
The clan chief was also tipsy, so he just waved his hand condescendingly at me and smiled contentedly. The people who came with him smiled stupidly, and the girl, like a doll, froze and stared blankly at the crowd. Is she on drugs? Or are they all? I felt a chill run down my spine — I had never seen such blank stares from children before.
— Arata-kun, this is the Mori family, our branch from Hokkaido. Goro-san, Mayuri-san, and their youngest daughter, Hana-chan, your bride. — The head of the clan continued to smile contentedly, but in his eyes there was no, no, and something flashed, something bad, not good for me.
The meaning of the last words did not reach me right away, and I paid little attention to them, but when I did, I fell into a stupor. True, not for very long. What the hell?!
— The bride? — My dry lips immediately seemed to go numb. — Why? — was the best I could say.
— Ho-ho-ho. — The old man laughed out loud. — You shouldn't be surprised, you come from an old family, you carry pure blood, and that can't be ignored. The elders care about the welfare of our family, so they choose a worthy couple for the youth to preserve the purity and strength of the blood. Hana-chan is a worthy party, her ancestors have served our family for many generations, and her strong blood has long glorified the temple that the Mori family cares for.
As I digest what I have heard, I catch a glimpse of the Mori couple fawning over the old man, praising their daughter and showering her with promises and gratitude for the honor. I did not like their self-deprecating behavior, and these people immediately became deeply unpleasant.
My soul is completely distraught. Trying to hold on to something, I looked at the girl. No, this is a complete mess: the child is completely motionless, she even blinks very rarely.
The eyes are absolutely empty, the face is expressionless, and it doesn't stand out for beauty, or at least cuteness. Absolutely, absolutely, without a doubt, an empty humanized doll. I don't even feel any special vitality in it. I was taught not only to feel magic, and with the help of a special trance even to see magical patterns, but also to feel the life force, the Yang energy.
So Yang is not only a physical, physical embodiment, but also the desire to live, the natural thirst. As a girl, Yang is extremely calm, even indifferent, as if she lives by inertia and has no desires. I can't imagine how this is possible, but I have no desire to take a piece of childish flesh as a wife.
What the hell do I need her for? Even if the magic in it is strong, with a taste of freshness and pine resin, but besides being an incubator for offspring, a human being has to be a human being! It was as if something inside me trembled, pulsed, and a wave of warmth spread through my body, washing away the numbness and shock. It became easier to think. I was about to say something when the old man spoke again.
— Hana-chan is one year younger than you, so we'll celebrate your wedding in three years. — the old man said with a satisfied smile. — And now you should take a walk among the guests, it is inappropriate to avoid friends and relatives by hiding in the corner! — The clan chief finished and left with Mori.
Hmmm, what a gift fate has given me! You can't ignore the Clan Chief's words, so you have to get up and go hang out with the drunks. There seemed to be more people in the crowd, otherwise why did it get so crowded when there was plenty of room to sit? Servants, children, teenagers were constantly passing by. What could we do? We must think of something to get rid of this "honor". If only I could meet my father... Over the years, I have learned that my father is the second son of the chief, the third child in the family — Hiro.
From the rumors it turned out that the man was not a fighter — his character was not the same, but he was an excellent professional in business and economics. It turns out that he has not shown himself in this estate for twelve years, being on the road all the time.
Now, it seems, he is somewhere in the southern islands, where they not only grow exotic foods such as vegetables and fruits, but also have farms with magical creatures and plants. Although, most likely, he would not have helped me in any way, as he had never seen his only son in all that time. We have to look for other ways, because one or two plans may not work.
And yet, how can they be so insolent? Aren't you disgusted? Even Rome loved to celebrate without restrictions, and where is this Rome? Passing through another dense group of dancing people, I feel someone's close, familiar attention. A hand rests gently but firmly on my shoulder and I stop, turning slightly. A woman with familiar eyes crouches beside him.
Our gazes meet and a shiver runs through me, with the warmth of the kinship of magic, terribly familiar, almost identical. The woman looked into my eyes for a few seconds, then suddenly embraced me, pressing me against her. I feel her trembling and shortness of breath, and her magic seems to have turned into an octopus that wraps itself around me, but this does not cause any discomfort.
— How you have grown, my son...— a woman whispers into my ear, stroking my head. — My Sora...
— My name is Arata...— I answer quietly.
The woman pulls back to look me in the eyes.
— Hoshino Sora, son of Hoshino Junko, my son, — the woman says firmly. — I gave you the name Sora and it's your real one, don't let thieves steal the last one!
— Are you my mother? — I feel that this is true, but I need to hear it, to see the confirmation in her eyes. In spite of this life, I feel a kinship with this woman, a kinship I have never felt with anyone before. It cannot be put into words, you just know that this is your family.
— Yes," the woman nods confidently, continuing to look into his eyes. — We don't have much time, so I have to tell you the most important things, and then, if you want, you can find out more. Or, if you're lucky, I'll tell you. — I nod slowly. — Okay. Our Hoshino Clan was blessed by the gods in the light of the stars, hence the name of the clan. Our strength and longevity have always been the envy of others, and our traditions have allowed us to remain unblemished. For centuries, our blades have served the Emperor faithfully, upholding the order of the Covenant.
Fifteen years ago, the head of the Miyazaki clan wanted to seal the alliance by marrying his eldest son to the first princess of the Hoshino clan. But we have a tradition: every young warrior, and there were all of them in the clan, has a pair of ritual tantos.
The couple must fight, and if the male wins, or at least the fight ends in a draw, then there is a wedding. The couple exchange blades, and the blades are passed down to the children. Miyazaki's eldest son lost in a duel, which showed his weakness — the Hime of the clan could not marry someone whose strength was not even comparable to hers.