THE LAST SON OF JACOB

In the darkness, there was a dream. The dream was vivid and real, about a distant land and people. But, as the saying goes, a dream is not a story, it may as well be chaos of the mind.

* * *

The atmosphere was serene. The sun was high, and the wind was wistful. Birds chirped, bees buzzed, and the petals of a sakura tree landed on the ground. The sound of pebbles crushed beneath a set of heels resonated in the air, and a small caravan was sited on a footpath leading to the great palace.

The palanquin in the middle of the caravan stood out the most. It was most beautifully decorated and carried by four men in the uniform of royal servants. Occasionally, they caught the attention of the farmers who spotted them. They stopped harvesting and bowed in respect.

"That's Michinaga's caravan; it must be a distinguished guest to be escorted by the Kanpaku's guards," whispered the farmers, and before long, a rumour had circulated.

Two samurai on horseback are in the front, and two more are in the back. The security detail was not so stiff; after all, they were already in Heian Kyo_, and anyone who would attack them there was either mad or looking for an indecent death. However, the main reason for the small detail was a far more intricate political strategy.

Just a few paces from the caravan the royal palace was within sight. A huge and extensive structure is often considered an artwork. Usually, there was beauty and grandeur in the palace, but that day in particular, there were clear signs of a bit of effort. In addition, the presence of all the major clan heads brought about a deeply choking atmosphere.

They all sat gracefully in the hall, talking among themselves as they waited for the visitor and the Emperor to join them. But in their minds, one question remained: Who was this person who demanded respect from the Young Emperor and his Kanpaku?

* * *

In another room in the palace, she sat silently in a seiza posture beside the two great men—well, one man and a boy. The boy's name was Go_Ichigo, and as fate would have it, he was the Emperor. He was twelve and from time to time yawned and broke his posture. However, he quickly recovered, sensing a sharp glare from the man beside him, Fujiwara no Michinaga.

"Young Emperor," Michinaga spoke, "you mustn't break your posture and display such unbecoming behaviour."

Go_Ichigo slanted his back slightly and looked forward tiredly. He frowned puffing his cheeks and rested his head on his hand.

"But I am tired, the visitor you speak so highly of is taking too long,"

"Young Lord, patience is a will of virtue, you have to learn to entertain it,"

His tonality hardly ever changed. His words had a certain kindness and charisma in them, Ichigo sat up straight and looked ahead. Michinaga had never shouted at him or got angry, he was however always frank.

"Well done Young Lord, I suppose I will arrange for you to get some sweet dumplings this evening,"

"Really?" asked Ichigo looking at Michinaga with sparkling eyes.

"If you survive the evening in your best of manners that is,"

Ichigo looked a head more motivated than before. As she watched the exchange, she felt a need to laugh, she however could not. Unlike the two, her words carried no weight, for people like her, a simple error such as the slip of a tongue could easily mean their deaths.

"Umiko, I hope you are prepared as well?" Lord Michinaga asked sternly.

"Yes my Lord, I am,"

"Good, I expect this encounter to go smoothly, this may be a turning point for our nation,"

She envied the two. It was hard to believe they were the most powerful persons in the empire, to her they were like a father and a son.

She felt her poster about to break but would not allow it. How long was she going to endure the torture? It was hot, and the layers of silk, obi belts, hifu, and tabi were like a furnace. She was however grateful for the silk clothes on her head that covered her face and hair. She was never in her life allowed to show her face to anyone, but at the very least the two wouldn't see her face twist from time to time.

"Lord Michinaga," called Umiko, "I do hope I am not being disrespectful, but who is this man you speak of so highly,"

"He is an apothecary," said Michinaga, "one that claims he has the cure to life's greatest disease, mortality."

"Sure that is possible?" asked Ichigo.

"We are yet to find out if he is a fraud, that is why I have not informed anyone who he is or why he is here," said Michinaga, "but suppose my lord that he can cure death, would it not be nice to rule without the fear of death?

"I suppose," said Ichigo, "but where does he come from?"

"That is yet to be known, word reached me from a blacksmith friend of mine, he had a sick son who was said would never recover, the man healed him along with a few others with the same disease. It seems his knowledge is far greater than our own."

"And how do you know he has the cure to mortality?" asked Ichigo.

"He said so himself."

The door slid open and a samurai walked in and took a knee, both hands in a fist resting on the floor in front of the trio. With his head faced down, he spoke. "Great Emperor, Great Kanpaku, the visitor has arrived."

"Send him in," said Ichigo his tone a little more authoritative than earlier.

The samurai walked out. Umiko glanced at the two beside him, from the young Lord who was in the middle to Lord Michinaga at the far end. They both had a calm look about them, a look she envied, she understood now why they were in their positions as leaders.

A set of footsteps on the wooden floors. Two samurai entered, followed by a man in the middle, and two more behind him. The samurai dispersed taking positions at the corners of the room. The man took a knee, it was then that she was able to clearly see the man.

He was fairly tall and fairly muscular with a brazen look and attitude. His face was unlike anyone she had ever seen, it had a different but captivating shape. His skin had a smooth blameless tone, and it was slightly pale, like snow, she wondered if it was cold.

He was very peculiarly dressed. He has no belts or robes. Clothes not from her land. His long black hair held together dangled on his back, but above all were his eyes. They were red, a sort of glowing red that was indistinguishable.

Unlike the two Lords beside him who practised being rulers with certain habits. From his body movements and how he carried himself, she could feel his natural presence that made her heart skip a beat.

* * *

"Great Emperor and his wise Kanpaku, I am honoured to have your acquaintance, please accept these gifts as a token of our gratitude"

His voice had a certain gentleness in it. He talked slowly and pronounced the words in her language perfectly. He smiled ever so slightly and his body movements were meticulous. It was almost like a trained prince.

Several palace servers walked in carrying several boxes well decorated. They placed each before the emperor and lord Michinaga and walked away. Cain picked one of the boxes, black covered in a nice rapping and slightly big.

"For the Young emperor," he opened the box.

A bow beautifully crafted. Ichigo picked it up and was slightly surprised by its weight. It was light. He pulled the string slightly and was even more amazed at how sturdy it felt.

"It's light, but it needs strong hands to pull, crafted from the sacred tree of a race called the Elves. It's the only one in this world."

"It's splendid," said Ichigo, "I love it."

"I am glad to hear that. For the Kanpaku," he pulled out another box, "I was unsure what to get that would please you, so I went with what I felt would satisfy you the most."

He opened the box revealing a knife. No longer than a kitchen knife, with a round wooden handle, and a blade made of a black stone. Michinaga picked it up and was about to touch the blade when Cain spoke.

"Please be careful with it. People in my field, use a similar but smaller knife of the same make to cut bodies. It's made of a stone called obsidian, you might cut yourself and not even notice. It was crafted by a tribe of warriors called the Likoko tribe."

"Your gifts honour us Great Apothecary." Lord Michinaga spoke, "Please, do forgive our inability to address you by your name, it is hard for us to pronounce. Kainu . . .Keino . . ."

"It's Cain, but please, simply refer to me as Apothecary," said Cain.

He then turned to the young girl he was that had sat there silently.

"I apologise," he said bowing slightly, "My custom demands I have to gift all the people present hear, I did not think of a gift that would suit you, my lady."

Cain curiously looked watched her. He had long wondered why she was there and why her face had been covered. She bowed her gracefully still maintaining an elegant posture that impressed him.

"Please, I am unworthy of your kind gift sir Apothecary."

"Fear not," he said.

He reached into a pocket on the side of his pants and pulled out a red well-folded silk handkerchief. He unfolded it revealing a silver chain with an emerald gem the size of a pebble. She gasped as she looked at it. Surely it wasn't for her.

"My father gave me this long ago and instructed me to pass it on to my future wife. The lady I intended to give to cannot receive it from, please have it in her stead, it's really heavy in my pockets,"

She was uncertain and turned to Lord Michinaga for confirmation. He nodded. She happily accepted it.

"I would happily accept it," she said.

"You are probably wondering why Umiko is here with us," Lord Michinaga commented, "well it has something to do with her rather, peculiar position. Umiko please unveil your face."

She put aside the gift and reached for the silk clothes on her head. She pulled it off her head and placed it on her lap. Cain looked at her, a startled look on his face.

Large eyes as grey as the ash. At the centre of the Irish, a blackish-purple blend danced with glimmer, a feature that accentuated her eyes. Beneath these eyes, her face was unlike the many he had seen in that nation. Lacking the steep angular features that were dominant to many other women he had met. And her hair was a mixture of black and brown and the smoothness of silk.

"She was found washed to shores ten years ago. She did not know about her past, except her language and a very strange name, stressed much the same as yours."

"I see, a Umiko, meaning from the sea. And what was this other name?"

"All I recalled was a name that resonated in my mind," she said, "It was . . ."

* * *

" . . .Reachel." Kitsune said waking up suddenly.

Her heart raced as she looked around. The room seemed to be oscillating from her own to one of a different place, perhaps an ancient Japan. She tried to control her breath with little success.

"What's happening? Where am I?" she wondered.

A sharp pain flashed across her head. It was a pain she was familiar with, a headache she had been experiencing for a week now. Then her mind jumped to a flash of a memory, the sound of a gunshot, screams in the distance, and a wintery cold. As it did, her heart breathing got louder and full of panic.

Then, there was a warmth. A calming warmth with a nice fragrance. It calmed her steadying her breath to clear her foggy mind. Her blurry vision settled and the distant voices quieted down. She was in the present at last.

"Calm down Kitsune, it was just a dream," came Cain's voice.

She rested her head on his chest recognizing the bizarre yet comforting heartbeat. Holding on to his tighter, she could not help but notice the tears in her eyes.

"That's it Kitsune, calm down," he said.

Hearing his voice calmed her settling the headache that gradually left her. But, it also raised one unsettling question. The dream had been so lucid. The details are profound. Only one question formed in her mind.

"Why did that dream feel so real."