Iron Twilight: The Genji and the Gaijin

The second piece.

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[ November 14, 108 RIY ]
[ Warjilis Trade City, Lionel ]

Dawn. The sun had finally crested above the ridgeline of the mountains to the east of Warjilis Trade City, a port city that had been built by both Ronkan and Colianthic hands. The city was a symbol of their friendship, the only place in the world where east and west truly mingled. Nearly every merchant from either nation who did business with the other came through this magnificent city, a blended mix of two seemingly-opposite cultures.

A clavat samurai by the name of Lore Genji-Ryoku awoke in her rented room above one of the many Colianthic shops. She was not yet acclimated to the late hour of sunrise, having only been in Warjilis for two weeks; however, as a samurai, she was mentally focused enough to adapt at least physically. She stretched, performed a few rapid exercises, then seated herself, preparing for her hour-long meditation.

As she closed her eyes, however, there was a rough knock at the door.

Quick as a flash, her katana was in her hands, before her mind had time to react. She breathed deep, then exhaled slowly, putting the katana down. No one would be foolish enough to attack a Genji, even in Warjilis.

She walked to the door, her careful movements graceful and quiet. "Who is it?" She asked in Tipan, her native tongue.

"Balthier." Came the response.

Ah, Balthier. Lore had been selected as one of only a few Genji to visit the Ronkan Empire; their time in the Empire was meant to serve as a learning experience, to find out as much as they could of Ronkan culture and society. Understanding in all things, as it was said; and it would take many lifetimes to fully understand these strange people.

Lore opened the door, and Balthier bowed slightly as she did. "Shall we walk?" He asked in her language, though his words were stilted. It was clear that he yet had much to learn.

Lore nodded. "One moment." She replied simply, and shut the door.

She went to the armor stand in the corner of the room, the only furnishing aside from the simple bed, upon which her armor rested. While the Genji had once only numbered seven, their families had grown large since those ancient times, and now there were dozens, if not hundreds, of their descendants. Not all who bore the family name of Genji chose that path, of course, but many did. The armor and daisho they were gifted with at the end of their training were wellcrafted facsimiles of Ishikaru's equipment, but they were still facsimiles. Lore's set was white and purple: white, to reflect that she was descended from the sixth clavat taught by Ishikaru, and purple, the color she had chosen to reflect herself. The wrappings of her daisho reflected these color choices, as well.

She donned the armor quickly, but without haste. Patience was a virtue amongst the clavat people, and this situation did not call for hurry. She tied her wakizashi to her belt and sheathed her katana on her back. Checking herself, she closed her eyes but for a moment, at an attempt to attain some amount of inner peace, then walked to the door and opened it.

"About time you decided to come out." Balthier observed, this time in Ronkan. Lore had some difficulty following the language, but did not let on that she understood most of it; most spoke more freely around her when they assumed she could not speak their language. She learned a good many things in that manner, that she could not have otherwise.

He smiled. "Shall we?" He asked, in her native Tipan.

Lore nodded, and gestured for the gunslinger to lead the way.

As they walked, Lore recalled the gist of what she had learned, both as a mental exercise and to ensure that she would ask new and relevant questions on this day. Balthier was a human, a people taller than clavats, but that shared many similar qualities; Balthier had said that the Xianese were human, though they looked almost nothing like the Ronkans. He was a gunslinger, as he had been in the Ronkan military for some time and trained in the ways of gunnery; he was apparently a noble of some kind, and said he hailed from Fovoham, one of the regions of the Empire.

"Perhaps today," Balthier said slowly in Tipan, as they ended their descent and reached the street, "You could tell me more of your people."

Lore was surprised by this - she did not expect a Ronkan to have an interest in her own culture. "What of them?"

"This city," He gestured with his arms, "This isn't Ronkan, but it's not Colianthic, either. It's a blend. I've taught you a good deal about Ronkan society in the past weeks. Surely you could teach me something of your culture?"

Lore considered this for a moment, then nodded. "Very well. We can discuss this, if you wish. What would you like to know?"

Balthier pondered, rubbing his chin as they walked. "Why don't we start with you. Your name, for instance. What does it mean?"

Lore nodded. "My full name is Lore Genji-Ryoku. It means that I am a descendant of the sixth Genji, student of Ishikaru, and that I have the birthright to be trained in the Halls of the Genji, a birthright which I acknowledged and accepted."

"What is a Genji?" Balthier asked. "And what significance is it that you are descended from the sixth? Who is Ishikaru?"

"Patience, Ronkan." Lore said, smiling slightly. "One question at a time.

"Ishikaru was the savior of the clavat people. Ages ago, we warred against each other, much as your people did against the elves?" She looked to him, and Balthier nodded. "Konoe Ishikaru was a master swordsman, a skilled warrior whose strength and focus was without equal. He sought a blacksmith to forge him armor and a sword befitting his skill, but could find none; instead, he forged his own. With darksteel katana and armor, he rode against entire armies of clavat singly, and won.

"He was not a violent man, Ishikaru. He desired peace more than anything, but knew that - at this time in our history - the only path to peace was through war. And so he fought each army in turn, defeating each in turn. When it was done, he gathered the leaders of the clavat people, and brought them together under his tutelage. These became the Genji, the Perfect Warriors, trained in the ways of iaijitsu and bushido, forbidden by Ishikaru to teach their more secret techniques to those not of the Genji lines. Ishikaru himself then disappeared into the mists, but since those times, the training halls of the Genji have stood. Where once there were but seven Genji, there are now many, each descended from one of the first."

Balthier nodded. "So you are descended from the sixth?"

Lore nodded. "Yes. The sixth Genji was Lorist Yoshiko, a woman. She had led a dishonorable life and people, but as their leader, Ishikaru knew that to reform them, he must reform her. And so he taught her the ways of bushido and iaijitsu, and Yoshiko saw the light of honor. She cast away her taint, and arose as a Genji; she led her people to the same reformation. Her colors are orange and white: orange to reflect the flames of rebirth, and white to reflect the honor she has found in the ways of the Genji."

Balthier rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I see."

"This rebirth affected all clavats across Distarin. It was after this that the clavats became as you know them: friendly, helpful, always willing to lend a hand, to forgive and forget. We are not a vengeful people, as the teachings of Ishikaru - passed on through the Genji - have shown us the Way. It was after we defeated our own demons that we reached out to the mogri - moogles, as you call them - and to the Xianese, and joined our three peoples into one nation. Since then, our peoples have known peace."

"When you say 'the Way,'" Balthier mused, "You seem to put some emphasis on that. What is the way?"

"The Way is a philosophy, an approach to life." Lore replied. "It is similar in some ways, I think, to your religion, the Glabados?"

Balthier nodded. "In our religion, we have God, and the Saint Iocus, who came to us at the beginnings of the Ronkan Empire as a sign of His will that we were His chosen people, destined to rule over Sarteri."

Lore frowned at this. "Which is something that I do not understand, this god. Why he would desire the destruction of an entire race and way of life seems strange to me."

"I think you've forgotten our history." Balthier said with a smile. "The elves were an abomination. They treated not just humans, but all of the shorter-lived races with such contempt. When we made mistakes, they took away whatever freedom we had used to make them. They were of the mind that since we lived such short lives, we couldn't possibly learn from our mistakes."

Lore pondered, then nodded slowly. "I can see how they would come to that conclusion. It took the people of Colianth many years to recover from the devastation that led Ishikaru to rise up against his people. But he did not claim a divine mandate in doing so."

Balthier shrugged. "Perhaps he was a divine agent, and you simply choose to not acknowledge it. God works in mysterious ways, as they say."

Lore shook her head. "I am sorry, Balthier, but I do not believe this, and have no interest in discussing it, as you know. You are Glabadosian, and I am Taoist, a follower of the Way; let us leave it at that."

Balthier nodded, and bowed his head slightly. "My apologies for upsetting you, Lore."

Lore returned the bow. "Your apology is accepted, as always, Balthier." She sighed. "The Way is not easily understood, and so your confusion is expected. I should have recalled what you have said of the Glabados. We have no priests, as you do; we have no rituals, as you do. The Way is something that affects your entire life. It is not something that can be easily grasped in a morning walk."

Balthier nodded. "Fair enough."

They walked further in silence, taking in the sights and sounds of Warjilis. Lore pondered the world of the Ronkan Empire, a world filled with people like Balthier who believed in a deity, that their near-annihilation of another race was somehow justified because of their religion. She shook her head; how she could live in the same world as these people was beyond her. Prejudice of that sort was something totally alien to her mindset: the mogri and the Xianese had been far different from the clavats, and yet the three races had managed to find some common ground, and build up off of that. Surely the humans could have done the same, with the elves? She could not fathom them, a race that lived for hundreds of years. The knowledge and wisdom they must have held!

But such was the past; the elves, she understood, had fled the continent for lands unknown. She must look to the present, to understand these people and find a way that some reconciliation could be reached. While her people were often left to their own devices in the Empire, she had heard that some clavats had been branded as "heretics" elsewhere, deeper into the Empire's lands, and burned at the stake for their beliefs. It was difficult to believe that such barbarity could exist among the same people who had invented such mechanical wonders! Such rumors led to concern amongst her people: if they were willing to slay single clavats with impunity, surely they would - some day - come across the Lerner Ocean with their terrible machines, and attempt to subjugate Colianth, to spread their religion to all corners of the known world. If they could not tolerate the elves, perhaps they would come to be intolerable of the clavats, as well...

Lore sighed. That would not happen today, nor tomorrow. And perhaps with the teachings of Ishikaru, she could teach people like Balthier of her people, and prevent such a catastrophe from coming to pass.