Kunikuzushi

In a world of mana-weilders and mana-devouring monsters, you were born in an ordinary baron’s family, one that watched over a small territory near the East. Your father’s pride were the rice paddies under his name and the people he governed, proving to be a stable ally to the empire in terms of both resources and loyalty. And to reward that loyalty of his, the emperor promised to secure the most capable man on the continent for his daughter, you.

It had been a promise made when you were still a child, something that you didn’t really think much about until you were older. Your hand in marriage to secure an alliance and fulfill a debt. Now, it wasn’t as if arranged marriages were uncommon, especially in nobility. People formed alliances through whatever means they could; through gold, through mutual trades, through marriage.

You met your fiancé when you turned seven, a “birthday gift,” as your mother had put it. Kunikuzushi was around fifteen at the time and preparing to leave for his semester at the academy. The meeting happened on a whim, not exactly planned or anything, as evidenced by having to greet the young man in your pyjamas so early in the morning.

He and his father had stayed for breakfast that day, and you couldn’t help but steal glances at him across the table, your little legs kicking back and forth out of nervousness. Your mother, the devoted wingwoman she is for you, suggested you show him around the rose garden of the estate. Unable to refuse, you mumbled a quiet “come this way” and walked him to the gates that led to the garden.

He didn’t say much back then, though he was just a tad bit more gentle with you. The rigidness he displayed with others was not present whenever you interacted with him. You wondered if it was because you both were just children.

Even though it had been your first meeting before he left for the academy, you sent letters through the maids quite often. They were mostly about your day; how your etiquette lessons went, what new dress your father bought for you, and the new desserts you and your mother had for teatime. His letters, in return, were short and concise, but you’d read them over and over again.

You read about his days at the academy, his participation in various sword fighting competitions, and how “easy” his classes were. Sometimes, there’d be a pressed winter heather or snowdrop in the envelope, which you’d collect in a small box that was filled with his letters to you.

As time passed and both of you grew older, your letters remained frequent. It became a sort of habit to ask your maid to bring you the latest mail addressed to you during breakfast. You’d flip through different tea party invitations and summons, always stopping on the plain white envelope with a single signature at the corner.

In the spring, you turned fourteen, he graduated and had travelled back to the North to assist his father. You were an absolute whirlwind of excitement, begging your father to take you up north to see him. The letter had been sent to his estate, but before any response could come, a summons from the imperial court demanded everyone’s attention.

The men of the land, those able-bodied and experienced in the sword, were expected to enlist without delay. The subjugation unit that would travel Northwest toward the borders to dispel the area of the monsters that breached through the barrier. They were tasked to escort the People of the Faith, priests who wielded immense mana and were the ones responsible for maintaining the barrier and reinforcing it.

Your father, the Duke of the North, and of course, Kunikuzushi, were all enlisted into the unit, leaving far too quickly to heed the call. You didn’t even get to see your fiancé. Those few months without receiving his letters were the most boring months you’d lived in your entire life. Although your mother did her best to reassure you, your mood was still off.

The subjugation didn’t take as long as the people believed it would. About three months before your mother received a letter from your father, stating his return. Your excitement, before it could even rush to your head, was halted when the letter detailed your fiancé’s situation. During one of the battles against a tier four monster, Kunikuzushi had part of his mana core devoured by the creature, leaving him in a very precarious state for a few weeks. Fortunately, the priests had been present, doing their best to stabilize his mana core. However, the solution was only temporary.

Still, the seasons passed, and you reconnected with your fiancé, the flushed cheeks and doe eyes making a strong comeback whenever he visited your father’s estate. He did need to see the priests regularly, the empire having not found a solution to his devoured core as of late. You came with him almost every time he needed to visit the Church, your own heart aching whenever he was made to lie on the cold stone to let the priests work.

Still, you were set on marrying him despite all his concerns. You refused every last attempt at a change of husband. “He won’t last long,” “you’ll be left a widow,” “choose a safer option.” You ignored every one of their suggestions and concerns, holding onto him as tightly as you could until the marriage was finally sealed in both the eyes of the Goddess and the law.

But peaceful days never last, and a man’s woes never leave him. The barrier, despite a regular blessing and purification ritual held every other day, continued to grow weaker. There was no explanation as to why, and hardly any time to answer. The monsters and their bloodlust seemed to rise like the tides, overtaking small villages on the outskirts before working toward bigger capitals.

Kunikuzushi, who had turned twenty-eight, was selected to lead the second division toward the Western pass, the more heavily populated areas where the people were at more of a risk. And once again, you had to bid him farewell.

---

Five years had passed since the subjugation units had left to defend the borders. Five years had passed since you last saw your husband. And only now did the capital receive word that “the world had been blessed with a miracle.”

Within one of the rural villages near the outskirts of the main capital state lay a small, rustic village. The second division had stopped by for a supply run, replenishing themselves before heading further West to continue. However, the priests held the division back, their holy relics detecting a strange power from within one of the few homes. A young woman with golden blond hair and sky blue eyes, with flushed cheeks and a slender build. Immediately, the Church had found their prophesized "saintess."

The tide against the monsters turned almost immediately, the barrier reinforcing itself completely when the presence of the saintess drew near. She was as powerful as she was beautiful, repelling the monsters back with nothing but a step toward their direction. After all, the dark is nothing against light.

You were thankful for the saintess as well, your heart racing when the news came that the second division would finally return home for the first time in five years. You could hardly hold back your excitement, waiting with abundant anticipation for the day you’d see your husband. After your short wedding ceremony and his departure, you immediately took on your role as “Duchess,” being guided by the head maid and the butler through your many tasks. All of this, you surmised, was for him. You wanted to surprise him by showing him that, despite being a mere baron’s daughter, you were capable of bigger things.

On the day of the division’s return, you stood outside the large gates, your woollen cloak held by gloved hands, your breath misting in the air. “They’ve arrived!” One of the guards announced, signalling the iron gates to part for the Duke’s entrance.

You took a step forward, then another, and another before you stood at the base of the steps. And your smile... it fell. You saw your husband, yes. He looked much older and more rugged, but his hand was held by a dainty, meek woman. Gold-spun hair and sapphire eyes. You recognized her immediately.

“The saintess...” You heard one of the maids whisper, their gazes fluttering between the poised lady who held the official title of Duchess, and the woman who held the hand of the Duke.

“This is Kiyoka.” His voice was heavy, flanked with exhaustion but hidden beneath the stoicism he carried when in command. “The Holy Saintess, Kiyoka. See to it that she is treated with the utmost respect.”