The Northern wing of the palace was small and old, topped with a cracked dome and filled with many rooms needing attention. However, it did overlook the largest part of the palace gardens, and when it came time to assign rooms to the governance of Ruyua’s Peak, Kyo reserved the Northern Wing for his family. Ruyua liked it, in her own quiet disapproving way, or at least saw its potential. She commissioned Invandi masons and carpenters and for much of the last year they had filled his home, speaking in their strange chirping language and working like a monsoon wind.
After the third day of the noise and the clattering, Kyo arranged for his desk to be moved into the garden. There, among the wild flowers of paradise and the rose bushes, there stood a spacious stone gazebo which might have once been a shrine to Invandi gods. It was from here he watched the gaijin work, through light silk curtains to keep away the strange alien insects of the land. Through hot days its high ceiling remained cool and dark. Through the wet seasons, its sloped surface and gutters miraculously carried away any raindrop and left the interior and the Dragon dry as a bone. Kyo came to love working here and even hosted the occasional guest, all the while pleased with the exterior of his home and the progress of the city itself.
It was here he would receive letters, too. He would read them with a gentle smile on his face, before putting them aside, only to read them again. Many were sentimental. More were from family that had long forgotten his name but only know heard it once again, through stories carried home. Kyo found himself writing back less and less, though, busied by the Mantis and Spider who called his city home. Soon, he found himself barely resting long enough to read the letters when they came. But he knew that this wasn’t really the reason he spent so little of his time to write back. Kyo just missed them all too much. When he thought about the band of Samurai, arguing amongst each other, wearing each other’s kimonos and laughing drunkenly about Yoritomo ghosts, he felt homesick.
Letters from the Kitsuki dried steadily, but letters from Tyuki-Hime did not. He was glad to receive the occasional hurried note from Shuzo, who was busy tracking the criminals of Rokugan. Daikichi proved even more elusive, drifting from port to port, but their correspondence was more regular when he settled for a while and much more professional, Kyo doing his best to mull over the information Daikichi provided. Yoichi’s books were less then welcome and Ruyua delighted in reading them aloud to her husband during dinners and in their sleeping quarters. It became such a pervasive habit that he finally decided he could only distract her with the suggestion that they find an heir.
The children belonged to Kyo’s extended family, the third son and second daughter of a distant cousin. Kyo had been contacted about the possibility of taking them into his home some weeks ago, but had only replied he needed time to discuss it with his wife. At first, Ruyua believed it to be a joke. Then, she thought it over, and something in her Crab heritage decided she would be damned if Spider took Ruyua’s Peak when they were gone. Kitsuki Saburo and Kitsuki Ami were sent from Rokugan to the Ivory Kingdoms in the spring, along with their nanny. Saburo was a small boy with dark eyes, who was generally quiet and respectful to a fault. Ami was certainly more wild then her mousy brother, having insisted she come along if Saburo was sent away.
With them they brought a second of Yoritomo Yoichi’s books, along with a letter. The Nanny explained a rough looking man had passed them on in Second City, claiming it was wonderful luck and that he would follow after them soon, to Ruyua’s Peak, but first had to attend to business in town.
This letter was put aside, still sealed, as Kyo and Ruyua were thrust into the strangeness of parenthood. It sat upon the desk, out in the garden, under a smooth flat paperweight as Kyo did his best to adjust to being a father. He tried to be authoritative, which worked as well as it had in the days of Plumtree. He and Saburo bonded over the strange insects in the garden while Ami enjoyed the stories of Tigers and Naga and Sea Serpents. A sense of fondness grew in the Dragon and his wife and the letter disappeared below notes and scraps of paper, swallowed in Bureaucracy. It was forgotten, as was the promise of a stranger to arrive on business.
A month had passed and dark grey clouds settled over the jungles. Rains began, sputtering at first, before warm fat drops constantly covered the city for days at a time. Kyo walked the stone path from the palace to the gazebo under his wicker umbrella, the same one he carried through jungles and deserts. Little had changed about him physically. Perhaps he was a bit older; softer around the belly, his goatee a bit longer and speckled with grey, the lines around his eyes and on his forehead a bit deeper. But his eyes remained sharp as a hawks circling mountain peaks. And the black Dragon Mon still dominated his shaved head, a talking point among some courtiers who couldn’t decide if it was gaudy or admirable.
On the steps of the Gazebo he shook out his umbrella, hooking it on part of the facade before opening the curtains inside. The sound of rain pattering on stone filled the little office. Kyo found the sound soothing, settled on the cushions before his low wooden desk. Little had been added to the stack of issues needing to be addressed, (In the rainy season, little work was done, so little work needed managing) so Kyo began to sort through papers, bringing a little order to the madness of his work.
That was when he discovered the letter once more. His lips were touched by a wary smile as he broke the Mantis seal and began to read.
Then the smile faded. It was replaced with a frown. Then with a lowered brow. He grabbed a fresh scroll and his calligraphy set, writing quickly in the dark morning.
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To my old friend, Yoichi,
I must first ask for forgiveness in how late this reply shall be. Your letter, while most welcome, arrived in a time of my life that required great attention. Who knew running a great city would require so much focus? Your books are a great success in my household however. Ruyua delights in reading them aloud and I must say I admire the way you can alter truth to make such captivating flights of fancy. Ryoza is a wonderful writer and must be complimented, while your skill in embellishment has not changed. I simply dread the duty of the prosecuting party in whatever legal trouble you might find yourself in. If the inquest is ongoing, please inform them they might contact me for any assistance they need.
To the thrust of your letter; Tyuki-Hime did inform me she was worried about your dreams. I found them to be worrisome also, though she did not discuss the content of them I believe dreams and sleep to hold great power in the element of Void. Now that you have revealed the imagery, I am left deeply troubled.
Ruyua’s Peak has only grown in the time you and our friends have been away, back to Rokugan. It is stronger each day and the idea that a snake has made its way into the Spider clan here without my knowledge seems unthinkable. I shall and will not rule it out, of course, but I have not seen Hoshi or heard rumours of her location since she fled cowardly from Plumtree after summoning the Oni and stealing your wife-to-be, despite my scrutinous investigations.
Another troubling thing to note is the lack of any Yojimbo, generously provided by yourself. This letter arrived without your Ronin, but now I think upon it the carriers claimed that a stranger provided it to them and then went on to say he had business in Second City. I would send servants to locate him, but you failed to provide a name, so instead I shall tap into my contacts in the city and see if I might locate men in search of rare and mystical powders of legally dubious status.
You are welcome to stay within the Palace when you arrive. As soon as this letter is complete, I will go about arranging a warm welcome. I hope, however, that you are not needed here. And I hope, again, that you have a safe and convenient travel.
Might we continue to live in interesting times,
Kitsuki Kyo, Governor of Ruyua’s Peak
Tue Jun 24, 2014 12:27 am by 
