1. Invisible String
1
INVISIBLE STRING
A young Ryu sat under the Sakura tree that had stood in this same spot since the dawn of time.
He looked up at the towering ancient being. The cherry blossoms stayed the perfect shade of pink, regardless of time. And, even though he was seven years of age, he had never seen so much as a single leaf fall.
“Son,” his father announced his presence before taking a seat beside him, “I heard you were late to your training.”
No longer looking up toward the sky, Ryu’s eyes went to his fiddling feet as he grumbled, “It’s not fair.”
His father’s voice turned stern. “You’re a Tei; speak up when you have something important to say.”
“It’s. Not. Fair.” His voice matched his father’s strong tone as best as he could at his age. “It’s not fair that I can’t play and go to school with the other kids.”
“That’s because you are not like the other kids,” his father, Tatsu, answered honestly. “You never will be.”
Going back to kicking his feet, Ryu lifted up a patch of grass as he mumbled under his breath again, “Then why do I look like them?”
Playfully, Tatsu hit his son’s shoulder with laughter. “You won’t for long.”
Great , he thought, knowing what was coming in a few years. “By then, everyone my age will really think I’m weird, and I’ll never have any friends.”
“We’re meant to protect them, not befriend them, Ryu,” His father told him the harsh truth of being a firstborn Tei son.
Their lineage had quickly found out it was best to keep a distance and professional demeanor with their people, all except for one.
“But, in return, you’ll get something far greater than a friend.”
“What’s that?” Ryu finally stopped kicking the ground to look at his father.
Tatsu took a deep breath during which you could see him contemplating something on his son’s features before he released it, figuring it was time to tell him. “Do you know why this tree’s blossoms never fall, but all the other ones in the village do?” He looked up at its beauty like his son had just moments before he sat beside him.
“Mom told me it’s a magical tree, just like you and me.”
“It is.” Tatsu nodded in agreement with glossy eyes shining only for a second before it passed. “And just like us, this tree is tied to you, me, every firstborn son who came before us, and every firstborn son who shall come after us …”
Ryu’s brows furrowed up at the beautiful, vast Sakura tree that sat in a secluded part of their family’s property. Looking around, he finally made the connection of just how protected the sapling was when his father continued.
“Until its time and the Tei’s time … runs out.”
“What?” He snapped his face to the older version of him. Fear for his family shone in his young eyes. “What do you mean? When will tha—”
“It’s all right, son.” Tatsu placed a calming hand on his son’s shoulder. “This tree is like a timer,” he began to explain the magical powers between the living beast and them. “When a Tei son is born, the Sakura tree connects to that generation’s son, setting the timer, and it isn’t until his son is born does the tree make its new connection as the clock resets.”
Now when Ryu’s eyes met the magical tree, he could almost feel what was like a string between them. He watched the pink blossoms floating lightly in the breeze, silently wondering how he had missed it all the times he had sat under its shade, which was at least once a day.
“However”—he cleared his throat before his father’s wondrous tone turned serious as he continued explaining the connection—“soon, the first cherry blossom will fall, and they’ll continue to do so until you find your fated mate.”
“My fated mate?” Ryu asked, scrunching up his face in childlike disgust.
“Your future wife,” Tatsu said, laughing at his son’s expression. “One day, when you’re older, you won’t think it so odd.”
Yuck , Ryu thought doubtfully.
“And look at the bright side. You’ll no longer feel lonely.”
Ryu’s expression slightly softened, supposing that was true. “Was Mom yours?”
Solemnly, his father nodded his head. “She was.”
“Does that mean you’re lonely now?” Ryu asked another question, like all children do when learning something for the first time.
“From time to time,” his father admitted before bringing his son closer to him. “But you keep me plenty company these days.”
Ryu chuckled, even though his heart began to feel heavy for his father. He had only felt sadness for himself for losing his mother, but now he understood the gravity of his father’s own sadness.
“How did you know she was your fated mate?”
“Oh, you’ll know,” his father said, giving his own chuckle. “Unlike everyone else in this village, and even on this earth, you’ll have the ability to know. It will be like”—a soft smile touched his lips in remembrance—“magic.”
Ryu trusted he would since he now felt the magic in the tethered string between him and the massive being, but then he felt that string ever so slightly loosen what was once so taut as a single cherry blossom fell from a swaying branch.
They watched it float in the wind until it poignantly landed in Ryu’s somehow knowingly waiting hand.
He gulped, beginning to understand something. “And if I don’t find …”
His father confirmed his thoughts as he trailed off, knowing it was a lot to put on his son, but it must be done all the same. “You’ll need to find your fated mate before the last cherry blossom falls. If not”—he gave his own dry throat a swallow—“then you’ll be the last of us to exist.”
Numbly, Ryu stood, his boney knees buckling. He could barely walk as he began following the invisible string.
“Don’t worry, son.” His father sensed the earth-shattering weight he had just placed on the still tiny shoulders. “You’ll find her, just like I did, and our hundreds of ancestors before us. A Tei always does,” he assured him. It was clear he was now rethinking telling him today. “Then, when your son is born, the Sakura tree will magically rebloom overnight and stay that way until you tell him what I just told you, and what I was told at your age, too.”
Closing the distance, Ryu didn’t look back as his father continued to himself.
“The cycle will go on, because it must .”
Ryu had already been told of his purpose, why he had been born and why there must be a new son born every generation. It was the same reason he was secluded from children his own age, why he was forced to train every day, and why when someone approached his father, they bowed, the same way everyone in the village would one day bow to him.
Slowly, his small hand reached out and placed his palm on the solid bark. It took only a moment before he felt it …
The ticking.