Long ago and far away, there lived an Emperor and Empress of a country in a land ruled by four gods. The two ruled over the country in the farthest south, and had everything that they could wish for. They had servants who waited on them. They had a palace that was as beautiful as the Emperor and his Lady, and since the Empress was considered the most graceful and loveliest of all court, and all agreed the Emperor was the handsomest man to be found, it was a grand place indeed. They also had the respect and love of all their people. Only one thing was missing.
The couple had no children of their own.
This greatly troubled the two, for a child was desperately needed. Otherwise, there would be no heir to take the throne and rule over the people. If no child was born, then the country to the far west would try to claim the southern country, and war would follow.
Of course, the Emperor and Empress had more selfish reasons to want a child. They wanted a child they could watch grow, to be proud of, to teach, and, of course, to admire. For surely the couple could not help but have a beautiful child?
For many years, the couple prayed to the phoenix god, protector of their land. Finally, in a dream, the phoenix spoke to the Emperor. Far in the mountains, there exists a garden. In that garden, roses the color of red fire grow. If you gather some of the roses, make a tea from them, and your wife drinks it, a child will be born. But be warned. Only those that are pure of heart can find the mountain garden. And only gather enough roses to make the tea one time, for the garden is guarded and the price is high for those who take more than they need.
The very next day, the Emperor set out to find the garden. It took him many months, but finally he found the mysterious mountain. He climbed up the mountain's slopes, and found the walled garden. Since there was no gate, the Emperor was forced to climb over the walls in order to enter.
Once inside, the Emperor could not believe his eyes. Roses grew everywhere in every shade: from the palest of yellows to the blue of the seas, from soft peach to darkest midnight. Not even the palace gardens held such a multitude of colors! He longed to bring some of the flowers back to his wife, but dared not disobey the phoenix's commands. So finally, after much searching, the Emperor found and gathered up the roses of red fire.
His mission complete, the Emperor turned to leave the garden. That was when he saw them. Strange roses whose blossoms were somewhere between the gold of precious amber and the dark brown of fine wood. They were the exact color of the Empress's eyes, and the Emperor knew he had to have one for his wife. And so he reached out, ignored his god's warning, and picked one of the flowers.
As soon as he had gathered the forbidden flower, a horrible old women appeared, the guardian of the garden. The Emperor immediately fell to his knees, but whether it was in apology or disgust at the old women's face, no one can say. He tried to apologize for his deed, but it was in vain. For the single flower, the old hag demanded harsh payment. The Emperor's first child.
At this statement, the Emperor begged and pleaded that she reconsider. She could have his country, his fortune, even his good looks, as long as she left him his child. The old hag refused it all. The only comfort the Emperor was given was that the old woman would care for the child as if it were her own.
With a heavy heart, the Emperor returned to the palace and made the tea from the fire red roses. Nine months later, the Empress bore a beautiful son with hair of brown midnight and eyes exactly like his mother's. There was much rejoicing throughout the land, but within the palace the Emperor and Empress's hearts were quietly breaking. For they knew that they would never get to watch their son grow. So they gave him the only thing they could before the old witch took him. His name. Saihitei.
As soon as they gave the child his name, the ugly hag appeared and took the baby. She gave the child a different name, because he had been marked by the phoenix god as one of his chosen warriors. The old witch called him Hotohori.
Hotohori grew up, and the older he became the more handsome he became until their was no one more beautiful in all the lands. Anyone who didn't trust their eyes, need only to ask, and Hotohori would confirm this conclusion. Soon their were so many women (and the occasional man) trying to get the young Emperor's attention, that the old hag shut Hotohori up in a tower at the age of twelve just so she could get some peace.
The tower the witch shut Hotohori up in was made of black glass, and was so slippery that not even the roses could climb up its sides. Instead they pooled in a riot of color at the base of the tower. It had no stairs or doors, and only one window that stood high up on the tower. The only things Hotohori saw were the rose gardens below him, the birds in the sky, the old witch, and the old witch's little girl like servants. And of course, himself in the huge glass mirror.
Hotohori had magnificent hair that always fell to his waist, no matter how much the old hag cut it. For lack of anything better to do, the young Emperor kept the hair and braided it into a thick rope. Eventually, instead of riding in one of her bubbles, the old hag would call up "Hotohori, Hotohori, let down your hair" and Hotohori would let down the rope of hair and the witch would climb up.
It came to pass that a rich tailor's son was riding through the mountains one day and saw the tower of ebony glass in the distance. Curious, the tailor's son rode towards the tower until he came to the wall that surrounded the garden. Instead of going over the wall like the Emperor had once done, he simply made a hole in it with his great strength. For like Hotohori, the tailor's son was marked as one of the phoenix god's warriors. His name was Nuriko.
Nuriko saw the tower, and noticed the window high up on it. What could possibly be so valuable that someone would seal it in a tower of glass with only a high window as entrance? As Nuriko pondered the question, he heard a sound from one of the garden's paths. Not wanting to be discovered, and now desperately curious, he hid in the bushes.
Before long the old witch came down the path followed by two blue haired little girls. Nuriko watched in fascination as the hag called out "Hotohori, Hotohori, let down your hair." With in seconds a rope of brown-black came tumbling out of the window, and the old woman climbed swiftly up the tower. By this time, curiosity was practically eating Nuriko alive. He had to know what was in that tower!
Nuriko waited and waited at the base of the tower, and was about to leave and forget everything when the old woman finally climbed back down from the tower. She and her two little girl's left the area, and he quickly went to the base of the tower and called out "Hotohori, Hotohori, let down your hair." And just like before, the thick rope came tumbling down from the window.
At the top of the tower, Hotohori waited expecting one of the nyan- nyans, for the voice had sounded to pretty to be the old witch's. Imagine his surprise when Nuriko came over the window sill. His first thought was to demand that the intruder leave the tower, and if that didn't work, to force the intruder to leave using the sword of the phoenix god. But before he could act on either thought, Hotohori began to study the intruder.
The young Emperor had been sheltered in the tower for six years, and barely remembered other people. But he somehow knew that he had never met anyone like the one standing before him. The intruder was dressed like a man, but long hair the color of purple twilight lay in a thick braid down the stranger's back like a woman's. The way the intruder carried himself was full of confident masculinity, but the pale violet eyes and fragile looking face were distinctly feminine. Also, there was quality of beauty that seemed to defy any attempts to define or catergorize it. All in all, Hotohori decided than the intruder was almost as handsome as he was.
But not quite.
Nuriko couldn't believe his luck. Standing before him was the most beautiful man he had ever seen, sword drawn, dark hair loose around his shoulders, and eyes that flashed with brown fire. Now he understood why it was so hard to gain entrance into the tower. If he had something even half as beautiful as the man before him, Nuriko would make it impossible to steal too.
"My name is Ryuuen, but everybody calls me Nuriko," Nuriko said. The man in the tower hesitated for a moment then slowly lowered his sword.
"I am called Hotohori." An awkward silence followed, before Hotohori broke it. "I have a question to ask of you, Nuriko-san."
"Call me Nuriko, and please ask me anything you want."
"Are you a man or a woman?" At the statement, Nuriko burst into laughter. Eventually, even Hotohori had to chuckle. The laughter seemed to break the dam of silence, and soon both men found themselves talking as if they had known each other all their lives.
Nuriko soon realized that he was the one doing most of the talking. Hotohori had led such a sheltered life, and Nuriko's tales of the world outside the tower intrigued him. Without conscious thought, Nuriko kept his tales light and glossed over the worst parts of pain, hunger, and death. He had never felt the need to protect anyone before, but he felt it now with Hotohori.
It was with much surprise that Nuriko looked up from his conversation with Hotohori to discover that the sun had long ago set, and the moon had already risen. Realizing that his family would be frantic with worry, Nuriko told Hotohori that he would have to go. But before he left, the young Emperor made the him promise to return.
Nuriko returned the next afternoon after the old witch left, and the afternoon after that until it became a daily ritual for him to visit with Hotohori everyday and stay long into the night. Hotohori wanted to see the sights of the outside world, but Nuriko was reluctant, afraid that the innocent young Emperor would lose his child like faith in the world if he saw what a place it really was. Yet, Hotohori convinced him that him leaving the tower was for the best and soon the two began to plan Hotohori's escape.
However few things ever go as planned, and this was no exception. The old hag had noticed small things that led her to believe something was not quite right. The way her charge would sometimes ask about things, things he shouldn't know about being locked away as he was. And sometimes, the young Emperor would say something and go abruptly silent as if realizing that he spoke too much. This didn't happen often, but it happened often enough to arouse the old witch's suspicion.
The day before Hotohori was going to attempt escape, the old witch left one of her servant's to watch the tower of black glass. The small girl saw Nuriko arrive, and quickly told the hag about it. Angry at the betrayal, the witch waited until the next day before she confronted Hotohori.
At first, the he denied everything, trying desperately to protect Nuriko, but the witch would not be persuaded that nothing was going on. So she threw the young Emperor out of the tower, and banished him from the garden. Forever. Scared, confused, and sick at heart, Hotohori took his sword and left the place that had been his home since before he could remember.
Meanwhile, the old witch waited patiently and before long she heard the someone call up "Hotohori, Hotohori. let down your hair." Of course, it was Nuriko and the witch let the rope of hair down from the window. The tailor's son climbed up fully expecting to see his beautiful friend. Instead, an ugly old had surrounded by a glowing bubble sat on the bed with the mirror shattered into fragments of crystal on the floor.
"Who are you? Where is Hotohori?" Nuriko said as he backed up until he was practically sitting on the window sill. The old hag simply sighed, and gave him an unreadable look.
"Hotohori is gone. Dead. You will never see him again," the old witch replied, knowing that this was the only way to keep the two apart. However, she hadn't realized what saying such a thing to Nuriko would do. Feeling his heart break, he threw himself out the window intent on ending his life.
The ugly hag, realizing the young man's intent, used her magic to try and stop the fall. She was only partially successful; the old hag managed to keep Nuriko from killing himself, but he still landed among the roses whose thorns blinded him. Knowing her powers could not heal him, the witch cast a spell on him causing everyone who met the young man to instantly want to help him. In that way, Nuriko wandered the land dependent on others.
Hotohori, after being cast out of the garden, soon found himself in the capital city. He wandered the city, alone, wishing desperately for Nuriko's strength. He probably would have continued to wander aimlessly if he had not seen a royal procession, and gone to marvel at it.
The Emperor was in the procession, bored with whole thing and thinking only of the Empress who had died not long ago. He missed her terribly. Therefore, he was rather surprised to see a young man in the crowd with his beloved's eyes. Calling, a halt to the procession, the Emperor had Hotohori brought before him and questioned the young man. It was then that he realized Hotohori was his long lost son, Saihitei.
There was much rejoicing at the return of the young Emperor, but although he laughed and smiled at the courtiers, there was a sadness that haunted Hotohori's eyes. He went through the motions of being the Emperor after his father died, but always kept his heart to himself. Eventually he used the vanity, which had always been a part of his personality, as a shield to keep himself safe from those who would use flattery to gain prestige and power.
Years passed, and Nuriko slowly made his way to the capital city. While there one of the palace servants, taking pity on him in his blindness and because of the spell, took him into the palace. There he was free to wander the halls, and all the servants looked out for him. Yet even though he was clean and comfortable for the first time in years, his heart was still broken.
One day, not long after coming to the palace, Nuriko thought he heard a familiar voice echoing through the halls. Not quite daring to believe, he followed the voice. Nuriko knew he had wandered into a large chamber by the sudden feeling of space that pressed down on him. At his entrance, sudden silence descended, only to be shattered by a single word.
"Nuriko!" Hotohori shouted as he leapt off the throne and to his feet. For a moment he stood, staring at the figure who was so like and yet unlike the person her remembered. Then forgetting propriety, forgetting the people who stood staring, Hotohori came down off the dais, and threw his arms around Nuriko's neck. Tears flowed unheeded down his face.
Nuriko felt strong arms encircle him, and knew instantly who it was. He felt the Emperor's tears mix with his own, and the salt from them was both bitter and sweet at the same time. Suddenly, two of Hotohori's tears fell upon his eyes, and they cured Nuriko's blindness. The first thing that he saw was the love shining in Hotohori's pale brown eyes.
At Hotohori's request, Nuriko remained at the palace. There was some grumbling among people that he served no purpose, so Hotohori made Nuriko an advisor. But he was not just an advisor, he was also a friend, a confidant, and more. In the end, all was as it should have been.
Rapunzel
Susan Lee Gidley
© 1998, Tsaiko