i.

As Carmen showed me, the cause of war is always so complicated there’s probably centuries of backstory. But we simplify until every high school student can parrot, ‘Arch-Duke Ferdinand was assassinated’, no matter what else was going on. That one moment is the spark that leads to the failures of negotiation, the drawing of arms, the formal declarations of war, the attacks. The spark becomes a metonymy for the war’s cause.

For our war, everyone says it was when Rabanu Surléa attacked George Street. In reality, it was eight months prior when the minathia (the leader of dainisa) decided to spend some time with her only child for a change.

Minathia Amaya Yamaguchi arrived at her mother Setsuko’s house in Kyoto one December-winter afternoon. It was a large house, surrounded by a tall stonewall, with only the tips of the roof and cherry trees visible from the outside. As she held open the heavy front door, Setsuko stared at Amaya in surprise. Surprise became irritation as she said, “Your child’s birthday was three months ago.”

Amaya replied, “I don’t see why that’s relevant.”

“If you say it’s not, it’s not. Are you coming inside?”

“Please.”

Setsuko led Amaya to a room on the second floor, towards the back of the house. On the way, she said, “Torao has been spending too much time with humans, he speaks Japanese better than our language. He is very bright, though. Very powerful. It won’t be a problem. You should let him stay here.”

“I’m only visiting. I need an update on the family’s activities as well.”

“Good,” Setsuko said, “a child like Torao needs as much affection as he can get. Your brother and I have been doing our best.”

Setsuko knocked on the door. There was no response. A minute later, she knocked again.

“Perhaps he’s asleep,” Amaya said. “Oh well.”

“He’s never slept well in daylight hours.” Setsuko opened the door.

It was a very large room with a double loft bed hanging over an unsorted bookshelf and comic-covered desk, toys scattered all over the star-covered carpet and plastic stars decorating the daylight-blue ceiling. Setsuko stepped around the mess and to the window overlooking the backyard, full of barren trees and empty flowerbeds. In the nearest tree, a good five metres from the window, sat a small blonde child. Setsuko shoved the window open, leant out and called, “Torao!”

Torao looked up at her, brown eyes wide with surprise. In Japanese, he said, “Gran! I’m sorry!”

Setsuko switched to Japanese to reply, “I’ve told you over and over, that’s dangerous! Get back in here.”

Torao climbed higher, scrambling along a branch until he was facing the window. Setsuko moved away from the window. Torao crouched then jumped.

“Mother!” Amaya cried.

By all rationality, he should have fallen and broken everything. Not even an Olympiad who’s trained their whole life could make that jump. But Torao glided through the air, landing crouched in the windowsill. He climbed through and shut it behind him, looking down at the ground.

Setsuko asked, “What if someone saw you?”

“I wanted to watch the sunset,” Torao quietly replied.

“Must I remind you what humans will do if they discover your magic? You know I hate that conversation.”

Torao murmured, “Humans seem so nice.”

“Because they think we’re human too,” Setsuko sighed. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

Closing his eyes, Torao said, “No.”

“Then at least tell me you understand.”

Torao slowly looked up, opening one eye. Its iris had turned a deep purple. “I understand, Gran.”

Amaya whispered, “So he really is Tiffany’s child.”

When Torao looked at her in surprise, like he’d just noticed her, his eyes quickly became brown again.

Setsuko patted him on the head. “Hey. Do you remember who this is?”

Torao shook his head.

“This is your mother.”

Torao gasped, “Mama!” He held his hand out towards the nearest toy (a stuffed tiger). It flew into his hand. “Wanna play?”

Amaya looked surprised. She carefully picked up a golden-haired princess doll.

“This one looks like your other mother,” she said, “and you. To an extent.”

Setsuko sighed, “Amaya, really.”

“Your hair,” Amaya said quietly. “Your hair is the same colour as hers. And your eyes, before.”

Setsuko said, “But doesn’t he look very much like you?”

Amaya’s eyes dragged slowly over Torao’s upward-slanted eyes, trying to estimate the shape of his cheeks and chin from childish chubbiness.

“I suppose,” she said. “Torao. You want to play?”

As Setsuko and Amaya spoke, Torao looked increasingly incredulous. But when Amaya crouched by his side and started playing, Torao was nothing but smiles and bizarre imagination. Amaya went with his instincts patiently. Setsuko sat on Torao’s bed and watched them for a while before leaving, muttering about finding Amaya’s brother. Several minutes passed before Amaya paused, as though listening.[1]

Torao asked, “Mama?”

In very slow Dainisan, Amaya said, “It would be best if you came to live with me for a while.”

Torao asked, “Will Gran come?”

“Not right away.” Amaya picked Torao up, handing him the princess doll. “Come along. There isn’t much time.”

She walked out of Torao’s room, down the hall and to the stairs.

“I wanna say bye to Gran,” Torao said.

“Be quiet.”

Torao tried to talk again. Amaya held his head against her shoulder until the noise was muffled. She carried him down the stairs, from the house and all the way to the train station. Torao didn’t protest again, but he did cry. Amaya carefully muffling his sobs.

When Setsuko realised Torao was gone, she tried contacting Amaya. She tried contacting people Amaya knew. She didn’t call the police, but she told her son, “Amaya took Torao. I don’t think we’ll see him again.”

She was right.

Amaya kept Torao subdued through a four-hour trip on a series of trains that took them deeper and deeper into the mountains. Torao was soon too distracted by the lush greens and blues to cry. They eventually arrived in a small town called Yamakita, where Amaya led Torao to a grubby apartment block.

Inside was no cleaner than out; the curtains were all drawn, empty take-away food containers left on the floor. In front of the television was a bedroll buried in a disarray of blankets. It was already small, just the living room with a miniscule kitchenette and bathroom to the side, but the mess made it claustrophobic. Amaya put Torao on her bedroll, told him to sleep, ignored his “But I’m not tired”, locked him in and stepped outside to make a phone call.

You know how in movies they split the screen to show both participants in phone calls? That’s what it looked like to me. I think the Angel of Prophecy might like Hollywood cinema.

The greasy-haired splotchy-skinned white British man answered with, “Minathia, I am honoured to receive your call.”

“You’re unworthy of speaking to your Minathia but hello Leonidas.”[2]

“Please, call me Leon.”

She ignored that. “I understand you have been researching the development of magic in dainisan children. Jalanis tells me that was the purpose for which you removed their jymnaji[3], yes?”

“Precisely. Have I acted improperly?”

“Not at all. I want your advice,” Amaya replied. “In my family it’s common to develop strong magic from a very young age. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t have magic, for example. However I only recall ever being able to use one type of magic, telekinesis. Exceptionally powerful telekinesis, but only telekinesis, all the same.”

Leon replied, “That is usual, milady. I’ve found that most dainisa who do have magic will have it manifest into one particular type of power. Usually this power will have two aspects, one which influences the environment around them — such as your telekinesis — and a more sensory ability heightened by magic to better enable its use.”

Amaya said, “I haven’t heard that before.”

“It is a theory I’m working on, it is perhaps presumptuous of me to present it as fact,” Leon admitted. “One child I am working with has the capacity to become invisible. He is also able to sense the presences of others, including the magic of dainisa. Usually he can tell what powers they possess.”

“Perhaps it would be useful for him to meet my child.”

“I believe he has, unfortunately. He is the jymnaji — hardly worthy of speaking with jyji, but at one point whilst I met with your mother, Torao approached him.”

Amaya’s eyes narrowed. “My mother has done a terrible job raising him. I have decided to take over for now.”

“A wise decision. If there is any way I can assist, I would be grateful for the opportunity to do so.”

“Naturally. His magic is quite unusual, so I would require assistance.”

Leon replied, “Tiffany had quite unusual magic also.”

“In a span of barely five minutes, he used some kind of gravity magic, telekinesis and changed the colour of his eyes. All were done deliberately.”

“Three different types of magic?” There was a long silence. “That shouldn’t be possible.”

Amaya hissed, “You question my comprehension?”

Leon back-peddled frantically, “No, Minathia, I only poorly express my surprise.”

“I suppose it’s possible he used telekinesis to simulate flight, but it didn’t appear that way — I’m quite familiar with the technique, naturally,” Amaya said. “It’s true that Tiffany had unusual magic, but her influence over flesh and souls would, I think you agree, be categorised as one specific branch of control, that over bodies.”

Leon quickly said, “Certainly, though her level of power was astounding, second perhaps only to your own.”

“It was superior to mine,” Amaya replied. “She was the most powerful dainisa when she was alive and should be on record as such. I believe that mantle has been passed to our child. And I believe he is far more powerful than any dainisa before, or any future dainisa.”

It was probably smart of Leon not to reply, given the sceptical look on his face.

Amaya persisted, “I believe he is the Sun.”

“The Sun, Minathia? Forgive my ignorance, I don’t understand.”

Amaya said, “Your human heritage shows itself once again. How unpleasant. Though I suppose your kin have perverted even the jyji until the way of Mina is forgotten.”

Again, it was probably intelligent of Leon to keep his lopsided mouth shut. Even if he had full right to tell her to shut the hell up.

Amaya explained, “Our oldest traditions state that dainisa are the blessed creatures of Mina, creator of the universe. For each of us, she created a star in the sky to guide our paths and our magic. Their light is our light.[4] Some shine brighter, but each light is important. The brighter ones are simply more important. Naturally, none is brighter or more important than the sun, Mina’s own daughter, who gives and preserves life itself.”

“Naturally.”

Amaya continued, “It was promised that the dainisa whose path is guided by the sun will liberate us from humanity, bringing about a golden age where we live freely. The Sun would be powerful enough to protect us all from humans. I believe Torao is this dainisa.”

The look on Leon’s face was a very clear ‘Do you now’ even as he replied, “Then I will do everything in my power to enable Torao’s grand destiny.”

“As is only natural,” Amaya said. “I will need your assistance in teaching him, and I suggest you pay close attention to the other children being born into the jyju families. I suspect they will be unusually powerful to go along with Torao, as is prophesied.”

Leon looked more interested. “My exalted brother Daniel claims his eldest child is developing a power other than teleportation, and the Jalanis spread rumours that their youngest is a siren.”[5]

“The Jalanis are only desperate to save face after generations of weak dainisa,” Amaya said, “and then they had to have Eleos.”[6]

Leon said, “I think it is worth investigating if possible, as a siren would be a great asset for Torao.”

“Keep an eye on all the children,” Amaya ordered. “Perhaps it would be best if you were to educate them.”

“I would be honoured to. If I may make a suggestion…”

“You may.”

“Liberating our kind from humanity will take a great deal of time and effort. Torao may be the key, but mightn’t we be able to act on our own to better support him? For example, by taking land from the humans, in creation of a dainisan homeland?”

Amaya made a thoughtful noise. “That has always been a dream of mine… perhaps we should, if it’s a relatively isolated country. It would be an appropriate time for it. I’ll discuss it with the jyju.”

Leon drawled, “Your wisdom will guide us to the right path, Minathia, and Torao’s success will be inevitable with your guidance.”

“Yes I know.”

Amaya hung up. She went back inside. Torao quickly woke up when she sat next to him. His eyes started changing from purple to brown.

Amaya said, “No, don’t do that anymore.”

Torao replied, “But my eyes scare humans.”

“Then let them be scared. You shouldn’t change for them.”

Biting his lip, Torao nodded. His eyes returned to purple. Amaya kissed his forehead. Torao beamed.

“You are very much like your mother Tiffany,” Amaya said. “Tell me. Do you know that dainisa will at times change their names?”

Torao nodded. “Cousin became Hiromi because she learnt magic.”

“Yes, because her life underwent a very big, very important change,” Amaya said. “Your life is about to change a lot, too. Because you are a very important person. So you should choose a new name for the new person you will become.”

Torao frowned. “I don’t know…”

“It is what our kind do. So from now on your name will be Pixie.”

Torao tried to repeat the name, but he wasn’t used to saying English words; it came out garbled between Dainisan and Japanese. Amaya persistently repeated the name until Torao could almost say it.

“You are Mina’s chosen, Pixie,” Amaya said affectionately. “You will be the light giving dainisa the lives we deserve.”

And so we have our spark.

---

[1] I know all too well what actively try to listen looks like, thanks.

[2] This is literally what she said, after she called him.

[3] I don’t know what this means. Usually dainisan words are translated for me, but not this time. When I asked Carmen, she told me to fuck off. Derogatory insult, maybe?

[4] By the way, the Dainisan words for ‘magic’ and ‘starlight’ are the same. I know that sounds like a fifteen-year-old monolingual white girl making shit up and accidentally creating a meme that threatens all boundaries of irony, but I swear, it’s real.

[5] It’s been explained to me that ‘siren’ when used by dainisa means ‘one who can enchant through music’, not ‘those freaky humanoid monsters with bird faces and feet’.

[6] Eleos Jalanis is a then-fourteen-year-old who for some reason the jyju bully the hell out of? I don’t know what crime he committed to deserve this but he’s the punchline to a lot of their jokes.