The Forbidden Affair

“Harder!” Daichi screamed, “Hit him harder!”

Jun groaned as the three muscular warriors tore at him with their swords. They were under strict orders not to inflict any injuries on him, or else they would answer for it. A daunting task when one considered how close in proximity they all were to each other, plus the glinting sharpness of the swords.

Jun groaned harder, striking back as hard as his tender muscles could go. The men were ruthless, and he was tired from the bow and arrow practice they had engaged in for three hours straight. He was tired. Dead tired. As he lost control of his thought flow, giving in to his fatigue, one of the men hit him hard, and he fell flat.

“Get up boy,” Daichi barked. Jun lay there in subtle rebellion, enjoying the unprecedented rest. The men were slowly getting impatient.

“I said, stand up!” Daichi shouted.

“I’m tired, general…” Jun said tentatively. And he was right to be tentative because Daichi laughed sardonically. 

“Tired, Jun? After what? Four hours of training? Do you think being a tribal prince is all about eating fancy food and luxury?” Daichi strolled toward the boy and crouched. He whispered near Jun’s ears so that the boy wouldn’t miss the essence of his words, “It’s a life of warfare.”

Daichi stood up, stepped back, and nodded to one of the men. In the stark darkness of their underground training floor, lying on the soothing, calming cold ground, Jun glimpsed the powerful arm, the dangerous glint of the sword coming down on him, and he scrambled on all fours.

Daichi laughed in amusement. Jun was convinced at that moment that the man was plagued by insanity. He stood awkwardly, still not balanced, so he staggered and stumbled as he tried to get a grip on the blade. He was angry now at Daichi and himself. It was time to show these bastards he was no amateur with the sword. When the first one came charging, Jun blocked the man’s sword with his and kicked him. He was in the process of tackling the second when he spotted his father watching.

“Aizen!” Daichi called out pleasantly, “How long have you been standing there, old friend?”

“Long enough,” Takagi Aizen said casually. There was strength and authority effortlessly wrapped around the tribal chief, and he radiated it in waves, automatically attracting respect from everyone. Yet, it had nothing to do with his post or his power. Aizen was big, burly, and well-built. He seemed to fill the room.

“How has he been doing?” Aizen asked.

“Could be better,” Daichi grunted.

“Drop the sword, boy, and hurry home. Your mother is expecting you for breakfast. Besides, I have to talk to Daichi,” Aizen commanded. 

Jun bowed. “Yes father”

“Sometimes you’re too soft on him,” Daichi complained, “Breakfast when he isn’t done with his training?”

Aizen chuckled. “If it was up to you, he would break his back training all day. You know I’ll have an earful from Sakura today when she sees his bloodied nose.”

Daichi shrugged, his wolfish eyes glinting with malicious pleasure. 

“I’m sure you’ll explain it to her.”

“There’s an urgent state security matter I had to discuss with you,” Aizen said with all traces of humor gone from his voice. He watched Jun and the men saunter out.

“Is there a problem?” Daichi asked.

“A werewolf was knifed last night. We found a silver dagger in his back. He had left the shores of the community and had been on his way to human civilization. The killing had been done before he shapeshifted. I bet he thought he was being furtive and sly sneaking out like a common criminal. It had been unexpected, quick, and clean. It was obviously done by a human.”

Daichi’s eyes glowed with anger. “I would wipe all of them off the face of the earth they love so much. All of them!”

“You know that is not an option.”

“Well, what is? Our existence continues to be at stake. Not only do they want to keep terminating us, but our food supplies are quickly depleting. I keep telling you, Aizen, soon enough, it’s either going to be them or us. The desperation is growing!”

“The blood moon meeting is scheduled for tonight,” Aizen touched his friend’s shoulder in reassurance, “All these issues will be thrashed there. Don’t worry about it.”

Daichi grunted something simply because he didn’t want to share the optimism.

Aizen walked away with Daichi’s words swimming in his head. He wondered if he believed his own words.

***

Oniyuki watched expressionlessly as the four tribal chiefs sat in the throne room. All of them were late except Takagi Aizen. Sometimes, Oniyuki was tired of repeating the same old complaints about punctuality. The brain thrives on repetition. If compliance didn’t accompany repetition, it was probably because there was no brain in the first place. Since they were underground, their entire community was perpetually bathed in candlelight or fire torches. On the walls of the spacious room were carvings of their ancestors — the unfortunate ones who didn’t survive the ultimate battle between the humans and the blue bloods. Sometimes, Oniyuki blamed them for condemning the rest of their kind to this dark and opaque existence. The chiefs were now seated and waiting, looking up expectantly at him.

Oniyuki stood up. “Welcome, great tribal chiefs, once again to the blood moon meeting of the month. As you know, we meet here to continuously discuss and develop more survival strategies in the face of our dire situation.” 

Oniyuki studied their grave expressions for a moment before he continued.

“As you all know, things are getting more acute and desperate by the day. One of our own was killed because he was trying to get some food for his family, and he dared to venture into human society, damning the consequences—”

“If you ask me, I’d say he deserved what he got,” the Fang chief interrupted.

Oniyuki hated interruption. To him, it was a subtle sign of disrespect. But he had to agree with the Fang chief.

“True. And he has left us vulnerable as well. We need to secure more food for our people and stock up our barns so that no wolf believes he has to endanger our existence just because of his hungry stomach ever again. Any suggestions?”

Silence reigned for a bit.

“We are all here for brainstorming,” Oniyuki said impatiently after a few minutes.

“I hope you realize that we cannot keep hiding from humans forever,” Daichi said unnecessarily.

Oniyuki shrugged. “Maybe, but we will do whatever it takes to preserve our existence. And the humans would do the same.”

Daichi said nothing in response.

“Violence only begets more violence, Daichi. Our current circumstances are proof of that,” Oniyuki said to Daichi in particular, “Any suggestions?”

“The only way I see here is to sneak into human civilization in our human forms and get some food,” the Loin chief said.

“And how do we do that?” The Lunge chief asked with a sneer, “By going to the humans and asking nicely? We would be dead and blown up in two heartbeats.” 

“If you have a better idea, let’s hear it,” the Loin Chief said coldly.

“If we are going in our human forms, we can’t go to the markets without money. Money dominates human society. You can’t buy a thing without it,” the Lunge chief said. 

Disbelief was etched all over his face, as though he couldn’t actually believe he had to explain this concept to anyone.

“Which leaves only one way,” Takagi Aizen said, finally speaking and arresting the atmosphere with his commanding voice. Oniyuki looked pleased. Aizen was easily the most intelligent out of all the tribal chiefs and his favorite.

“We steal from them,” Aizen continued, “We don’t have money because we don’t use it and have no value for it. But even if we had all the money in the world, humans would never sell if they knew who we were. And let’s not forget that markets close at certain times during the day. Breaking into a market would require our paranormal powers for the whole thing to be a success, which automatically leads to more exposure. So either way, the general markets are out. 

“If we do not steal from a market, then where do we steal from?” Oniyuki asked, perplexed.

“Ever heard of a farm, your highness?” Aizen asked, “Think about it. Farms are bigger and larger, more spacious, and widely spread out. We could designate ourselves, and each werewolf carts enough food for several seasons. Usually, spaces as big as that are manned by one or two individuals or, at most, a family who lives there. Farms also have ten times more food than the markets because they are the main suppliers of the markets. It is far more advantageous.”

Oniyuki nodded. “A farm is it then. The focus would be on fruits and vegetables. Especially the ones that hardly grow around here due to our substantial lack of sunlight. This is a brilliant suggestion, Aizen. Thank you.”

The other chiefs regarded him with indifference.

Oniyuki stood up. “Two messengers would be sent to scout for the biggest farms closest to us. In a day or two, we should have proper reports. Then we would strategize an operational plan,” Oniyuki said, “I expect you to spearhead it, Aizen.”

Aizen bowed. “As you wish, your highness.”

“Dismissed,” Oniyuki announced, signaling the end of the meeting.

As they all shuffled out, Oniyuki spoke again. 

“Hang back for a quick word, Aizen. “

“Yes, your highness.”

Oniyuki waited until everyone else was out of earshot, and they were completely alone. 

“I’ve been waiting eagerly for this meeting not just because of pressing matters of state, but because I would like to discuss a sensitive matter with you.”

“I’m listening, your highness,” Aizen said.

Oniyuki turned around and sat on his throne, intricately convoluted with gold. He enjoyed addressing his subjects with it. He enjoyed the power it projected.

“You’re my favorite chief, Aizen. Your intelligence and the powerful commitment you have toward your people are remarkable.”

“I do what I must, your highness.”

Oniyuki smiled. “Ever so modest. I do hope your son is like you. If he is half the man you are, I know I have made the right decision.”

“The right decision for what, your highness?”

“Drop the tag.”

“What?”

“The highness tag”

“It’s a sign of conscious respect.”

Oniyuki pretended to consider that.

“It’s an order, Aizen.”

“Alright then.”

“Alright, Oniyuki,” Oniyuki corrected.

Aizen hesitated. “Alright, Oniyuki.”

“I was saying that if your son is half the man you are, then I have made the right decision in considering him to be Noelle’s husband, and consequently, the heir to the throne.”

Aizen couldn’t believe his ears. His heart pumped faster.

“You want our bloodlines merged?”

“Precisely”

Oniyuki stood up and paced around.

“You know that the gods have only blessed me with female children. I am not complaining, but it is a disadvantage in terms of my position. And I love my wife too much to marry another. I have thought it over, and marrying Noelle to one of the tribal princes feels like a viable option. The other tribal princes are too arrogant and immature, but Jun seems like a much better match. What do you think?”

What did he think? Aizen was beyond flattered, but he did his best to hide his true feelings at the moment. He didn’t want to seem like he was jumping at the opportunity.

“I am not one to decide at the moment, Oniyuki. This is a great thing you have mentioned, but it requires careful consideration. Let me talk to Jun about it.”

“Sure,” Oniyuki responded, “I’m sure he would understand.”

“I am absolutely sure that he would be enthusiastic about it,” Aizen said with conviction.

He had every intention of making it happen.

“I’m grateful we understand each other, Aizen. We would be terrific in-laws.”

***

Sikura was outside, grinding herbs and spices on a stone. She felt her husband’s commanding presence before she saw him. 

“I am sure you’ll be perfectly satisfied when Daichi finally kills your son,” she said without turning to face him.

Here we go, Aizen thought.

“Don’t exaggerate. Is this how you greet me after a long day? “

“Just don’t permanently scar my son all in the name of military training, Aizen. That is all I ask of you. You already demand too much from him.”

Aizen was about to respond with a cutting response when Hinata came running out of the house.

“Daddy! Daddy!” 

Aizen bent down and spread his arms wide open with a bashful smile, and she ran into them with glee.

“How are you, my precious?” He tickled her, and she laughed, playing with his beard.

“Where is Jun?” Aizen asked, directing his question to his wife.

“He’s inside.”

“Get him to come to me in the garden,” he ordered.

***

“You called for me, father?”

Aizen, who had been staring at dead bougainvillea, looked up at the sound of Jun’s voice. There was now a strong manly authority around it. It was as though the boy had grown up in the blink of an eye, but oftentimes, he still retained his boyish essence. Aizen’s feelings about who he was and what he had become varied a lot these days.

“How are your studies?” Aizen asked perfunctorily. 

“Good,” Jun responded dryly.

Aizen often wondered what started to separate boys from their fathers whenever the first tendrils of adulthood were unveiled. In the last few years, a gaping chasm had unfolded between his son and himself, and it grew wider and deeper every day. Yet, it had not in any way wavered or changed the love he had for him.

“And the military training with Daichi, how’s it going?”

Jun shrugged. “He’s doing what he is supposed to.”

“I’m asking about you,” Aizen clarified, “Are you doing what you are supposed to?”

“I am trying.”

Aizen regarded his son skeptically. “I see. I think you should sit. There’s something of utmost importance I must discuss with you.”

“I’m fine standing.”

Aizen shrugged. “Well, the king called me in for a private discussion today. As you well know, you are of marriageable age, and so is Noelle — the princess. Oniyuki wants a merger of our families and a joining of our bloodlines because he has no son. In other words, he wants you to marry Noelle. I think it’s a good idea because, with all the threats to our existence, we need to ensure a way to make sure that no matter what, our lineage and genealogy never truly die.”

Aizen looked up and saw a blunt disbelieving stare cross his son’s face.

“You’re asking me to sacrifice my future for Oniyuki’s desires?”

Aizen laughed. “Boy, I would hardly call that a sacrifice. You’ll be king. We would be royalty.”

“I don’t give a damn about being royalty. If I’m going to get married, I’ll marry a girl I love and who loves me in return, and not for the sake of an endangered species.

The smile died on Aizen’s face. “Marriage to Noelle will make you the most powerful within our kingdom. Why can’t you see that?”

“I see it, but I just told you I don’t care!”

Aizen stood up, towering over him. “First off, tone it down, boy, because I’m still your father. Secondly, no one cares about what you care about and what you don’t! You were born a tribal prince! That comes before anything else! Whether you like it or not, you are going to marry Oniyuki’s daughter, and that’s the end of it! Am I clear?”

Jun was grudgingly silent.

“I said, am I clear?”

He stormed out wordlessly. 

***

Sikura watched as her son left the house with his sword and spear. No doubt, an argument had ensued again, and she was sure that, as always, Aizen had tried to force something down the boy’s throat. Jun glanced at her, and their eyes met and briefly lingered. Then he walked out of the house and slammed the door. He had barely walked ten meters when he ran into his friends. An ever-noisy group of teenagers, popular within the kingdom for mischief.

“Was just about to come to get you, guys,” Jun said in gratitude.

Min, the most outspoken, responded. “We were just taking a stroll, dude.”

“Not anymore. Now we’re going hunting,” Jun ordered.

“Hunting? Today? Damn man, you got into a fight with daddy again?”

“Come on!” Jun shouted, deliberately ignoring the question and moving in front of them, “Let’s go get the weapons.”

“Man, you need to resolve all your daddy issues,” one of the boys said, and they all laughed.