THE OLD MADE NEW

The Kappa

KAPPA

Yuuma hated just about everything he saw.

He hated living in the United States, for starters, and he especially hated living in Wyoming.  Wyoming was made worse by living in Laramie, a college town.  That was further made worse by living approximately six miles out of town in an overpriced, run-down mobile home that lacked protection from the wind.  And that was made worse by Wyoming having particularly cold winters.

The one good thing about the weather was that it gave Yuuma the perfect disguise.  He walked among Man in layers—sweatshirts, baggy pants, a knit hat, gloves, hunting boots.  The rest…well, people just thought that Yuuma was an ugly old man.  It wasn’t particularly flattering, but it was useful.

Yuuma looked around his trailer.  The carpet was thick and a burnt-orange color, stained from years of muddy boots and spotty upkeep.  Yuuma went into his kitchen and looked out the huge bay window.  The view was pretty pathetic, just a few of the other trailers and a piss-poor pond beyond.  The pond was what caught Yuuma’s eye.

That little pond was his source of power.  It was nondescript, pathetic in its own right, but without it Yuuma would die.  He didn’t like the pond—in fact, he hated it—but when he fled Japan he needed to find a home and water that were collocated.  He needed something inexpensive, out-of-the-way, and readily available.  This shithole on Star Flight Lane was perfect.

Yuuma hated it.

A slick black car drew up to a stop next to Yuuma’s rusty old pickup truck.  A smile spread across his face because finally he saw something he didn’t hate.

“Thel, welcome! Please, let me take your coat.  Would you like some tea?” Yuuma greeted the siren at the door with a slight bow and genuinely kind words.  She kissed the squat man on each cheek before allowing him to lead her to his kitchen table.  Thelxiepeia knew Yuuma’s ways and therefore knew it was useless to discuss anything until tea and lengthy pleasantries were exchanged.  Yuuma was an excellent host, quickly brewing loose-leaf tea and setting a spread of fruits and a plate of homemade daifuku cakes.  The pair ate and spoke for almost an hour before Yuuma was finally ready to talk about business.

“It is such a pleasure to have you here, Thelxiepeia.  Your radiance fills my home and does me great honor.  I know, however, that you did not just come here to visit your old friend.  Tell me, what is it that brought you way out here tonight?”

“My friend, I came to you because you must be the first to know.  Tonight I found the one we have been looking for,” Thelxiepeia’s voice was laced with silver, even as her words were laced with granite.

“You don’t say?  You are certain, then?”  Yuuma asked by way of reply.

“I am.  He killed a homunculus,” Thelxiepeia informed him.  “I watched him leave with its body, and two humans.”

“Muggles?” Yuuma asked.  Thelxiepeia rolled her eyes.

“Honestly, Yuuma, I still can’t believe you read those books.  That’s literature for humans, and we certainly are not human.”

“You are right, Thel, as always.  They’re just so fun, I can’t help myself.  Ok, so the Chosen One left with two normal humans and the corpse of your homunculus, and—”

“No, it was no construct of mine,” Thel corrected him.

“Then was it from that woman of the night?” asked Yuuma.

“No, I doubt that.  This is a question for the Oracle,” Thelxiepeia said.  Yuuma frowned and removed his hat.  His face was leathery, like a man who spent too much time in the sun, though his skin was green.  He had a monk’s haircut, but instead of seeing his bald pate in the center, an indentation was there.  The pond-water that filled this bowl in his head was the source of his power.  Thelxiepeia, sensing something was wrong, placed her hand on his.

“The Oracle was found dead this morning, Thel.  It was on the news.  She was found dead in the Rockies, presumed to be a camper mauled by a bear.  I…I asked her a question.  She was only out communing, trying to get me an answer,” Yuuma was crestfallen.

“My friend, she was doing her part for all of us.  Grieve, certainly, but do not blame yourself.”

“You’re right, Thel, as always.  It doesn’t matter now.  You found the Chosen One.  Now we just need to kill him and his friends.  Do you think he’s made contact with any extraordinary beings?”

“I doubt it.  He seemed a common enough fellow, and his friends were simple.  We folk of the Court need to gather together and crush him like the insect that he is.  He—wait, is that a punching bag in your living room?” Thelxiepeia found herself distracted by the view of Yuuma’s living room.  He motioned and the two went to the room.  It had been cleared out, the only remaining furniture being one of those compact Bowflex machines, a few free-weights, and a full-length punching bag that Yuuma had had to brace the ceiling in order to support the bag’s weight.

“Won’t your twatwaffle of a landlady be upset?”  Thel asked.  Yuuma started at the word.

“Watch your vernacular, please! That was very impolite.  And yes, she will be, but I don’t care.  You found the Chosen One, and now our misfortunes can come to an end,” Yuuma was clearly excited as he rubbed his pudgy hands together.

“Well, I can see that you’ve been working out more.  So you, uh, solved the issue of your species?” Thel asked delicately.

“Yes.  I use superglue! I can apply a cap to my head that will keep the water in and seal it with superglue.  It is neither fashionable nor comfortable, but it is functional,” Yuuma said proudly.

A sound caught Thelxiepeia’s perfect ears.  She crouched down defensively and stared down the narrow hallway.  It was the toilet flushing.

“Who’s here?” she hissed at Yuuma.

“Not to worry, Thel.  This is a friend,” no sooner had the kappa spoken then a figure appeared around the corner.  She was young and attractive, with long dark hair and a lovely figure.  She was barefoot and wore anklets with little bells on them that jangled as she walked.

“I am Rodica.  I am an iele,” the woman said before Yuuma could make the introductions.

“Well, I’ll be,” Thelxiepeia replied.  “A Romanian seduction-fey.  I thought your kind had died out ages ago.  I am glad to see myself proven wrong.”

“Rodica, my dear, this is Thelxiepeia, the siren.  Thel, this is Rodica.  With the two of you working together, the Chosen One doesn’t stand a chance! The Princess will realize her destiny, and we shall be handsomely rewarded,” Yuuma was clearly pleased.

“Why won’t this ‘Chosen One’ stand a chance against us?” asked Rodica of Thelxiepeia.

“Because,” Thel responded with a broad grin, “the Chosen One is a man.”