Scenes from the Empire VIII

 

by Brian Yoon

Edited by Fred Wan

 

 

Kyuden Kitsune

 

“This is preposterous,” Hiruma Aki snarled. He rose to his feet and paced the length of the room. His impressive body structure and his long, flowing hair seemed to dominate the entire waiting room, and his sheer presence dwarfed those of his companions. Kneeling, they watched the Crab from the edge of the room. Kakita Hideo and Kitsuki Taiko broadcasted their emotions on their faces, their expressions a mixture of amusement and annoyance. Yoritomo Saburo wore a mask of stone, impassively staring at the door at the end of the room.

Several moments passed as the Crab continued to fidget. Finally, Hideo stretched and shook his head. “For the love of the kami, sit down and be patient. You’re making me feel cagey just by watching you.”

Aki glared at Hideo but continued to pace undeterred.

“I realize the Crab are not known for anything but bashing skulls,” Hideo continued. He grinned, as if he were simply warming up. “Civilization dictates we must conform to certain rules. Perhaps it’s too much to ask you to have manners.”

Aki stopped and turned to the Crane. “Your ways make me sick,” he growled.

Hideo never stopped grinning. “I would never have guessed that a man like you would have such a weak stomach. I’ll take care to treat you delicately, Aki-san.”

“Enough,” Saburo said firmly. “That was completely inappropriate, Hideo-san.”

Hideo turned to face his companions and his gaze met Taiko’s disapproving stare.

“We are here as companions, Hideo-san,” Taiko said. “Your jests are in bad taste.”

Hideo pursed his lips and nodded. He turned to Aki and bowed. “I apologize, Aki-san, for slipping back into old habits. I will be civil.”

Aki nodded. “So will I. We must keep the peace for the sake of our work.”

“The wait has had its effects on us all, I fear,” Taiko said softly. “Yet what can we do but wait? They only tolerate our presence because of Narako’s word. They will not give us any more than is required by hospitality.”

“They’re more likely to throw us out than listen to our worries,” Aki growled. “This was a bad idea.”

“What else can we do?” Saburo asked. “What else can we expect from the Mantis? The attacks have stopped. All traces of the odd bandits have disappeared. They believe that the threat has passed and their soldiers stand around for nothing.”

“This threat is not over,” Aki growled. “It is merely the calm before the storm. We should be fortifying our defenses for the next attack, not dissipating them across the Empire.”

“How do you know that?” Saburo asked.

“It is every Crab’s duty to stand on the Wall,” Aki said. “I watched the actions of the Shadowlands Horde over the course of several months. They may not be intelligent, but their predatory senses are honed to a razor sharp point. They often attempt to catch us unawares through these lulls in activity. They are always back.”

“This is not the Kaiu Wall, Aki-san,” Saburo said. “We are not facing the Shadowlands. I do not understand exactly what these bandits are, but—”

“I know that the Kuni have scoured the forest for signs of the Taint,” Aki interrupted. “I know they found nothing to point us in that direction. Still, predators are predators. Whatever is out there knows how to hunt and we are its prey. It will not stop until it has killed the prophet, I am sure of it.”

The gravity of his words settled in to the room.

“I do not doubt that you believe strongly in the threat, Aki-san,” Saburo said. “The question is how to convince our superiors of the same.”

“Do you remember, Hideo-san? The first time we met her, she referred to a ‘master of darkness’ who wanted her dead,” she said. “Perhaps Aki’s claim is not far off from the truth.”

Hideo nodded. “So she did. She has never been wrong so far.” He turned to Taiko and grinned suddenly. “I remember she called you the ‘healing dragon,’ Taiko-san. I think it suits you.”

“And you, the prideful warrior,” Taiko replied. “Have you curbed your conceit since we’ve taken up our duties?” She softened the sting of her words with a slight smile.

Aki cleared his throat. “I think one of us should be by Narako-sama’s side. I will return to the village and leave you to deliver the request to the Mantis. Besides, I was never good at pleading.”

Saburo stood. “I will join you, Aki-san.”

Hideo frowned. “Stay with us, Saburo-san. I am sure you can help convince your brethren much better than either of us.”

Saburo shook his head. “I have little sway over the others. Many… do not approve of my actions in the past. I am sure you two will manage without me.” He did not elaborate and no one asked him to do so.

“If the threat is still around as you say, Aki-san,” Saburo continued, “you will need my help if it comes to threaten the prophet.”

Aki simply nodded, but his grin revealed exactly what he thought of that idea.

 

           

Kyuden Bayushi

 

The House of Summer Breeze was not a pretty sight, Soshi Uidori mused. It was a discreet, one storied building in the middle of dozens of buildings that looked exactly the same. The banner that advertised the store’s name, old and tattered from dozens of years of use, desperately fluttered in the wind. It was certainly worse than her usual fare, but she pushed aside the sliding door and stepped inside the building.

The interior of the shop was no better than its exterior. Several rows of undecorated wooden tables filled the room. They were nearly all empty except for a few drunk ronin muttering to each other in the corner. The entire shop smelled vaguely of cats, old clothes, and body odor. Wrinkling her nose, Uidori sat at a table in the middle of the room.

No one appeared to help her for several moments and Uidori bided her time by counting the smudges of grime and dirt that covered her table. She reached twelve by the time a haggard young male stepped out from the back. He quickly smiled widely and bowed.

“Welcome to the Summer Breeze, samurai-sama,” he exclaimed loudly. “It’s such a hot day outside! Would you like something cool and refreshing to cool you down?”

“Do you serve zaru soba?” Uidori asked.

“That is in fact one of the specialties of the house. I promise you will not be disappointed, my lady. One zaru soba coming right up!” The man turned toward the back of the room once more.

“One zaru soba and a quick word with you, Kochako Nikai,” Uidori added quietly.

The words had an immediate effect. The server in front of her immediately froze and he hid his hands from her view. The sound of weapons leaving their sheaths immediately echoed through the room. Uidori turned her head slightly to face the ronin while keeping her eyes fixed on Nikai. The ronin had deadly short blades in their hands and they looked remarkably sober.

“How do you know who we are, Soshi?” Nikai asked without relaxing his stance.

She kept the tone of her voice deliberately light. “We are the Clan of Secrets, but more importantly, a clan who knows how to uncover them. It cannot truly surprise you that I would find out.”

“Perhaps it is inevitable,” Nikai admitted, “but only a handful of outsiders have succeeded over the years. Prove to me you can be trusted with this secret or you will not leave this room alive.”

Uidori removed her mask and placed it on the table in front of her. She caught his gaze with her eyes. “I have known the value of secrets since birth. I will not break yours upon pain of death.”

Nikai’s eyes narrowed. “If you were a Lion or a Phoenix, your word would be enough. We Scorpion understand the need for fluidity, however.”

“I swear never to divulge your secret. I am lady Soshi Uidori, daimyo of the Soshi family, and my word should be all that you require. Have you existed on the outskirts of our clan so long that a word given between Scorpion has lost its meaning?”

She watched him carefully and waited for his response. Nikai stared into her eyes for three moments that lasted a lifetime then released his grip on his weapons. Slowly, he sat down at the table across from her. The two warriors at her back did not seem to relax. “It has been… some time, since I and my family have been around others of our clan with any semblance of loyalty. I apologize for my rudeness.”

“It is the nature of your duty,” Uidori said. “Completely understandable.”

“If I had known who you were,” he continued.

“You would not have threatened my life?” she asked, one eyebrow raised curiously.

Nikai thought for a moment. “Well, I certainly would not have been so overt about it. What have you come to say, Lady Soshi? It is unwise for this meeting to last longer than necessary.”

Uidori itched to put her mask back on but suppressed the desire. “A certain organization within our Clan has uncovered—”

“The Kuroiban,” Nikai interrupted. “We are familiar with them, and vice versa.”

Uidori nodded. “The Kuroiban recently uncovered a cache of scrolls within a small Shosuro outpost long thought to be lost to the enemy. Encased in a box inlaid with jade and crystal were valuable scrolls of meticulously kept records. Among them, I found this scroll.” She reached into her sleeve and pulled out a scroll case. “It is a record of the lineage of the Kochako family, a small vassal family of the Shosuro… and the list of men they have quietly murdered over the centuries.”

“Do not expect me to explain the actions of my ancestors,” Nikai said, his expression turning surly.

“I have the knowledge of the Scorpion Clan at my fingertips,” Uidori replied. “I do not need to ask you for the truth. I researched the victims of your family. All of them were guilty of some crime or other. Those who did not seem to be guilty had much darker secrets hidden by the veil of time, but I uncovered their mysteries. I found an important truth. Your family executes those who betray our Clan.”

Nikai did not reply but simply watched her.

“I need your help, Nikai-san,” Uidori said. Her voice was the closest to a plea it had ever been. “I need your family’s help.”

“We do our duty,” Nikai said. “We find those who are guilty and make sure that they receive what is their due. You say that you need us, but truthfully, we have little need of your patronage.”

“Did you truly find those guilty when the Shadowed Tower menaced our Clan?” Uidori asked, her voice rising.

Nikai’s face whitened. “That was a special case,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

“A special case, perhaps, but you lost dozens of capable assassins to the siren song of an enemy of the Clan,” Uidori said mercilessly. “Many joined the enemy. You did not stop the traitors. The Kochako failed.”

Nikai gripped the edge of the table. His knuckles whitened and small cracks began to appear on the wood.

“Let me act as your compass and your foil,” Uidori said. “I will guide your actions and you will strike among those who do not deserve to bear our name. I shall turn the resources of the Soshi family at your disposal, and you will rip out the disloyal from our ranks.”

“Why should I allow my family to come under your guidance?” Nikai asked. “Should not Shosuro Toson take such a position, if anyone?”

“Toson is quite busy as it is,” Uidori said. She withdrew a scroll bearing a familiar seal, the seal of the Bayushi family. “Lord Paneki agrees that perhaps your skills and mine would be a good match.”

“Lord Paneki,” Nikai said, his eyes examining the seal carefully. “If it is his will, then so be it.”

Uidori smiled disarmingly. “Now, how about those noodles?”

 

           

The Phoenix Lands

 

Horiuchi Yoko placed her hand above her eyes and surveyed the land that lay before her. The scene was breathtakingly beautiful. From her vantage point, perched on a large rock that rose above the line of trees, the mountain and the forest stretched out around her for miles. A refreshing breeze flowed over the trees and the sweet smell of fresh pine reached her nose. The sound of rushing water filled her ears as the waterfall majestically flowed over the cliff. She smiled. This was exactly what she had missed over this past year. Finally, she felt like she was alive.

Yoko slowly made her way closer to the river. Pace yourself, she reminded herself. There is no need to rush and ruin the moment. Simply savor each sensation as they touch you and let it inspire you again.

She knelt on the damp stones and touched the surface of the water. It ran between her fingers and over the back of her palm. The water kami giggled and danced in her presence. They whispered to her, tales of love and growth and warmth and life. She laughed joyfully.

She rose to her feet and took one step back. She raised her hand directly in front of her and began to murmur a prayer to the water kami that surrounded her. This would not be difficult at all, she thought. The water kami rejoiced and eagerly responded to her words, as if they could not wait to satisfy all of her whims.

The kami from the river began to rise in the air, forming beautiful, vivid strands of moving water. The kami danced in midair, eager to please the shugenja. This was what she used to do before the war. This was easy for her, she thought. All she had to do was respond to how the beauty affected her. The kami would do the rest. She closed her eyes to concentrate on the image of the forest, tranquil and peaceful.

A man screamed in pain and clutched uselessly at his right shoulder. The rest of his arm lay at his feet, severed neatly by a samurai blade.

A village burned in the dead of winter and the peasants who called it home dejectedly walked out into the cold wilderness.

Her unit waited as the mass of Lion soldiers drew ever closer. Loud whistling echoed across the battlefield and a thousand arrows filled the air.

Yoko slowly lowered her hands and opened her eyes. The water statue collapsed inwards and rejoined the river. She sighed, sat down at the river edge, and dangled her feet in the current. Next time, she thought.

A sudden wave of unease overcame all of her senses at once and she immediately looked around for any signs of danger. She could see nothing. She slipped her hand into the pouch by her side and tightly grasped one of her meishodo trinkets, a focus of magical power unique to the Unicorn Clan. The sky darkened rapidly and her unease only grew. She rose to her feet and looked around for signs of danger.

Several figures began to slowly gain form around her. At first they were nothing more than faint silhouettes, but soon they grew more distinct. Yoko squinted her eyes. These spirits were rent with vicious wounds and their eyes glowed with a malevolent red glow. She began to mutter out a prayer to the kami, one that would banish these spirits to the realm whence they came.

She finished the prayer, and the kami that had gathered to her side dissipated with no effect. Her eyes widened with horror. The feeling that had started out as unease rapidly grew until it became full blown nausea and rank filthiness. Her throat closed in around her and she began to take shallow, quick breaths to continue to breathe. One of the spirits stepped in front of her and reached out a hand. She immediately thought of the meishodo in her hands and raised it in front of her. The meishodo glowed bright blue and a powerful bolt of lightning smashed into the group. It did not seem to deter them even for a moment.

“Be gone, foul spirits!” The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. The roar of the waterfall suddenly grew unbearably loud. The river rose to impossible heights over Yoko and the spirits that surrounded her. After one frozen moment where it towered over them all, the river crashed down with violent force. The pressure of the water should have knocked her to the ground, yet she did not feel it. Instead, the pounding pressure of nausea slowly faded away.

The sudden flood ended and the river became normal once more. Yoko looked around for the sight of her savior and quickly spotted the hooded man. He approached her at a steady pace and his walking stick punctuated each of his steps with a loud clack.

“Thank you so much,” Yoko called out to her mysterious benefactor. “I do not know what I would have done if you had not arrived.”

The man pulled his hood back and uncovered his head. His aged and lined face was instantly recognizable. “People do not travel near the forests of Morikage lightly, Horiuchi-san,” Asako Bairei, Master of Water, said. “It has become a haven for lost souls, and they are quite dangerous to anyone unprepared to face them.”

Yoko bowed deeply. “I did not know where my travels took me, Bairei-sama,” Yoko said to the ground.

Bairei clucked his tongue. “None of that, now. I head out to the wilderness to avoid such nonsensical behavior. I won’t have it follow me here.”

“Of course, Bairei-sama,” Yoko said. “Thank you, once again, for saving me.”

“I am sorry that my spell lacked finesse, but it was the best I could do under the circumstances,” Bairei said.

“It did not hinder me in any way. My robes will dry,” Yoko said. She suddenly blushed. Her robes were clinging scandalously tightly to her body. Luckily, Bairei seemed not to have noticed at all.

“Come, let us enjoy the rest of this day,” Bairei said. He gestured to the rock where she had once stood overlooking the forest. She dutifully followed him to the rock and they watched the forest together. At first Yoko was scared to even breathe in the presence of one who was much higher status than she, but his easy demeanor began to relax her.

“What brings you to this forest, Bairei-sama?” Yoko asked.

“I am currently involved in a very difficult task, Yoko-san,” Bairei replied. “My assistants worry and fret if I do not step outside of my study, so I try to remember to go outside.” His voice dropped to a murmur. “With this task I can preserve the safety of the empire from a deadly threat, yet I cannot make it work.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Yoko asked. She immediately paled as she realized what she had implied. “I do not know how I could help you since you know everything that I could possibly know—”

Bairei raised his hand and she immediately stopped her babbling. “No Phoenix has ever been foolish enough to believe he knows everything that is relevant. There is some knowledge you posses that could be of assistance, Yoko-san.” He gestured to the amulet, still tightly clutched in her hand.

She followed the gesture and stared at her hand. Realization dawned in her eyes. “The meishodo?”

“A fascinating concept,” Bairei said. “Items of power that call upon the power of the kami without needing to pray to them. Its gaijin beginnings are… distasteful, yet it is one realm of magic I have never studied.”

Yoko bit her lip. “I cannot divulge the secrets of my Clan, Bairei-sama, no matter who asks it of me. I will not.”

Bairei nodded. “I understand, Yoko-san. I do not expect you to betray your Clan.”

“If,” Yoko said tentatively, “if my powers however will help unlock your troubles, I would be more than happy to work by your side until you can figure it out.”

Bairei’s eyes gleamed with happiness. “So be it. The empire is in your debt, Yoko-san. I am in your debt.”

 

           

The pair of samurai walked back toward the village in silence. Soon they left the large road and walked through the forest to take the most direct route to the prophet’s town. Earlier, Saburo mused, they would have never dared to enter the forest while the threat of the bandits hung over them. Now they felt secure enough to do so with no hesitation. Despite what the Crab stated earlier, he thought, things have certainly relaxed.

Saburo glanced at the Crab. His frown did not seem to have lessened at all.

“Tell me, Aki-san,” Saburo asked, “what brought you to these lands and to this quest? The Crab are not known for their beliefs on the mystical.”

Aki brushed past a large branch as they continued to travel deeper into the forest. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “When I first heard of the prophet I dismissed it as a joke. The crazy Mantis, I thought, with their silly superstitions. I vowed only to rely on my weapons and my own personal strength. Yet here I am.”

“She does have a way of pulling a disparate group to her,” Saburo said. “I wonder if we are all meant to play a purpose in the events to come. If we all have a specific role. Was I destined to come and guard her, or did I simply accept an invitation from an acquaintance to do this?”

“If I am to play a role, no doubt I am the brawn of the group,” Aki replied.

“I do not doubt that, Aki-san.”

They continued through the unbeaten path for several minutes before Aki came to a realization. “You are a Mantis samurai.”

“Of course.”

“I hope I did not offend you with my words. Sometimes I do not think before I let myself speak.”

“I know,” Saburo replied. “You did not mean harm by it. There is no point in taking offense at meaningless things.”

Aki smiled, and Saburo thought it was the first genuine smile he had ever seen out of the Crab. “I don’t generally hear of such an attitude outside the Crab lands.”

“I’m a simple man,” Saburo said. “I don’t intend to complicate it with silly misinterpretations.”

Aki nodded and turned around. “Did you see that?” He pointed to the west.

Saburo searched the area but did not catch anything out of the ordinary. “What was it?”

“I don’t know,” Aki said. “It was something large but dark. It moved faster than anything I’ve ever seen before.”

“Was it Shadowlands?” Saburo asked.

“No,” Aki said but Saburo could hear the hesitance in his voice.

“Perhaps we should keep an eye out for it to show up once again.”

“In a way I wish it were the Shadowlands,” Aki said. “Then I would know exactly what to do and how to feel in this situation.”

“I suppose the procedure is simple,” Saburo said. “All you need to do is destroy them.”

“I’ve devoted every single moment of my life to destroying the Shadowlands,” Aki said quietly. “I lived at the dojo and learned to lose myself in cold fury in midst of combat. I honed these techniques to fight that dark threat. I never thought I’d take myself away from the Wall. Voluntarily, even. I must be out of my mind.”

Saburo glanced around and frowned. “Aki-san,” he said carefully, “when did it become so dark?”

Aki stopped and looked around him. The sky had indeed darkened, yet there was no sign of clouds in the sky. It was simply as if the sky had muted itself. Saburo looked around him, his senses on full alert. The darkened sky transformed the forest into an unwelcome place, filled with shadows. Even though he was ready for some sort of threat, he was unprepared for what surrounded them. Hundreds of eyes glowed red just beyond the trees, watching them with hunger. The sound of gnashing teeth filled the air and a deep bass chuckled in amusement just out of sight.

Aki snarled and drew his tetsubo from the sling on his back. He rushed toward the voice and shouted a fierce kiai. Saburo drew his katana and rushed in behind him, ready to support the Crab even against these overwhelming odds. They jumped through the line of trees…

…and found an empty clearing, devoid of life. Aki knelt to the ground and picked up a small piece of cloth pinned to the ground. It was a headband, ragged and tattered from the stresses of time. He rose to his feet and handed the cloth to Saburo without comment.

The Yoritomo took the cloth and quickly examined it. He clenched his fists. “They are back, then,” he said.

“No,” Aki replied. “They never left. Now they are ready to make their next attack.”