To Save What Can Be Saved

 

by Shawn Carman

Edited by Fred Wan

 

 

Toshi Ranbo was the Imperial City, the capital of Rokugan, and as such was one of the largest cities in the Empire. It had not always been, however; less than a decade previously, Toshi Ranbo had merely been an oft-besieged city that straddled the border between the lands of the Lion and Crane clans, and had changed hands frequently during near constant border skirmishes. The previous Imperial City, however, had been destroyed during a battle with demonic oni from the Shadowlands, and Toshi Ranbo had ultimately been chosen as the seat of power for the new Emperor, Toturi III. In the nine years since, the city had seen massive, almost unchecked growth, resulting in a strange amalgamation of styles and architecture in a haphazard layout that often confused first time visitors.

Isawa Kyoko found the city’s diversity intoxicating. Throughout her young life, she had never set foot beyond the Phoenix provinces until her gempukku, only a few short weeks before the recent fighting within Toshi Ranbo. Not a day went by that she did not desperately wish that she could have first seen it before the battle had ravaged much of the city. Despite that the city was being rapidly rebuilt, in its current condition, it was still much like a beautiful work of art marred by a terrible flaw or scar. And yet that was not the greatest difficulty that Kyoko was experiencing. There was something else, something that weighed upon her every waking moment and haunted her dreams. She had struggled with it for months now, and could contain “herself no longer. She needed answers. She needed peace.

The Temple of the Seven Fortunes was perhaps the largest and greatest temple in all of Toshi Ranbo. Certainly it attracted the most visitors, as thousands came in and out of it each day. The monks who tended to the temple were quiet and unassuming, and went about their daily tasks with such discretion that often Kyoko was not even aware of their presence. Today, she had chosen to attend a ritual of prayer that was conducted each morning at dawn by one of the Phoenix Clan’s most celebrated sensei. With her own sensei several days” travel away, back home in the Isawa provinces, Kyoko was without guidance, and where better to seek it than in the wisdom of Isawa Sawao?

As the ceremony ended, individual Phoenix began to drift off into the city to begin their duties for the day. Most were Isawa, but there were a handful of others there as well. A few Agasha and Asako, and even a Shiba bushi or two. Her teachers had always told her that the other clans were not so pious as the Phoenix, and that it was rare for samurai other than shugenja and a few of the most pious bushi to attend temple services regularly. Kyoko was not entirely certain if that was the truth or merely hyperbole, but she had remembered it for many years all the same.

At the head of the temple, Sawao and one of his students were conversing as they made preparations for some other ritual. Uncertain as to whether or not she should interrupt them, Kyoko hung back for a few moments, watching them. Sawao was the only shugenja she had ever known to carry both the katana and the wakizashi. The wakizashi, shorter of the two blades, signified an individual’s status as a member of the samurai caste. Kyoko wore one on her hip, as did virtually all shugenja save for the most devoted pacifists who refused to carry any sort of weapon. The longer katana, on the other hand, was carried by warriors, and to carry one was an indication that the bearer was both familiar with its use and willing to use it If the occasion demanded. Isawa Sawao, despite that he was a shugenja, was known not only as a sensei of other shugenja, but also a teacher of Iaijutsu, the ancient art of personal dueling. The katana on his hip was in no way ornamental, and Kyoko had little doubt that Sawao had had occasion to use the blade during his long lifetime, perhaps even recently.

Kyoko frowned at the thought. It was that manner of thinking that had given her such pause. In recent weeks and months, and it was that matter she wished to discuss with Sawao. Had she chosen poorly in seeking his guidance? Was the katana on his hip an indication that he would not understand her dilemma? As the young shugenja stood considering the matter, the student with whom the sensei was conversing glanced at her and then said something to Sawao. The old man looked over at where she was standing and smiled, beckoning her to step forward. Steeling herself, Kyoko crossed the room to speak with him.

“Greetings, my child,” Sawao said warmly. “I have not seen you in attendance at our morning ceremony before. I hope that it was of some comfort to you in these troubling times.”

“It was, sensei, thank you,” she said, bowing very deeply before him. “I wish to thank you for conducting it for our benefit and, if I may presume to do so my lord, I wished to speak with you briefly if you had the time to spare on one such as myself.”

“Do not be ridiculous,” the old man said with a smile. “What good is a sansei that cannot make time for students? Have we met before, my child? I do not recognize you, but age can play tricks on the mind.”

“We have not met, sansei,” she said. “I am Isawa Kyoko.”

Sawao considered for a moment “The new Acolyte of Air studying under Tamori Nakamuro?”

She blushed. “No, sensei, You are thinking of Isawa Umeko. I am, but an Initiate.”

“Ah” he said. “Forgive me. As I said, age plays tricks on the mind. You already know of me, apparently. This is my student, Isawa Takesi. How can I help you, child?”

Kyoko licked her lips nervously. Now that she was finally in a position to ask the questions that plagued her, she could not think of a way to ask them that did not seem treasonous. She struggled for a moment, hesitating, and then Sawao lifted his hand. “Be at ease, child. I can sense your turmoil. I believe I know the questions you would ask.”

“You do?” she asked, unable to keep the hope from her voice.

Sawao nodded. “You are young. When did you undergo your gempukku ceremony, little one? A few months before our march to the capitol?”

“Weeks,” she said softly.

“You were among Takesi’s contemporaries, then,” Sawao nodded. “You have been taught your entire life that the way of the Phoenix is peace, that life must be valued above all else. Yet, within a week of receiving your blades when you formally became an adult, our clan marched upon the Imperial City and took control of it. This weighs upon you, does it not?”

“It does,” she answered quietly. “I have difficulty sleeping or even concentrating on my duties.”

Sawao was quiet for a moment, then slowly nodded. “That is not particularly surprising,” he said.

Kyoko could scarcely believe her ears, “Are... are you certain? There are others who feel the same way? Then, I am not...”

“Not at all unusual,” Sawao confirmed. “There are many Phoenix that I have known for decades that initially questioned what we have done here, but in time they have come to see the wisdom of our path.” He smiled again. “You simply lack the proper perspective, Kyoko-san. A common drawback of being young, I’m afraid.”

“If it is not too forward of me to ask, sensei, how did your associates come to terms with their doubts?” She hesitated for a moment. “I do not wish to be disloyal, even if only to myself.” Sawao chuckled. “Ah, to see the world with such fresh eyes again. I do not mean to make light of your troubles, however,” He grew more serious. “To begin, let us examine the impetus for our march. Why did we come here, Kyoko-san? What drove us to this point?”

Kyoko nodded and thought for a moment. The Unicorn army was marching upon the capital city,” she began. “The Lion withdrew their forces from their battle with the Dragon Clan to defend the city. The conflict between the Dragon and Crane was close at hand as well, and a sizeable force of Mantis samurai were present within the city as well. Combined with the Imperial forces, the men following the Shogun, and the countless other samurai visiting the city, the situation was... unstable.”

“Explosively so,” Sawao agreed. “With so many forces coming together so suddenly, there could be but one outcome: war. Something the Phoenix have striven to prevent at all costs for the majority of our existence.”

“But how can we accomplish peace through war?” Kyoko blurted out “How can adding yet another army to the forces mixing at the Imperial City have seemed the appropriate course? It could just have easily ended in a far worse disaster.” The young shugenja’s eyes widened as she realized what she was saying. She dropped to the floor, kneeling before Sawao. “Forgive me, sensei! I spoke out of turn.”

“Nonsense,” he said softly. “Rise, little one. Come with me. There is something I wish to show you,”

 

           

A short time later, the three shugenja found themselves walking down a quiet street In one of the more heavily damaged sections of the city. Sawao said nothing for most of the walk, leaving Kyoko to wonder if she had in some way offended the sensei despite his claims to the contrary. Finally, he asked a question without turning around. “What do you know of Otosan Uchi?”

“Very little,” Kyoko admitted.

“Takesi?”

“The former capital was established by the first Emperor,” Sawao’s student said instantly. “It existed for over a thousand years, and was badly damaged by a number of major battles, including the Battle of White Stag, the second Day of Thunder, and finally the Shadowlands” assault upon the Imperial Palace a decade ago, among many others.”

“It was the Shadowlands’ forces that destroyed the city, was it not?” Kyoko asked.

“No,” Sawao answered. “Weeks after that battle was concluded, it was the Lion Clan that destroyed Otosan Uchi.”

Kyoko nearly stopped in place as she walked. “Why?”

“They believed that the city was cursed. They believed that so much evil had happened there that it could not be redeemed, and that to constantly rebuild it would only exhaust the Empire’s resources, They razed it to the ground, leaving virtually nothing intact. A thousand years of tradition, gone in an instant” The sensei stopped before a demolished building and gestured, “Do you know what this building was, students?”

“No, sensei,” they replied In unison.

“It was an Imperial library, one of many maintained throughout the city by the Miya family, It contained documents of great age and prestige, many of which had no other copies in existence.” He turned to face the students. “What of them now?”

“They are gone,” Kyoko said quietly.

“They are gone,” Sawao repeated. “Just as Otosan Uchi is gone. Destroyed, not by the forces of fate, but by the greed, ambition, and fallacy of men. The Phoenix are not without these same sins, but we recognize and grow from our failures. Others refuse to see the errors in their own behavior, and are doomed to repeat them. If we had not arrived, what do you think would have become of Toshi Ranbo? What of those who fought for control over the city?”

Kyoko looked around and the demolished buildings. “it would have been destroyed,” she answered. “The deaths would have been... incalculable.”

“Yes,” Sawao agreed, “And by our arrival, by our Intervention, despite that It was in defiance of what we believe, what was accomplished?”

Kyoko nodded, understanding the point the old sensei strove to make. “We stemmed the loss of life. We saved what could be saved and contained the damage to what could not.”

Sawao smiled, but it was a sad expression. “On the first night after we took control of the Imperial City, I wept. I wept for those whose lives had been lost, for those we could not save. But I rejoiced for those that lived because the Council of Elemental Masters had the strength and the conviction to do what must be done, what only the Phoenix could do. There will always be war, little Phoenix, that cannot be changed. But if by intervening we can save lives, is it not our responsibility to do so? If we can change the world, then are we not obligated to do exactly that?”

“Yes,” Takesi answered at once. “We must lead by example. We must inspire those without our conviction to better themselves.”

“And most difficult of all,” Sawao cautioned, “we must do so without succumbing to the hubris that has always crippled our clan. Remember that, young Takesi.”

“Hai, sensei,” the young man said, bowing. “I apologize.”

“I apologize as well,” Kyoko said, bowing deeply. “I did not fully consider the matter. I have wasted your time with my foolishness, when the answers should have been obvious.”

“Obvious? Hardly.” Sawao shook his head. “There is much that must be done yet. We have saved a city, but can we yet save an Empire? The throne sits empty, and the other clans will not temper their ambition simply because we will not allow this sacred city to be destroyed. There will be war. The only question is, how can we save what lives can be saved?”

Isawa Takesi looked toward the Imperial Palace, gazing at the mighty Fire Dragon that coiled about its tallest towers. “Perhaps, then, if only the Elemental Council has the wisdom to govern this city, they should govern the Empire as well.”

“A dangerous thought,” Sawao said. “Do we advocate such a thing for the betterment of the Empire? Or is it arrogance and ambition that drives us to see ourselves as the solution to a disastrous situation?”

“How can we know the difference, sensei?” Kyoko asked.

The old man offered his sad smile again and looked to the Imperial Palace. “My question can only be answered by someone far wiser than me, little one,” he said. “And I wonder if any among us has the wisdom for such a decision.”