by Hugo Damas
He finally turned around. The man’s clean-shaven chin was present under hard and skinny cheeks, and those stood firmly under a forehead which accentuated his curious eyes. He looked at the shadow lenses for the briefest of seconds, and again, betrayed no consideration.
He did, eventually, look up at her.
“Tell me everything, Shadow. Every single detail.”
After she finished retelling all of the events, she felt a little more at liberty for frankness.
“I am embarrassed, master,” she admitted, now that the formalities were sort of over. “Without the Sorcerer and the Hunter, I would never have found the lenses. Without the Circus Freak, I would never have escaped with them. And without the Street Rat, I would not have gotten here so fast. Maybe not at all.”
Ayane brushed her forehead against the ground, thereby losing sight of him. “My accomplishments are not my own,” she admitted, regrettably.
She heard the lenses scraping against the ground, being lifted and handled. There would be nothing to hear, ordinarily, but within the silence of that room, anything could be heard. Even their breathing.
Minutes went on without him saying anything. Ayane felt he might be trying to find mercy on her, to think of reasons for avoiding the necessity to replace her, but this was against even her wishes, and she wanted to let him know that…someway.
Ayane wanted him to know it was okay, and probably even better, for him to replace her.
“I do not grovel as I say this, master. I understand if you wish to bestow them upon someone else,” Ayane said, dutifully.
He breathed out with a bit of disappointment. She could feel his gaze upon her. “You do not wish to be the Shadow?”
Her eyes opened in reaction. What she wanted was battling with what she knew should be said.
Resigning herself, she closed them shut again. “My will matters naught. I live for the glory of the clan.”
Again he sighed, and soon after, she sensed him reaching out to her. There was no physical contact as his voice asked her, “look up, Shadow.”
She did. She found him extending both his hands to her, holding the lenses.
“You became the Shadow. None at Kagekawa will ever treat you by your past name because it is in the past. You are the Shadow.” He bowed his head to allow her to take the lenses.
But she hesitated.
“I…may not be the right Shadow.” She tried to word it correctly. Respectfully, “to face this invasion.”
He simply nudged his hands towards her.
“You are the Shadow. Now take your lenses, go to your quarters and await my command.”
It was always ironic to her how waiting for a command was, in fact, a command.
In any respect, it was done and decided. She would still remain the Shadow, and as she reached and took the lenses, one in each hand, she did not know how to feel about that.
Ayane had been certain she would be replaced with someone more capable. More experienced.
However, she wouldn’t argue with her master. He knew what he was doing, but she truly hoped there was something more than the adherence to customs and traditions behind his decision.
The Shadow had the ground swallow her up, vanishing from his sight so she could, very gladly, see herself to her room.
Whatever relief she felt when she saw the fortress had nothing on how she felt once she entered her chambers. They were quite notable, one of the very few perks of being the Shadow. She had a room filled with tatamis which were looked after daily, kept clean and fresh, so much so that she had to fight very hard to not just dive into them.
Instead, she headed to the washroom. It had a small pool made out of a large wooden container into which hot water was poured from a bamboo drainer, directly from a hot-spring located inside the mountains.
It was almost supernatural, some of the things they had engineered, and how naturally it was engineered. None of it felt like technology even though, in the true sense of the word, it was.
Ayane stripped down from her uniform, caring only enough to put the lenses on top of a small counter where health and beauty products were located, most of which she didn’t, in fact, use. The rest of the clothes just stayed on the ground while she stepped into the shower in delight.
Time went by unnoticed. Ayane wasn’t at the ready to respond a summons but, technically, she was waiting very well.
Ayane was still in the bath when a visitor came knocking, almost an hour later. The door to the bathroom was not even closed, so she flinched and dived inside the steam in reaction. Peeking out, she noticed that the door was slid close enough that she would feel comfortable about not being bothered by eyes on her. Only then did the visitor speak.
“You should have taken this opportunity to sleep, Shadow.”
Ayane smiled keenly, recognizing the voice of her favorite teacher.
“Do not call me that, teacher Mitsue. Use my name,” she complained, “you saw to my growth, you have seen my privates. Tended to them even.”
“By the ancestors,” the gruff old voice protested, all flustered, “the things you say! You were just an infant!”
She giggled to herself. Ayane enjoyed her teacher a lot, he was like a father even though he was no longer her actual master. So that made him…just a really close friend. An old one too.
“That girl has vanished, you know this. Only her Shadow remains,” Mitsue added.
“The shadow lives on,” she said thoughtfully. “I know I should have slept, but I had not washed in days. I was filthy.”
“Well, you are summoned to appear before the grand master,” he said.
“What?” Ayane furrowed her brow. “Already?”
“Sputzna has fallen,” he said sadly…and gravely, “and Prussha. Mist reports that the mystical fog continues to expand without stop. Estimations are that they will reach Japien before the week is over.”
Mist was the name for their spy group. Shadow their thief, Darkness their assassin. More importantly, only a week? Ayane felt the pressure in his voice.
“They are apparently heading straight for Kagekawa,” he added, dramatically.
“While taking everything in its path,” Ayane added, noticing his murmuring nods, even though she couldn’t hear or see them. She knew him so well she was sure he was doing it.
Still, the news were terrible, and she could no longer keep her good mood, no matter how great the water felt.
“It is my fault, is it not?” Ayane asked, silently. “That they are heading here first.”
“You did what you should have done. They respond in such a way because they fear the Shadow.”
Ayane brought a hand to her face with a heavy sigh. Succeeding in her gamble had only made things worse, and yet, the responsability was still hers to shoulder.
“I will be honest,” Ayane said frankly, with words she shouldn’t say, in a tone she shouldn’t use. “I fear them twice as much.”
The silence dragged on as her once-father thought of what to say. She observed the steam dissipating against the ceiling, silently and slowly resigning herself to what fate had delivered her to live through. Ayane strived to accept her duty and get out of the bath.
“That is beneath you,” his voice came out, calmly but still clearly insulted. “Now get dressed and meet me outside.”
Ayane gave one silent laugh and shook her head.
She bent back and breathed out in a calm.
That was true, it was beneath her. Such were the expectations Ayane had vowed to meet. Given her life for, even.
Being a human being was beneath the Shadow.
Within the hour, Ayane found herself lined up with the other two great agents of Kagekawa, facing the stalwart figure of The High Priestess. She regarded them coldly.
“Shadow,” her voice sounded out. “Darkness. Head of Mist.”
The Darkness was creepy to her. He wore the dark tattered cloak, or rather, he had it on him. He was standing knee-deep in the shade of the dark-lit roo
m, and as always, fully covered by the cloak. He was something out of a nightmare. The most she could see of him were his hands, chalk white and lithe, and that was when he allowed them to peek outside. He had to kneel and kowtow, same as her, so his hands rested on the floor over his head.
The Head of Mist was the leader of the Kagekawa spy network, their spymaster, and he was fully clothed in mostly bandages. They contained drawn patterns and were wrapped around him in such a way that it created optical illusions from most points of view. All the agents of Mist dressed like that, but he had a special pattern on the back of his head, of an eye, to identify him as the leader.
Her own garments were far less impressive, but she felt the most comfortable in them. She had designed them herself since it would be what she would be wearing for most of her continued existence. Supposedly. Secretly, however, she had mostly designed it to look…cooler. Even if it sacrificed a bit of stealth.
The High Priestess looked over to Ayane, she sensed it even without seeing it.
“Why do you not don the shadow lenses…?” Her tone held accusation, and that scared Ayane.
She gulped and steeled her nerves, similarly to if she was in a battle. “I have them with me. I was not instructed on whether there was a… unique way to put them on.”
That was half-true. The other half was that she really doubted they would be comfortable and really didn’t want to put them on.
“Close your eyes,” the priestess demanded a bit impatiently, and the Shadow obeyed. “Retrieve your lenses.” She obeyed.
“Had you a proper mask, this would be easier,” the voice complained, tersely.
The Shadow remained quiet in respect towards the most Occult and simply sat still on her legs.
“One in each hand. Put them over your eyes so that you feel them all-encompassing. Let them take over your eyebrows and upper cheek, and the sides.”
The Shadow obeyed.
“Now hold them there. Do not move them an inch. Shall we get started, meanwhile?”
By all means, this is the best way for me to have the respect of my peers. Ayane felt ridiculous, with her hands held up against her eyes in such an uncommon way.
“Yes,” said the very serious, ancient voice of Naokiren, the grand master of Kagekawa. He was hidden behind thick blanket curtains that held the symbol of the Kagekawa. His voice almost made her stop breathing. “Head of Mist, report.”
“Grandmaster,” the voice whispered, calmly. “Latest reports indicate they will have conquered Kazajsh by tomorrow. Their forces outrun their mist, however, which I believe betrays a rush.”
“Totomi,” the voice requested and Totomi, the grand master’s right hand and actual lord of the lands -- the man of the people -- spoke in response.
“Good news and bad news. Good news is most every ruling house in the eastern territories is taking this invasion very seriously. Runsshia officially owns the territories under attack and has dispatched their greatest general to lead an allied military force to deal with them. As per your instructions, we have contributed half our Mist agents to act as scouts.”
He paused, most likely awaiting a comment of some sort, but Ayane imagined he simply received a nod.
“The Shadow Conclave has issued a request that we contribute to their efforts as well. They wish the Shadow to cooperate with them.”
“Does this army have any chance of succeeding in their task? And putting an end to this threat?” It was Neniko, the high priestess, who asked.
“No,” Totomi firmly replied without hesitation, and Ayane’s heart fell a bit, even if it wasn’t surprising to hear it. She maintained composure in any case, or as much of it as she could with her hands over her eyes. “According to the reports provided by both the Shadow and Mist, they are either supernaturally or technologically beyond anything we can defeat. It will, however, delay their advance. Possibly.”
“The Shadow Conclave,” the Grandmaster said, quietly and cautiously, “what exactly constitutes as their efforts?”
“Fulfilling the prophecy,” Totomi replied.
“A foolish endeavor,” the priestess argued. “The Sorcerer is dead, the Dark Runner is dead. Even the Eye is dead. And our Shadow is but a whelp under her cowl. Besides, should the prophecy not have been fulfilled already?”
“I do not believe in prophecy,” Totomi stated, “so on that issue, I have nothing to say.”
Ayane was pissed that she had been called a welp, albeit behind her silent demeanor. Ever hiding her thoughts, she saw herself kidnapping the new leader of the Beasts, the one who had almost crushed the lenses -- the very same she was now holding up to her face -- and bringing him to Neniko. She would have the mean old hag wake up to him so she could get scared, maybe even cry, and the Shadow would be holding her arms crossed. She would ask: “who is the whelp now?”
Then she felt bad for thinking such things about the most Occult, the high priestess, and instead started wondering whether Neniko would remember to tell her when to take off the hands from the lenses. Had she forgotten?
“Do they truly head here?” asked the Grandmaster.
“That was an early estimate,” the Head of Mist whispered again. “It has been noticed…since then…that they spread in all directions.”
“They spread with the fog,” Totomi confirmed, “in all directions.”
“By the ancestors,” the Priestess gasped, and it was right at that moment that Ayane felt it.
She didn’t have enough confidence to let go, but she felt the lenses all of a sudden. An ethereal mass came into existence over her eyes, as if she had grown an extra layer of skin and only now noticed. Ayane opened her eyes and, surprisingly, she could see her hands very clearly. The space between the fingers, the pores in her skin. Still, she was afraid to let go.
That the shadow lenses would fall and she would look the fool.
“The kingdoms and governments in the West do not see this as their problem. I believe they are convinced we will squash it before it turns into anything that might affect them,” Totomi explained.
“Blind to all outside their grasp…as always,” the Grandmaster decreed.
“It is graver than that,” the priestess put forth. “Mist has confirmed the Shadow’s report. Whatever they do to the land, it is robbing it of its shadow.”
“Yes. That is, by far, the gravest of consequences as far as the Beasts are concerned. They bring true death wherever they go.”
Neniko didn’t answer, Ayane pictured her bowing in agreement.
Silence then settled as the Grandmaster thought of what their steps would be. Any true leader always had silence as a long buffer before making important decisions, and Grandmaster Naokiren was no exception. Old enough to be her great-grandfather, he had led Kagekawa through all manner of terrible and dangerous situations.
“Head of Mist,” he started. “I wish to know about their progression. Every location they overcome. Every turn they take.”
He must’ve nodded because he didn’t say anything in return.
“Darkness,” he added, and the cloak fluttered ever so gently in response. “You will be a part of this military endeavor. Lead the agents of Mist involved and follow the general’s commands, but if you have the chance to assassinate any high-value elements, take it. Make certain, however, that no matter the outcome of the battles, there will always be a survivor. For the sake of information.”
Again, no reply.
“Shadow.” It had to be right now. Neniko would say something that would allow her to lower her hands, but nothing like that happened.
The Shadow just sat there, uncomfortably holding her hands over her eyes.
“We would do well to know how the Shadow Conclave progresses, but they are beyond the reach of our Mist, as they have always been. Go to them, as requested, and collaborate. Relay back to us all that you learn while you endeavor to succeed in your tasks beyond what is expected of you.”
Her heart shuddered, and she let go of the lenses so sh
e could bow properly in gratitude for the trust being placed in her. In it, were words of praise, and from the Grandmaster himself. She felt wrest awake from weak emotions, burning with the desire to be worthy of all of it, irrespective of what her real feelings might be.
The lenses didn’t fall. Instead, she could now see the floor beyond the shades that were on it. The oddest thing about it all was that she could now see past the Darkness’s cloak.
Only her peripheral vision caught on, but his near-naked body pulled her attention in an instant. She retained composure but couldn’t help taking in the thin, sly figure beneath the Darkness’s cloak. It looked so less intimidating now that she could see through to it.
Ayane recognized the body shape, she was sure of it.
“You will remember that you represent Kagekawa most directly.” The tone of voice snapped her out of her momentary stare, and Ayane again turned to the floor. “We must stand superior to all other clans, houses, and entities of government. We must be feared. We must be respected. But most of all…”
The voice of the grandmaster became grave.
“This is a blight upon our world, and I have no doubt they seek to extinguish us and all that our ancestors sacrificed to build. It must be stopped. We must be instrumental in all efforts that lead to it, but most of all… it must be stopped.”
Ayane gulped before the pressure but did her best not to show it. It was so much more responsibility than she had expected.
She had tried to pass it on, but it was hers, by the will of all her seniors and masters, to the highest degree. Ayane had to cope. She had to succeed.
She was the Shadow.
“For the glory of Kagekawa,” they all said
Priorities
Heights were one of the most foreign experiences to the Hunter. Tall buildings were something. The far mountains of the Magni, towering over the clouds, had been another, and a sight she thought would forever be the oddest.
Visiting the inner sanctum of the Tech Guild, however, was the ultimate foreign experience.
Zaniyah looked out the window since it truly was the only way for her to even see anything that was normal. She was on a tower of eighty floors, and growing, which was home to almost every individual that was either interested in inventions or an inventor himself. Not scientists, no one inside researched anything or advanced any kind of knowledge, much less to share it. No, that tower was the world of gadget worshipers in competition to create the greatest of them. It was an isolated sub-world of technology, full of steam and the more recently discovered electricity, and these were running everywhere to power a reality made of metallic gray and bronze rust.