by Ryan Kirk
Moriko focused her sense on a guard she could see. Everything about him felt right. She returned her focus to the center of the camp where Orochi and Ryuu were, and the two of them were still not fighting. Despite herself, she believed it. Perhaps they would all live through the night.
She settled back in the shadows. There was no reason for her to announce herself if there was no need. She would sit and wait and see how the situation developed. She kept her sense focused on Ryuu as he walked past Orochi. When he reached the room with Takako, Moriko wasn’t prepared for the wave of anger and despair she felt from him. It almost knocked her senseless.
Her curiosity wanted to see what he saw, to know what could generate such feelings. But she knew better. She knew Takako had been broken by her experiences here. Maybe as a rape victim. Whatever the reason, she felt like she had seen enough and more pain would be unnecessary.
She sat confused as Ryuu refused to move and Orochi patiently waited for him. She had never felt Ryuu so inactive before. Moriko shifted her attention from him to Takako and she understood everything. Takako was in incredible pain and was dying. It had been torture then.
Moriko’s own experiences flashed through her mind. Being beaten and stabbed by the Abbot, tied to his floor. Takako had suffered through worse torments during her one day here. And she was innocent, having done nothing more than be loved by a nightblade. Hardly worthy of the pain and suffering she had undergone. It had cost her her life, and unlike Moriko, Ryuu had not come along in time to save her.
Moriko’s anger took hold of her then, a fiery grip that squeezed all the rage out of her. She was stronger than those who were here, and it was time to let them know the nightblades were not dead and would not be hunted like this. Her hot fury froze as cold determination, and she used her sense one last time to get the lay of the place.
She took just a moment and waited for a roving patrol to come too close to her hiding spot. She slid out as they walked by, and with two quick, clean cuts, she severed the life from their bodies. They didn’t even know death was coming until it embraced them, a stranger reaching out from the shadows.
Moriko gave the guards a small amount of credit. Even if she had hoped to, she wouldn’t have been able to return to her hiding space. The alarm was raised in an instant, and she could feel the entire attention of the outpost being turned in her direction. She felt even Orochi’s sense as he noted her presence. Her greatest satisfaction was the small sense of surprise she felt from him. He hadn’t been able to detect her, not even this close.
All thoughts flew through her mind and left without the slightest disturbance. She let them go as she fell into her favorite stance and focused on the present. She kept moving, both to avoid archers and to prevent the guards from trying to box her in. She focused on another pair of soldiers leapt towards them.
The guards may have been prepared, but fear still emanated off them like a stink. Their defense was slow, unfocused, and Moriko moved through them as easily as she would pass between two trees. They fell behind her, but Moriko was already moving on to the next pair.
When Takako died, even Moriko, in the midst of combat, felt it. It felt like a flickering but bright candle had just gone out. The darkness flooded the edges of her vision, and the distraction was almost fatal. Moriko deflected the cut just in time and grimaced as she took stock of her situation. More and more soldiers were converging on her location, and within moments she would no longer be able to pick them off one at a time.
At that moment Moriko sensed someone new approaching, someone stronger than the other soldiers. Perhaps this was the general that Ryuu had mentioned. She backed up a few paces to buy herself time to focus. It gave her the time to sense him clearly. He had Takako’s presence all over him, and in a moment, Moriko knew this was the man who had tortured and killed Takako.
Once the moment of rage passed, his presence gave Moriko pause. She knew Ryuu would want to be the one to kill this man, especially if he was the one who had committed the violence against Takako. She almost held back her attack, but she wanted blood. He was here now and had to be defeated. He felt strong enough to be able to turn the tide of the battle.
The other soldiers halted their attacks in deference to their general. They knew this was personal for him and had the respect to draw back. Moriko took the moment to collect herself. He was strong and his rage ran deep. It would either be the death of him or make him stronger than he had ever been.
With his draw, she saw it would be the latter. His iron control had hardened over his rage, forming a core that would not accept defeat. He was strong and smart. He came in with small controlled cuts, never committing himself to a stroke. Moriko dodged and parried, but did not provide the opening he was hoping for.
The pass concluded in the space of a couple of heartbeats and they separated. Moriko suppressed a shudder of concern. He was strong and fast and controlled. He wasn’t afraid, and he was more than ready to die so long as she came with him. Short of having the sense, he was the most dangerous opponent she could have encountered.
It took an extreme effort, but she pushed all thoughts out of her mind. She settled into her stance and brought all of her focus to the moment. He would make a mistake, and she would make the one cut that would end this.
The world called him back. It had been blissful to lose himself in his grief, to allow the tears and the anger to flood over him, to shut out the outside world in a way his gift, his curse, never allowed him to. Ryuu missed his parents, the vaguest of memories against the relentless tide of time. He missed Shigeru and Takako. He knew that when they joined the Great Cycle they had taken a part of him with them and the only way to be whole again would be to follow them on their journey.
But Moriko kept moving forward, and the battle raging outside the room crashed through even his shut-down sense. Despite an initial attempt, he could not block the sounds of battle coming through the walls. With a deep breath he opened himself back up and felt the world flowing around him, the same as it always did. He imagined, just for a moment, that Takako brushed against him too.
Nori was approaching Moriko. It would be a difficult fight for her. He didn’t even have to focus to feel the absence that was Orochi. He was outside the building, guarding against intruders and watching his protege. No one else knew Ryuu was in the tent. It dawned on him then that Orochi was guarding him. He was giving Ryuu the time and space to mourn his loss.
Orochi’s actions sealed up Ryuu’s heart. Moriko had been right about him. A killer, yes, but an honorable man who followed his own conscience. Ryuu’s anger transformed and cooled into ice, an indestructible calm. He would kill Orochi. But not in anger. Not in vengeance. For justice. For being part of the plan that caused Takako such pain.
He stood up and readjusted his blades. He ran his fingers over the hilt, almost believing he could feel the feminine grip of their original owner. Today was the culmination of almost thirty cycles of waiting and vengeance.
He looked one last time at Takako’s body, but he didn’t feel anything. It was only a shell, an empty vessel, broken like a clay pot, its contents dispersed to the four winds. He knew she was around him, just like every other living thing. He bowed deeply to her body and walked out the door.
Orochi was right where Ryuu expected he would find him. Across the yard, Moriko and Nori had paused their fight momentarily, and Ryuu’s unexpected presence created a commotion throughout the yard. Nori wasn’t in command of himself, unable to spread his focus beyond the point of Moriko’s blade. One loose arrow came in towards Ryuu, but he swatted it away with his bare hand with such a dismissive gesture the other archers on the wall held their shots.
Ryuu stopped in front of Orochi, just out of the range of a quick strike. He hadn’t realized how much bigger Orochi was. Ryuu’s head only came up to his chest. He bowed, more deeply than he had before. “Thank you.”
Orochi nodded. “It was not my way. But Akira placed me under his command. He could not see
beyond his son’s death.”
Ryuu felt a surge of respect for this enemy. He may have killed Shigeru, but he was a good man. He was the most worthy opponent he had faced.
Ryuu made to reach for his blade, but Orochi held up his hand. “A moment, please. I have two items to discuss.”
Ryuu dropped his hand back to a ready position.
“The first is a favor. If I win today, I would like your permission to take your swords. If I lose, I would ask that you bury me with your own, and take mine as an offering.”
The request confused Ryuu until he spoke again. “They were hers.”
Ryuu didn’t even hesitate. “It will be as you say.”
“Thank you. Second, on my person I have a map back to the island Shigeru and I are from. Should I die today, I ask that you would consider going there. I sense a strength in you that is undeniable. They may help you.” He paused, grinning just a moment. “They might also try to kill you or convert you, but that’s a challenge you’d have to face on your own.”
Ryuu agreed and drew his blade. One way or another, everything ended today.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Once Ryuu left the building it was as if a truce had been called on the battlefield. All the soldiers who had rushed to attack Moriko found the warrior they were supposed to be fighting turn up right behind them. The soldiers did not know what Orochi was, but there had been guesses. Where knowledge failed, superstition grew, and it was already believed, despite any evidence, that Orochi was the best swordsman in the camp.
Moriko did have to admit to herself that the two of them threw off a presence. If she had not been used to both of them, she would not have believed it herself, but everyone in the camp could feel the power emanating from the two nightblades. Everyone put down their swords, knowing they were spectators in a clash of steel far beyond their abilities.
Everyone but Nori, so blinded with rage and anger he had shut out everything besides his battle and his target. He moved in quickly, but Moriko could sense him coming, and his conservative strikes couldn’t get near her. If he wanted to win he would have to commit, and once he did he would leave one opening which she would exploit.
His cuts came fast, almost blurring with the speed of his strikes. But his skill was to no avail. Moriko saw every move clear as day before he had even started. Those she couldn’t sidestep she deflected with the side of her sword. She wasn’t in any danger, but she also wasn’t creating any openings for him. He was playing too conservatively for that.
Finally, Nori lost his edge. The rage took over and overwhelmed his control, just for a moment. He wanted so badly to kill her, to maim her. Moriko saw it all. He thought he saw an opening and his cut was strong and committed, everything he would have needed for a victory. But Moriko sensed it, nudged his cut aside and took the opening, cutting deeply through his abdomen.
She didn’t wait or gloat. The strike had surprised him, but he could still be dangerous. In his momentary surprise, the very breath he realized he had been cut fatally, she turned and cut again, slicing through the side of his neck.
And with that, Moriko’s battle was over. It took him a few moments to die, but there was no change in his soul. He died angry and full of rage, a man who had lost his honor.
Moriko didn’t spare the time to watch him die. She wiped her blade and turned around to join the soldiers watching the fight between Ryuu and Orochi.
The first time he had seen Orochi outside the farmhouse, Ryuu had frozen in fear, unable to help his master, the man who had become his father. He had watched, helpless as Shigeru had given his life in an attempt to take Orochi’s. Up until this moment, he had worried it might happen again, that at his core, beneath all his strength, he was a coward.
It was one thing to face men who were not his equals. Mistakes could be made which would end his life, but he was strong and smart and the odds were always in his favor. It was something else entirely to face an adversary just as strong.
Shigeru’s lessons floated somewhere in the back of his consciousness. “Every time you draw your blade, you must be prepared to die. A warrior who goes into battle expecting to live will always be weak. Only by willing to face death is victory possible.”
As with many lessons, Ryuu didn’t understand until later. In this case, it was today. Takako’s death had seen to that. Life or death held no particular distinction for him any longer. His only thought was his blade and how he could direct it against Orochi.
Orochi sprang forward to attack. The movement just barely caught Ryuu by surprise. Orochi contained his intentions so well it was difficult, if not impossible, to sense him. Ryuu simply reacted, giving ground to gain the time necessary to block, parry, and dodge Orochi’s strikes.
When the world snapped, Ryuu hardly noticed it. Somewhere in the back of his mind he realized he still could sense Orochi. He stopped giving up ground, and with a quick cut of his own he drove Orochi back and they disengaged, taking the measure of each other.
Moriko couldn’t believe her eyes or her sense. The engagement hadn’t lasted more than a couple of breaths, but she had never seen swordsmanship of this quality. She had always known, somewhere, both Orochi and Ryuu were better swordsmen than her, but she had always thought herself close. That wasn’t true.
An untrained observer would be hard pressed to tell the difference, but their cuts were just a heartbeat quicker, their reactions faster. Even though she wasn’t fighting she had a hard time tracking their movements.
Ryuu was cut, but he had driven Orochi back with his last move. Moriko had never seen Orochi driven back before.
As her sense wandered over the battlefield, she realized there was something different about Ryuu. The world and all of its energy and all of its life seemed to envelop him, to move through him in a way she had never observed before. He almost didn’t feel human anymore.
Orochi focused his sense on Ryuu and felt the way energy moved through him. Orochi had glanced it before, back before his fight with Shigeru. It had been but the work of a moment and had been gone. But now it had settled on the boy.
He had never thought the stories had been any more than old wives tales. A legend designed to motivate the Warriors of the Path. He had even known some who had claimed to have the power although he had never known for sure.
He knew now. He had never experienced anything like this. The boy had a gift and probably didn’t even realize the extent of his power. Orochi couldn’t shake the feeling that the world had worked its magic to its own ends to create this boy. Too many coincidences. Shigeru had stumbled onto something much greater than he ever could have imagined although maybe he had known all along. It all felt preordained.
Orochi shook his head. He had never believed in anything beyond his own ability. It seemed like a poor practice to start now. Regardless of his own feelings on the subject, he had his honor and his word to uphold.
He smiled to himself. This should be interesting.
Ryuu wasn’t able to process what was happening. The world was different, more vibrant. He could sense the blood flowing from the cut on his chest, but he also knew it was clean and posed no threat to him.
Everything swirled about him. The attention of the onlookers, the cool breeze which passed through the compound. Everything moved and breathed as one. He sensed Orochi’s intention before he started moving, and he didn’t even pause to consider how unusual that should have been.
He sensed how every muscle in Orochi’s body was screaming, pushed to the utmost from a lifetime of difficult conditioning. Idly, he realized Orochi was coming at him with unprecedented speed and power, but it didn’t faze him. Their swords met and met again, and there was going to be an opening, as clear as day, right there.
Ryuu’s cut was true, and though Orochi was quick, the cut moved through him, almost without resistance. Alone it wouldn’t be fatal, not unless it wasn’t treated in the next watch. But it caused Orochi to disengage for the second time, and Ryuu was content to watch h
im retreat.
Moriko was without words. She hadn’t even sensed the two of them. Their movements were too quick. It had lasted but a single heartbeat, but they each must have made four or five moves. Moriko didn’t even know. She couldn’t tell what had happened. She could have sworn they had blurred they were moving so fast.
Orochi had disengaged again, and Moriko could see the cut on the right side of his abdomen. She glanced at Ryuu, and there was no new blood. She went back to Orochi, and her heart went out to him. Despite everything, he was a good man.
He must have sensed it because he turned to her and bowed his head. He knew her thoughts, knew her well. And he accepted her choice. It was enough.
He was incredible. Orochi still had one trick up his sleeve, and the fight wasn’t over, but the boy was the best he had ever seen. He had the gift.
He felt sympathy and glanced over at Moriko. The girl was torn, Nori’s body at her feet. That pleased him. She would pull through, despite everything the monastery had done to her. Orochi was proud. He had created one good thing in his time here. That was enough. He bowed to her and resumed his focus on Ryuu. It was time.
Orochi came again, but Ryuu was ready. He could tell, once again, Orochi was giving all he had, the way a warrior should. He held nothing back, ready for death to claim him.
The moves were quick, and there was the obvious opening. Ryuu took it, plunging his sword deep into Orochi’s belly.
Orochi almost smiled. Shigeru had taught him this trick the last time they had fought. He pushed the pain down, his sword held above his head, ready to make the killing blow, even as he began to die.
Ryuu knew it was too obvious, had known before he even made the cut. He focused his will through a single empty handed blow. His right hand held on to his sword while his left made the strike. He wasn’t prepared for the result.