Nightblade Boxed Set

by Ryan Kirk

  The Abbot was a different matter. He possessed an affinity with the sense Moriko didn’t understand. She thought she could best him if she understood his powers. But it was rare for him to display his full power, so she had little opportunity to assess him. She tried to remember what combat with him had been like, but her mind was unwilling to recall the specifics of a day she’d rather forget.

  Her uncertainty and her training with Orochi put her in an awkward position in more ways than one. She desired to leave and was confident she had the ability to leave without worry of pursuit. But she didn’t know what she would do if she left. She respected Orochi, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to live like him. She was almost of full adult age, but she didn’t know how to exist in the world outside of the monastery walls. Her skill sets weren’t conducive to finding typical employment.

  She used to find solace in the routine and rules of the monastery, but now the rules didn’t apply to her. No monk came to order her around, and no monk came to invite her to anything. Every time she saw one of them glance at her, she knew she was outcast. She had been angry at first, but as time wore down her anger she realized the monks were just as uncomfortable as her. She had fought with them and tried to defeat a man they all looked up to. In their minds she was a traitor. A traitor only alive by the grace of the Abbot. She did not belong with them.

  For a couple of days after Orochi left Moriko wandered around aimlessly, hoping someone would invite her into their activities. But the monks left her alone, ignoring her as though she was a ghost. She wasn’t accepted, but no one reprimanded her either.

  In time she began training again. She had to do something and so she continued with the practices she knew. She woke up early in the morning with all the other monks and joined in their morning calisthenics. Afterwards she forced herself to meditate for most of the morning, focusing on her sense-abilities in the manner Orochi had taught her. She focused on being invisible to others and worked on expanding her own sense. Orochi taught her there wasn’t any limit to the reach of the sense. It was more a matter of how much information you could train your mind to comprehend. The further out your sense stretched, the more information your mind was forced to deal with. If it could handle it your sense would continue to expand. Once the mind couldn’t process all the information the sense wouldn’t stretch any further.

  Moriko practiced. She focused on sensing everything happening in the monastery, on all life big and small. Once she could handle that amount of information she expanded her sense one pace at a time, tendrils flickering out and reaching new distances. It was a slow process, but Orochi had emphasized patience, and over the course of a couple of moons, Moriko made significant progress. She had learned to reach out several dozen paces farther than she had when Orochi left.

  She would join the monks for the community lunch and then train her combat skills. Orochi had opened her eyes to a new system of martial skills, and Moriko worked diligently to master them. It was much more difficult without a partner, but she was determined to be strong enough to fight her own battles. She imagined the voice of Orochi in her mind correcting her technique.

  As Moriko got stronger, life in and out of the monastery continued to participate in the Great Cycle. Moriko didn’t think much about events until an incident that occurred in the deep of winter. Goro had left again in a joyous mood. Moriko, who had become an experienced observer of all the patterns of the monastery, suspected he had left to go hunting for future monks. The search for new monks was never-ending. Monks were always leaving to test new students, but few enjoyed the process of separating children from their families as much as Goro.

  Goro’s departure made Moriko reflect upon her own life. She thought back to her own arrival at the monastery, how much she had hated Goro and how much she had hated living at the monastery. She had fought against it so hard and had been the last child in her cohort to entertain the idea of escaping the monastery. She realized, with a start, she no longer hated the monastery in the same way. She still hated its practices, but she didn’t hate living here anymore. Even though she had the skills to escape she was more comfortable here and didn’t leave.

  The sudden knowledge surprised her. When had she stopped dreaming of leaving the monastery? It must have been around Orochi’s arrival. She had been ready to resist training until death. But he had shown her a new way, a path she had never considered before. She had never imagined she could become so strong.

  But by becoming stronger, her desire to live had increased. She had the power to make change now, no longer helpless in the world.

  Her train of thought led her to thinking about the type of girl she had been growing up with her parents, what type of life she had dreamed for herself back when she had only seen five cycles. Her dream had been to be in the deep woods, her first love. She wanted to be among the trees, sensing the mystery of life and death that was so prevalent everywhere in the wilderness.

  A couple of moons ago, the thought would have made her chuckle at her foolish youthful ambitions. Today though, watching Goro leave on his task, it made her sad that she had lost her dream. She searched her memory, trying to find the love of the wild she had once held, the desire to break all constraints and live within the Great Cycle. But she couldn’t find it, the memory erased by the slow passage of time.

  In Goro’s absence, Moriko tried to forget the realization of her change. She threw herself into her training, focusing only on the task before her. It helped, but there was still the nagging feeling in the back of her mind she had lost something, a key piece of herself that had been erased so gradually she never knew it had happened.

  Goro returned two days later. He wasn’t alone. He returned with a small girl slung over the back of his horse and tied down. His arrival made Moriko frown. There was rarely any reason to tie somebody up. It lacked a certain amount of confidence. It got everything off on the wrong foot. She observed the situation and threw out her sense.

  The girl was boiling with rage. Moriko didn’t need her sense to understand that. But she sensed something wasn’t quite right with Goro. She opened her eyes and looked. He was moving with some pain and it dawned on Moriko that the girl had gotten the best of him. She had cut him somehow. The thought of a little girl getting the drop on Goro was funny enough that she let out a full grin. She already liked the new girl.

  The thought cracked Moriko’s fragile defenses. The girl was just like she had been, but Moriko had become a part of the system she despised. If the girl looked at her she would see just another monk, not someone separate or superior to the man who had stolen her from her family.

  The events transpiring in front of Moriko brought her attention front and center. Goro wasn’t just injured, he was furious. He cut the rope holding her to the horse, but he didn’t untie her wrists or ankles. She slipped off the horse and tried to land on her feet, but they were well tied and she fell over, unable to break her fall with her wrists tied behind her. Moriko winced.

  Goro laughed and Moriko’s hand went to her sword. Not today. She wouldn’t melt into the background and become another monk who let this happen. She could at least stand up for the girl.

  Moriko scanned the monastery. Business was proceeding as usual, and no one was paying any particular attention to Goro and his cruelty. Moriko closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She went deep inside herself, hiding her power, and crept towards him. Worry slipped away as her training with Orochi took over. She wasn’t going to be the one to attack. She wasn’t sure what her status was in the monastery, but killing Goro would bring things to their inevitable conclusion more quickly than she was prepared for.

  Her only goal was to save the girl and remove her from Goro’s wrath.

  Moriko reached Goro without him sensing her. She enjoyed the power over him as she cleared her throat. She smiled as Goro jumped. He spun around, realization dawning on him. He was about to reach for his blade, but saw she wasn’t there to fight, her hand resting on the hilt of her swo
rd. Prepared, but not threatening.

  “Untie the girl, Goro.”

  Goro didn’t respond. Moriko thought she could hear his brain running circles around the problem. He had rank on Moriko, but Moriko’s tone of voice indicated she didn’t care. It had been an order, not a request. If he was going to defy her, he was going to have to fight her, and he was injured. She saw his fear. He knew she was stronger.

  He took the coward’s path.

  “The girl is dangerous! She cut me. If I untie her now she could be a danger both to others and herself.”

  “Untie the girl, Goro.”

  “She needs to have an audience with the Abbot. You know the procedure. We can’t let her near him if she poses a risk to people.”

  Moriko didn’t respond, her posture strong.

  Goro looked frantically about for assistance from some corner, but the monks who had been so conveniently ignoring his cruelty were ignoring his current plight as well. He bent to her will. Orochi had taught her true power. Power was the ability to bend others through persuasiveness, charm, or threats. She felt like she had a preference for threats.

  Goro untied the girl, and true to form, she attempted to strike him again the moment she was free. It was subtle, but Moriko caught it, and grabbed the girl’s arm.

  “He’s not worth it. Trust me.”

  The girl stared with hatred deep into Moriko’s eyes. She returned the gaze, hoping the calm pool of her soul would quiet this girl down. She had no malice, no hatred, and even some sympathy for this girl. The girl picked up on it. She relaxed, but Moriko could sense it was skin-deep. Her hatred still burned. Already, Moriko thought, she is working at hiding her true intent. Good.

  When Moriko was confident the girl wouldn’t strike again she let go of the girl’s arm. Goro, clueless as to what had just transpired, started to whimper something about procedure, but was cut off mid-sentence by Moriko’s glare. She knew what had to be done and wasn’t willing to push the issue more than she already had. She had accomplished enough for today.

  She led the girl to the Abbot’s quarters to present her to him. Moriko could feel the Abbot starting to show off his strength, waves of energy emanating throughout the monastery. Moriko glanced at the girl. She couldn’t tell if the girl noticed the Abbot’s energy or not. Whatever the case, the girl was doing her best to hold herself together, and was doing an admirable job of it.

  “What’s your name?”

  The girl was silent.

  “My name is Moriko. I want to get out of here too, but it’s very hard, and I’ll need your help. The people who are here, and the person you are about to meet, are very strong.”

  It was a white lie. The girl couldn’t help Moriko escape the monastery, but if it helped her open up, to trust at least one person, it was worth it. The girl weighed the new information, debating whether or not she wanted to trust Moriko. She was young and desperate for an ally. She trusted Moriko despite her wariness.

  “My name is Aina.”

  “That’s a beautiful name, Aina. I have to take you to the person who runs this monastery now. If I don’t, I’m going to get into a lot of trouble. He’s not a good person, but he’s not going to hurt you, ok? I’ll be with you the entire time. It will only take a little while, and then you’ll be able to go find a spot to rest for the rest of the day.”

  Aina nodded. Once she made the decision to trust Moriko, it was clear she would do anything Moriko said without complaint. Moriko went back on her own assessment. Maybe there would be a way to use someone who trusted her. She went through possibilities in her mind, but the only solutions she came up with involved betrayal of that trust, which she wouldn’t allow.

  Her mind embroiled in thought, Moriko went through the procedure of introducing and presenting Aina to the Abbot. The Abbot, although happy to show off his power to a new student who could sense what he was doing, was otherwise distracted, and went through the formal motions quickly and without fanfare. Moriko had expected a small interview, similar to the one she had gone through when she had been presented, but there was none of that today. Aina was introduced, the Abbot welcomed her, and then she was let go.

  Moriko brought Aina to the quarters of the monastery and introduced her to a small room where the youngest of the monks lived. Her introduction to the rest of the trainees made her think that perhaps having Aina’s trust wasn’t such a good thing for Aina. The moment Moriko walked into the room everything became quiet, and the other students seemed to shy away from Aina.

  Moriko took the hint and wished Aina well and left as soon as possible. Hopefully the other girls would look after her despite Moriko’s introductions. The girl seemed intelligent, so perhaps she would be able to make her own way. It took time, it always did.

  Moriko was lost in thought as she wandered back to her own quarters. She wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Even Orochi’s training made her feel a little sick to her stomach, now that she looked at it through the lens of her childhood dreams. She wondered how she had become part of the system she had feared and hated so much as a child. Was she any better, or any different than the Abbot, or even Goro?

  She had seen children taken and had done nothing about it. She hadn’t even cared. She had been too wrapped up in her own problems and her own pain. She had become that which she sought to destroy. She fingered the scar on her abdomen. She couldn’t lose her hatred of the monastery even if she knew nothing else.

  Never again, she vowed. She had to think, to find her purpose. Orochi and the monastery had given her the training to harness an incredible power. Now she had to figure out how to use it. While she didn’t know her final decision, she was certain she would make Goro and the Abbot pay for their sins.

  Late that night as the candles burned low, two men huddled together in the Abbot’s quarters. Goro was ecstatic. The incident with Moriko brought him closer to the Abbot than ever. Goro had long ago realized he did not have any special powers or abilities and consoled himself with the fact that no one else in his cohort did either. He believed the way to rise above was to befriend and be close to the Abbot.

  For so many cycles he had tried, patiently listening to every command, every teaching, seizing every small opportunity to prove his worth to the Abbot, but the Abbot had never seemed to recognize him, never seen him as anything more than a loyal servant. But Goro maintained his vigilance and his dedication.

  It all changed the day Moriko had bested him. It was strange that such an obvious, incredible failure would have been the gateway to the fulfillment of Goro’s dreams, but it was. Ever since then Goro was the person the Abbot confided in. Their conferences grew in frequency and duration, culminating in regular nightly sessions when Orochi arrived.

  Tonight was no different. They thought Moriko was sleeping, but no longer trusted their own senses, even the Abbot, whose command of the sense made him unique among monks. So they huddled together, whispering about the day’s events, peeking around to ensure they were alone.

  “Master, did you sense what happened today? Moriko, she . . .”

  The Abbot interrupted. “Yes, Goro, I sensed the entire thing.” He didn’t feel the need to add he had lost his sense of Moriko when she went to sneak behind Goro. “What she did was unacceptable.”

  “What will we do, Master?”

  The Abbot flinched at the use of the word “we,” but kept himself calm. “I cannot allow this behavior to continue, but she is the favored student of Orochi, who has the ear of Akira. I cannot slay her for any minor transgression as much as I might want to.”

  Goro hung on to every word. Perhaps he would have some role to play, something that would cement his worth in the Abbot’s eyes.

  As he hoped, the Abbot looked at him, realization dawning as a plan began to form in his mind.

  “Brother Goro, what we need is for her to commit a transgression, an act so heinous that we have no choice but to kill her.” He looked meaningfully at Goro. “I think that you will have an important role t
o play in this, Goro.”

  “In the meantime, this will take me a while to put into place. Until then, Goro, I’d like you to individually take over the training of Aina. I believe she has incredible promise, and you are the only one I trust in this matter. Train her using whatever methods you deem appropriate.”

  Warmth flooded through Goro. After all of these cycles, being treated just the same as everyone else, not being unique or special, here was a task he could do. Someday, when the Abbot was ready, he would help get rid of Moriko as well. He left the Abbot’s company feeling excited and thrilled.

  As he left, the Abbot laughed softly to himself. With his hand free to train how he pleased, Goro would attract Moriko’s attention. She would kill him quickly and then the Abbot would be left with the perfect excuse for killing her himself. Then he would be rid of Goro and Moriko. Two heads would roll with one strike.

  19

  Ryuu, Takako, and Shigeru did not stay much longer at the farmhouse. After Shigeru finished his story they prepared to leave the next day. They no longer bothered to travel at night. All time was valuable to them now. The one who was hunting them could track them day or night.

  Shigeru rested and healed for one last night while Ryuu kept watch. Through the entire night all he did was stretch out his sense to detect anything that felt like Orochi. It was a new experience. For the first time in many cycles he felt powerless, naked without the protection his sense afforded him.

  That someone could track him, using the same gifts he possessed, and he couldn’t do the same, was humbling. He knew what fear was. Enough knowledge to realize what he was up against and how dangerous his opponent was, but not enough knowledge to do anything about it. Ryuu was unable to sleep the entire night.