by Ryan Kirk
A monk near the back of the milling assembly spoke up. “But you are a nightblade. We must stop you.”
Ryuu shook his head. “I am a nightblade. And you are dayblades. Know, brothers and sisters, we all walk the same path. You are welcome to visit me at any time.”
Ryuu took a moment to let his statement and claim sink in. It felt right to let the world know he was a nightblade. For so long he had hidden. His had been a life of shadows and deception. Honesty was refreshing, like letting sunlight into a part of his soul he hadn't dusted in a long time.
Ryuu didn't wait for the monks to accept his argument. He started their horses forward, and the crowd parted. Once he sensed a monk almost draw his blade, but fear overtook him at the last moment and he faltered.
As they made it out the gates of the monastery, Ryuu released a deep breath he didn't even realize he had been holding. He looked over at Moriko, who was struggling to stay upright in her saddle. Ryuu shook his head. This was going to be a long journey.
They rode the horses as far as they could, but Ryuu made them get off a fair distance from the edge of the forest. He didn't want to leave tracks.
Ryuu tried a couple of times to get Moriko to open up, but she was deep within herself dealing with the pain and exhaustion. Ryuu also noticed that as Moriko grew more and more exhausted he was able to sense her. Even her presence was beautiful. She exuded the sense in the same manner he did, tendrils of awareness flitting to and fro all around her. It was a beautiful, intricate pattern, invisible to all but him in this world.
When she became too tired to walk on her own he supported her. When she couldn't even stand on her two feet, he carried her. Ryuu had predicted correctly, the journey was long. It was only because of their time on the horses that they made it back to Ryuu and Takako's campsite by the rendezvous time.
When they reached the camp, Takako was unhappy about the situation. Ryuu didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say much. He said he had rescued the girl. He settled the senseless nightblade into their tree. Then he sat in his customary spot, asleep the moment he was still.
23
The forest was a terrifying place without the company of another. Takako had never been in the woods alone. Ryuu had been right. These woods were alive. One didn’t recognize it at first, but the variety of sounds was astounding. After Ryuu left she found a dead branch on the ground light enough so she could pick it up and swing it with ease, heavy enough she could convince herself it was a weapon.
During the day she managed to keep herself busy, ranging as far from their tree as she felt comfortable to find food. Ryuu had left her with an ample supply of meat, but she enjoyed the variety of berries to break up the monotony of dried meat.
The nights were difficult. With nothing to do but hide in the tree it was too easy to jump at every sound, to imagine that every twig that snapped was an assassin. She wished she lived in a world where that was as ridiculous as it sounded. The sounds of the forest kept her awake each night.
Takako could feel her shoulders relax when she saw him return. But now that she was safe her anger blossomed. He had taken her from all she cared for and left her in the forest alone. He owed her better treatment.
The girl didn’t make her feel better. At first Takako had thought it was a body. There was so much blood. But the girl was alive and Ryuu wasn’t willing to say much about her. He just laid her down and went to sleep himself, not even asking how she was. Men.
Takako looked over the new arrival scornfully. She reminded Takako of Ryuu. She was of average size but there wasn’t any fat on her. She was strong. She had shoulder length dark hair, and an incredible set of cuts and bruises over her entire body. Takako was surprised she was still alive. It was no wonder Ryuu had been covered in blood.
Ryuu didn’t sleep long. He seemed to have the ability to wake up at will. After he was up he made a fire and asked for Takako's help in taking off the woman's clothes. Takako was close to making a remark about Ryuu being a pig, but saw the seriousness in his eyes. It was the same look she had seen after their last encounter with Orochi. Takako let the remark die on her tongue and helped him.
They got to work, peeling the clothes off the girl with as much gentleness as they could manage. Blood had caked the clothes to her body in several places, and Takako grimaced every time she tore off congealed blood with the clothes. They washed the wounds and tried their best to dress them, although they didn't have enough bandages to dress all the cuts. They had to choose those which looked most dangerous.
The work was exhausting but gave Takako a sense of satisfaction. Healing was a worthwhile endeavor, and she felt optimistic about her work. If they could prevent infection the girl should recover without too many problems. As they worked Takako noticed many of the new scars were laid over old scars. Whoever the girl was, she had been through some severe beatings.
Ryuu was strangely silent the next few days. The woman, who Takako learned was named Moriko, developed a fever after the first night. She and Ryuu took turns caring for their patient while the other focused on survival. Ryuu would hunt and skin, and Takako would cook, dry the meat and gather food from the forest. Though all of their time was spent in relative proximity to each other, Ryuu never gave more than vague, one-word responses to Takako's inquiries.
His silence angered Takako. After all they had been through she deserved honest answers from him. Something had happened on his trip, more than him bringing back an injured woman. She was tired of feeling like she didn’t have the slightest sense of the world around her.
Takako did her best to put the questions aside until Moriko awoke. Then she would have answers. Until then she kept a respectful distance, not trying to push herself into Ryuu's thoughts. It angered her that he wasn’t as concerned about her well-being as he was Moriko's. The days without him had been difficult, and his return hadn't made anything easier.
Moriko awoke after three days and slowly but steadily regained her health. All of Takako’s hopes that Moriko would clear up the situation were dashed quickly. Ryuu had brought home the only person quieter than he was. Takako had thought they would be on the move as soon as Moriko was up and about. No one else seemed to share her opinion. They both seemed content to rest where they were.
All of this built up Takako’s frustration. She didn’t want to live in the woods and she didn’t like being stuck in the limbo she was in. She wanted to know what they were going to do. Her mood wasn’t helped as Moriko’s story came out in bits and pieces.
When it did, Takako understood why Ryuu hadn't mentioned anything to her. Moriko was a nightblade known by Lord Akira, trained by Orochi. And Ryuu had killed another person of importance in the Kingdom. It was as though he was trying to bring the full might of the military down on their heads. And not just the military, but the entire monastic system as well, which spanned all Three Kingdoms.
But Ryuu didn’t rise to her anger and continued to be nonchalant about their potential danger. His attention was on Moriko and her healing. She was furious at being thrust into a fight that wasn't her own, angry at becoming a hunted criminal when she had done nothing wrong. She was angry because she was afraid, and she wanted Ryuu to share her fear and anger.
As Moriko got healthier she and Ryuu spent more and more time together, fueling Takako’s rage. Moriko had been watching Ryuu’s training and had asked to join in. Ryuu accepted as if he had forgotten Moriko was Orochi’s student.
All day long Takako listened to the sound of wood smashing into wood. Neither of them trained with swords, preferring to give it their all with wooden weapons, which Takako wanted to remind them were still weapons. Both of them would come back bruised, sweaty, and happy.
Conversation at meals focused almost exclusively on technique and their shared history as nightblades. To their credit, Takako supposed, they did attempt to include her, but even though she had known Ryuu longer and had been through so much with him, the bond he and Moriko shared was stronger.
&n
bsp; Her jealousy surprised her. She had spent the past few moons trying to stay apart from him. Now that the separation was actually happening she found she missed his presence. The old adage of not knowing what you have until you lose it was proving to be true. The two of them also shared something that Takako couldn’t touch. They saw the world in the same way with their sense. Ryuu had tried to describe it to her, but Moriko understood it. Takako was losing her last connection to the world.
It was a cold morning when Ryuu gathered them all around a roaring fire. He had a lot of wood sitting nearby and Takako rightly assumed it was time to make a decision.
“We need to decide how to move forward.” Takako laughed softly to herself. That was one thing she appreciated about Ryuu. He never went about things in a roundabout manner. He struck straight to the heart of the matter.
Moriko looked up from the fire. “You assume I’m with you. What if I want to leave?”
Takako flared her nostrils and stared daggers at Moriko. Ryuu had risked everything in his rescue of her. She owed him nothing less than her life. How dare she question they stay together? Takako caught herself. What had happened to her jealousy? Maybe it would be better if she and Ryuu were alone.
Ryuu spoke slowly, choosing his words with care. Takako could see him struggling with the mantle of leadership of this small group. “You will be hunted for what happened at Perseverance, just as we are pursued for my actions. Although your mobility will be hampered by having company, I believe we are all safer if we stay together. However, your path is yours to choose. I make no claim on your life.”
Takako was surprised. She was familiar with the traditions of the warrior class. Often a soldier who was saved by another considered his life in debt to the other. Ryuu was relinquishing his most powerful hold on Moriko right away.
Moriko was equally surprised. “Why release your claim? You have every right.”
“I do. But I believe everyone makes their own choice. If you stay with us, I want it to be because you choose to do so. If you don’t want to remain, I would rather you leave. Shigeru was fond of comparing life to combat. Either commit fully or die half-heartedly.”
Moriko nodded, offering no more.
Ryuu pressed the point. “Your path is your own. Do you choose to stay with us?”
Moriko did not answer right away and Takako found the silence unbearable. It felt like a long time passed before Moriko spoke. “I suppose I’m with you. Let’s see where this goes.”
Ryuu nodded. It was good enough for him.
“I’ve been thinking about it for a few days now and I see two options. The first is that we run. We find a hiding spot where no one will ever find us. Maybe it’s outside of the Three Kingdoms, but we keep running until no one is chasing us anymore.”
Takako liked that idea. She was convinced bloodshed only led to more bloodshed. For them to try to do anything besides run would only continue the larger cycle of violence they had already experienced.
“Our second option is to take the offensive. To take out Orochi before he can kill us.”
Moriko was staring at Ryuu, and Takako’s heart dropped when she sensed the determination in Ryuu’s voice. Whatever her choice was, it was clear he had an idea of what he wanted to do.
Moriko spoke up. “Orochi has the backing of Lord Akira. If you decide to go after him you may end up against an entire kingdom. Orochi is possibly Akira’s most valuable asset. He’s more than an incredible warrior, he is capable of hunting down other nightblades. He alone could guarantee the continuance of Akira’s reign.”
Ryuu returned Moriko’s piercing gaze. “The thought had occurred to me.”
Moriko looked uncertain. “I have mixed feelings about Orochi, but I do want to bring down the monasteries.”
Takako stared at both of them, mouth agape. One of them wanted to attack an entire kingdom head on, and the other wanted to take on a system which spanned all Three Kingdoms. Neither of them would ever be criticized for a lack of ambition, but someone had to talk some sense into them.
“Do you two even realize what you are talking about? Ryuu, you want to take on a kingdom, and Moriko wants to take down a system that all three kingdoms depend on. Don’t you realize you’ll only sow more chaos and bring more pain and destruction down, not just on you, but on everyone who lives in the Three Kingdoms?”
They both looked at her, startled by the emotion of her outburst.
“Can’t you see how violence only begets more violence? Ryuu killed a young man to rescue me and Orochi came and killed Shigeru. Now Ryuu wants revenge. Moriko, the Abbot struck out at you and you killed Goro. The Abbot would have killed you, except Ryuu killed the Abbot. Violence brings about more violence. Almost everyone I have ever known is dead because no one could step back and see the pain their actions caused!”
Takako finished, leaving a surprised silence behind her. It was clear neither of them had thought about their actions in that light.
After what felt like a whole cycle, Ryuu spoke. “Shigeru often lectured me about the dangers of violence. He believed there were times when violence was necessary, but it should be avoided if possible. He never framed it the way you did, Takako.” He paused, collecting his thoughts, testing them before he spoke again. “I do believe violence is a necessary part of the world. We will never exist without war or conflict and it becomes the duty of those who are strong to minimize it as much as possible.”
Takako looked over at Moriko, who was also reflective. “When I was a little girl, I spent all of my time in woods much like the one we are in now. What I keep thinking about is the concept of harmony. I think Ryuu is right when he says there will always be conflict in the world. However, I think it is everyone’s duty to live in harmony as much as possible. The wolf may kill the deer, but he doesn’t hunt more than he would need to eat and stay alive. In the same way, violence may be necessary for survival, but we should never seek to do more than is necessary.”
Takako’s spirits lifted. Perhaps these two warriors could be persuaded to see the wisdom of her cause.
Ryuu spoke up. “I don’t think we are safe as long as Orochi is alive. He was able to hunt us down even though we left no traces. His ability is superb, and he does not strike me as the sort of man who will give up now. Now that Moriko is with us he will redouble his efforts.”
Moriko agreed. “He is not an evil man. Intimidating and intense, perhaps, but he does not cause pain for the sake of pain. He is a man who needs purpose. Now that Shigeru is dead, his purpose will come from Akira, and he will never stop as long as the purpose is not fulfilled. He is driven.”
Ryuu looked closely, again, at Moriko. “If it came to it, could you fight him? Could you kill him?”
Moriko averted her gaze. “I do not know. That is a question I will need to answer for myself. I do not love him, but he is also the man responsible for me being alive and as strong as I am. There is a debt which must be acknowledged.”
Takako wanted to press the issue, but Ryuu shot her a warning glance. It was good enough for now. Takako didn’t fully trust Moriko yet, but Ryuu did. She would have to be on her guard to make sure he wasn’t taken by surprise too.
For a number of long, drawn out moments, there was silence around the campfire, each occupied with their own thoughts. It was Ryuu who broke the silence.
“I don’t like it, but I think we need to hunt down Orochi. Only once we have settled with him will there be any chance of safety.”
A thousand objections rose in Takako’s throat, but none of them made it out. He was probably right, but that didn’t make her feel any better. She felt like an insignificant pawn in a grand tragedy. She could almost see the catastrophe coming, but with no evidence to back it up, she felt like she had no choice but to go along. Even if it meant death for all of them.
24
High above the plains and the forests of the Southern Kingdom, Akira sat in his castle as the snows fell. His castle wasn’t grand or showy. It was a fortres
s on a hill with a commanding view of the surrounding land. Some of his advisers claimed it was the highest hill in the Southern Kingdom not connected to the mountains, but Akira saw no way of proving that. His castle was not there to make a statement, it was there to keep his family safe.
It was the height of winter and the bone-cutting wind drove snow against the walls, which shook as if battered by the rams of an opposing enemy. Visibility was nonexistent, and messengers and traders struggled to reach the safety of the castle walls. Akira glanced down at the letter in front of him, unwilling to accept its contents, wishing but not believing them false.
Orochi had been wounded during his fight. He had managed to make it back to camp and his guards had brought him to a town where there was a proper healer. Orochi had taken a fever, and the doctor wasn’t sure if he would make it. However, the message was dated a full moon ago, and by now whatever had happened, had happened. Akira couldn’t imagine Orochi succumbing to something as simple as a fever. He couldn’t see Orochi dying at all.
Akira meandered around the rooms at the center of his castle which served as his war rooms. He’d given orders to be left alone. Today he had received reports that General Nori was livid upon his return from campaign in the fall. He had barely held his units together during the campaign, his thoughts dedicated to revenge. Advisers stationed with Nori’s army had written Akira with warnings that the man was unraveling, falling into drink as the winter blocked his army in. Akira was thankful for the snow. If winter hadn’t come with the strength it did Nori might have moved his entire army to find the boy who killed his son.