by Ryan Kirk
He nodded a greeting and the four of them sat around a table covered in smaller versions of Akira’s maps. They all knew the decision that sat before them. There wasn’t any time to waste. “Thoughts?”
There was silence around the table, an unusual occurrence for the four of them.
Toro spoke up, echoing the thoughts of each of the generals. “There is no way of knowing the best course of action. We’ve never encountered this, and we don’t have any worthwhile information from scouts to base a decision on.”
Akira glanced at the other two, seeing nods of agreement from both of them. “Suggestions, then?”
Mashiro spoke up first. “We should march deeper into Azaria with a significant force. This is an opportunity too good to pass up.”
Toro disagreed. “It’s too big a risk. It presents an opportunity, true, but at what cost? I share Akira’s unease about the absence of Azarians. It could be a precursor to greater action, perhaps a trap of some sort to get us to leave our position here.”
Mashiro scoffed. “What sort of trap could it be? Our scouts have scoured the lands for leagues. There aren’t any Azarians in any direction.”
Toro eyed the younger general coolly. “There are many types of traps. It wouldn’t be a very good one if we knew what it was. I believe caution is warranted.”
Akira turned his gaze to Makoto. The giant was usually the last to speak, but his advice was always well thought out. There was silence as they waited for him to speak. “I agree with Toro.” He held up his hand to stop Mashiro’s outburst. “Our records of the Azarians go back over sixty cycles, and I have studied them extensively. Nothing like this has ever happened. Something beyond our knowledge is building. Here we are safe and defensible. If we were to spread our forces out we would incur unnecessary risk for little gain.”
Akira nodded. The majority of the generals agreed with him. Mashiro would chafe, but he would follow orders.
“Remember, the Azarians are not my main concern. If we can build the defenses here so they are impregnable, that is what we will spend the season doing. Speed is of the highest priority. Work your men as if their lives depend on it, for they may. I want you all to figure out a rotation. One army focuses on construction while the others train and simulate maneuvers in the foothills. In a cycle or two we will make our move and our men need to be the best they can be. Understood?”
A chorus of agreement answered his question.
“Good. I’ll be making arrangements to leave . . .”
Akira was interrupted by a commotion coming from the field. It was only moments before a messenger walked into the tent.
“Excuse me, my lord. A scout has returned. He brings news.”
“Why the commotion?”
The messenger hesitated. “He made a rather dramatic entrance, my lord.”
Akira gestured impatiently. “Then bring him here, quickly.”
The messenger left the tent, replaced moments later by the scout.
One glance was all Akira needed to see why the scout had caused such a commotion. He was covered in cuts and blood, and had at least two arrows sticking out of his back. Neither looked fatal, but Akira was impressed he could still stand on his feet. He was moved by the scout’s strength.
The scout didn’t wait for permission to speak. He was shaky and his voice was soft, trembling like a leaf in a breeze. Akira noticed the fear in his voice right away.
“My lord, they were destroyed. They are all dead.”
Akira raised his hand. “Slow down. Start from the beginning.”
The scout wobbled on his feet. Toro grabbed a flagon of wine and almost threw it down the soldier’s throat. The man gulped it down without shame, the tremors that racked his body subsiding. The scout stood up a little straighter, then slouched again against the pain of the arrows. It was a temporary relief, but it gave the man enough strength to tell his tale.
“My lord, we were sent into Azaria a quarter moon ago. My partner and I experienced much of what you’ve probably already heard. The land nearby is empty. No one. We rode through the foothills for a couple of days but saw nothing of note. I’m sorry, my lord, but we disobeyed our orders and went deeper into Azaria. We wanted to know what was happening. The two of us traveled for two days straight along the main road into Azaria when we saw smoke. We rode towards it.”
“We came upon the end of a battle. My lord, an entire Azarian clan had been wiped out. There were so many bodies we had to get off our horses. We went among the dead, hoping to find a survivor who could tell us more. But we found none. My lord, it was terrifying. I’ve seen plenty of battlefields, and there are always wounded. Always. But there weren’t any here. Every single person was dead. I don’t know if I’ll ever get the silence out of my head.”
Akira tried to process what the scout was saying. He too had walked through the aftermath of combat, and the scout was right. There were always the living scattered among the dead. They may be dying or just too injured to move, but a recent battlefield was never silent. The air was always filled with the sounds of the wounded. He shuddered, imagining what the silence must have been like.
“We thought we were being careful, but we were spotted. My lord, I don’t think there were more than four or five attackers. But they moved so fast. My partner and I ran. We both made it to our horses, but he took an arrow in the back and fell. These attackers, they weren’t human. They moved so fast and were so strong. They chased us, but their horses were tired. We thought we were out of range when my partner was killed. It was an impossible shot. Impossible. I took two myself, but then they were gone and I didn’t see them again.”
The scout broke down in tears and Akira dismissed him. His story was hard to believe.
The scout was replaced by the captain of the scouts.
“Is the boy trustworthy?”
“He’s one of our best, my lord. I’ve never seen him rattled before, and he’s a veteran. He’s seen three cycles in the scouts.”
Akira nodded. “See to it he’s cared for.”
Perhaps there was truth to the boy’s story. Akira didn’t want to believe it though. If four or five warriors could slaughter entire Azarian clans, they would be a force of incredible power. Azarians were tremendous fighters and difficult to kill. If they had been wiped out so easily, Akira dreaded whatever was sitting to the south of them. A power that strong could sweep over his kingdom, and there would be nothing he could do to protect his people.
2
The sword sliced through the air, aimed at Ryuu’s neck. He leaned back, letting the wooden blade pass harmlessly in front of him. Seeing a chance, he moved forward into the opening, trying a quick cut upwards. He was fast, but his opponent hadn’t stopped moving. She rotated and struck downward, forcing him back again.
Two more passes and he didn’t make contact, but Ryuu was getting closer. Every pass brought him a hair closer than the last. It wouldn’t be long now. She knew it too.
He was overconfident and lost his focus, just for a moment. It was less than a heartbeat, but she recognized it. She saw every mistake he made, two cycles of experience paying off. His opponent redoubled her attack, strikes blurring together in succession. Ryuu blocked or dodged each of them, but he lost his balance on a tree root, stumbling backwards as his opponent seized the opportunity. She dashed forward, the eager glint of victory in her eyes.
Ryuu resigned himself to the pain of the strike. There was no way he could block her in time. But then Ryuu’s mind snapped. He couldn’t describe the sensation any other way. One moment he was in normal reality. The next, the world was moving in slow motion, as if everyone was moving through water instead of air. Not only did he know how his opponent would strike, he knew, with the trained instinct of a warrior, how he would finish her. Ryuu let himself fall, sweeping aside his opponent’s sword as he tucked into a roll. He came back to his feet and in three moves had his sword pressed against his opponent’s neck.
She blew her dark hair out of her
face in annoyance. “You promised you weren’t going to do that.”
Ryuu lowered his sword, smiling. “Sorry, I tried, but when you had me beat at the end, it just happened. I still can’t control it.”
She looked at him, curious. “Can you do it now?”
Ryuu closed his eyes and focused. Sometimes it was easier immediately after. He could remember how it felt, and he had some idea of how it happened. Sometimes he could snap intentionally. But not today. He shook his head as he opened his eyes.
Moriko looked disappointed. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out one day.”
They walked hand in hand back to their hut, the same one Ryuu had grown up in with Shigeru. They walked in companionable silence, but Ryuu’s head was churning, much as it often did. For two cycles they had known peace. It was more than he had expected after they had killed Orochi and Nori. Akira had kept his word.
Ryuu glanced at Moriko. Perhaps more than anything else, it was she who surprised him. After the death of Takako, Moriko had come back to Shigeru’s hut with him, mostly because she had nowhere else to go. There was no question of returning to the monasteries, and her family would never welcome her.
They had lived together for moons, an uncomfortable truce between them. Ryuu was still grieving, working through the deaths of Takako and Shigeru. Moriko trained. She had seen how strong Ryuu and Orochi were and knew there was more for her to learn. Most days Ryuu would work in the garden, his sword collecting dust in the hut, while she practiced every day. She had nothing left but her strength, and with training it grew every day.
After killing Orochi, Ryuu had been broken. As a child, he had dreamed of becoming a nightblade, but when his dream was realized, he learned it was a nightmare. He had seen too much blood, too much meaningless death. The one time he had taken up his blade for a cause, to save a girl who couldn’t save herself, he had lost both the girl and the man he called father. The garden brought him a measure of hope, a simple joy in nurturing life rather than taking it.
It was Moriko who convinced him to pick up his blade again. She wanted to learn from him, but more importantly, she convinced him that he was shutting part of himself away. Almost his entire childhood had been dedicated to becoming a nightblade. When he gave it up there was a hole in his life that gardening couldn’t fill. Patiently, she tried for three moons to convince him to train with her, and eventually he gave in.
She had been right, of course. Picking up his blade had felt natural. Even after all that had happened, it felt right, like a part of him was waking up from a long sleep. Ryuu had been torn apart by Shigeru and Takako’s deaths, and it was only when he picked up the sword again that he feel the scars began to heal.
Returning to his childhood home had been both a blessing and a curse. When he had first laid eyes on the small hut he had been overjoyed. He loved being back in a place so comfortable and so safe.
But there was a hole in the hut that wasn’t physical, and it seemed to grow larger every day. Shigeru was gone and everything in the hut was a reminder of that. They cooked using Shigeru’s old utensils. They made their living by selling the medicines he had made.
Training again started the process of healing, and it brought the two of them closer together. Ryuu had always found Moriko attractive, but the only time he had tried to express his feelings, he’d been knocked on his ass. The memory was strong, and he made no advances, even though he felt himself drawn closer and closer to her through their training.
What they shared was deep. They were both warriors, but even more, they were both nightblades. Their sense gave them a window to the world no one else in the Three Kingdoms could understand. The sun and the moon rose and fell, and as they shared more of themselves, their relationship deepened.
This time it was Moriko who pinned Ryuu to a tree and kissed him. He was stunned. While he could see a strike coming far in advance, he understood nothing about women. But Moriko opened the door, and he didn’t turn down her invitation.
Their relationship grew in fits and starts, a seed struggling to blossom in a new environment. The seasons changed and it continued to grow, continued to get stronger. And now he couldn’t imagine a life without her. He never would have guessed he would find someone to share his life with, but he had.
Ryuu squeezed Moriko’s hand a little tighter at the thought. The corner of her mouth turned up as she glanced up at him. It was enough. She was quiet by nature, and he had gotten used to her manners. She was strong and silent and gave him the courage to face the battles he must.
Later that night Ryuu lay in bed listening to Moriko softly snoring next to him. He felt emptied and calm as he often did after they came together. He looked at her slim face, covered in part by her raven hair. He brushed it lightly out of her face. She had been growing it long. He decided she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. And she was strong too, which magnified her beauty. At her current strength she wouldn’t have any trouble fighting someone of Orochi’s caliber, the strongest warrior they’d ever encountered. If not for Ryuu’s ability to snap, she’d defeat him as often as he beat her.
Thinking of Orochi opened the doors to memories he’d rather not dwell on. He didn’t trust the peace they had here. Every night he thought he needed to do something, take some action, but there was none to take. He considered going to the island Orochi had given him directions to, the birthplace of both Orochi and Shigeru. There was a part of him that found the idea appealing, a part that wanted to learn more about the place his adopted father had come from. But the desire wasn’t there, wasn’t strong enough to motivate him to make the journey. He was happy here.
As he lay there, lost in thought, a shadow crossed his awareness that made him bolt upright and out of bed. Ryuu lived with the sense every day. Most of the time it was a passive ability, bringing in information about his surroundings. Unlike the early days of his training, he didn’t have to think about it anymore. It was always there in the back of his mind.
Something was close. Ryuu had his hand on his sword in less than a moment. His training kicked in and he stilled himself, allowing his sense to expand outward. At first, the world outside their hut seemed normal, but then it was there again. It was unlike anything or anyone he had sensed before. At times it seemed like a man, but the energy was primal, uncontrolled.
Ryuu focused. Whatever it was, it was still far from the hut. It was at least fifty paces away, but even that was closer than any man had gotten in the past two cycles. Ryuu rolled off the sleeping pad, coming silently to his feet. As he left the bed Moriko’s eyes came open, instantly aware. She started, but Ryuu motioned her to silence. She grabbed her own sword. Ryuu motioned her to stay still. He took a last, longing glance. In the light of the stars her bare skin contrasted against the glint of her blade. She was beautiful.
He didn’t bother with clothes. When he felt the shadow was out of the line of sight of the door, he darted out, his bare feet making no sound in the damp grass. He reached the edge of the clearing in a few heartbeats. There was a large tree about ten paces into the woods whose shadow he melted into. He caught his breath and threw out his sense like a net, hoping to catch his mysterious shadow once again.
It was faint, but Ryuu could still feel it. The shadow was still, as if something had caught its attention. As Ryuu calmed his mind, he sensed something he had never expected to find in the Three Kingdoms again. He could feel the light pressure of Moriko in the hut, her own sense expanding outward, tentative and cautious. But the sense was extending from the shadow as well. So it was another nightblade. There were more in the kingdoms than just the two of them then.
The shadow moved again, continuing to circle the hut. It was slow, but it was heading towards him. Ryuu debated his best course of action. He snuck further into the woods, silent as death. Moriko had taught him some of her skill, and while he wasn’t nearly as proficient as she was, he would be hard to sense among the life of the woods. He used as mu
ch of his focus as possible to mask his own intentions from the sense. After he had gone about fifteen more paces into the woods he crouched in another shadow and turned around.
The waiting was the hardest part. Ryuu could sense the shadow moving, but it was slow, deliberate. It was high too, in the trees. There was a path through the upper boughs surrounding the hut. He and Moriko trained on it often. The shadow was following the same path. Soon it would be right over the place Ryuu had first hidden.
In the dark of night, Ryuu couldn’t make out anything using his sight. The moon was almost new and its faint light couldn’t penetrate the trees. Without his sense he would have been blind. It felt like an eternity, but the shadow stopped above the place where Ryuu had first left the clearing and found cover. Ryuu squinted, trying to make out something in the trees that would tell him who was out there. His attempts were in vain. He couldn’t make out anything or anyone. The shadows were too deep.
Then there was a blur of movement, the shadow dropping right where Ryuu had been hidden. Ryuu caught the glint of a blade reflected in the faint starlight. The shadow melted into the dark surrounding the trees and Ryuu lost sight of it. It was a man, but Ryuu had never encountered anyone like this before. He felt different, darker and more dangerous than any man Ryuu had met.
Ryuu held his breath, trying to remain as silent as he could. He was hidden in the shadows of one of the giant trees, but that was a slim comfort. He didn’t even have the darkness of his robes to protect him, naked as he was.