by Ryan Kirk
As a young boy, he had tried to imagine what it would be like to see water as far as the eye could see. There were stories that told of sailors who, when they reached the middle of the ocean, couldn’t see any land at all. Ryuu had wondered what that must be like. To not see any land. Water was so impermanent. It didn’t keep any shape. Ryuu knew about navigating by the stars and signs in the sky, but they always pointed to landmarks on the ground. To navigate with nothing but the uncaring sky to keep you company seemed a terrifying prospect.
But as Ryuu reached the shore, he felt like he could understand the desires of sailors. They were wanderers, trusting only in their own abilities to keep them alive. Ryuu felt in a way that he was like them. He had Shigeru’s cabin, which he called home, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to spend his entire life there. His abilities prevented him from settling the way others could. He and Moriko had tried, but their enemies had found them. Ryuu viewed it more as an inevitability than an exception. And so here he was, wandering the land as the sailors wandered the sea. They had the stars to guide him, and he had his sense, intuition, and Shigeru’s wisdom, cut short as it was. Their enemies were the elements and the sea itself. Ryuu’s enemy, near as he could tell, was everyone.
As his mind wandered, his body reached the shoreline, and Ryuu stood out looking at the sea and the sky and the line between the two that was barely distinguishable. He had wanted to experience the ocean for so long growing up, and now here he was. At that moment he missed Moriko acutely. She wouldn’t have said anything, but he knew she would be just as awestruck as he was. It was hard for him to accept, but she loved him, and she was all he needed. At that moment he thought it had been a mistake to send her south. The Southern Kingdom could take care of itself. He wanted her by his side.
The waves had a hypnotic effect on him. He stared, watching as wave after wave crashed against the sand of the shore. Ryuu was surprised, but he could sense there was a power in the sea, a life just as the land itself had life. He was awed by the scale of it.
As Ryuu watched the waves crash, he could feel his body relaxing, the tension of many days of riding melting off his body. He opened his sense and he could feel the fish off the shore, the small animals that crept along the shoreline. He could feel the presence of the city at his back, but on this cool day he was alone on the beach. The sounds of the surf rolled against his eardrums, and he could feel all the patterns of life. It was almost like being in the deep old woods, so alive. But this was so much more rhythmic.
He couldn’t even tell when it happened, but without warning something in his mind slipped. He had no better word to describe it. It wasn’t the sudden snap he sometimes experienced in combat. This was much gentler, like Ryuu had somehow sidestepped the current of reality. In that moment he saw Moriko standing in a sea of her own, a sea of grass that stretched as far as the eye could see. She was walking, alone on the sea, to the south. And then the moment was gone and he was again standing on the shore looking out at the ocean.
Ryuu stood as still as the rocks that bore the brunt of each wave’s demise. He glanced around him and decided that no more than a few moments had passed. He didn’t know what had happened. Ryuu shook his head, trying to clear the remaining fog from his memories. It was as though he had been there with her. He stood and watched the waves roll in, but no answers came to him. With one last, longing glance at the ocean, Ryuu turned his back to find nondescript lodging for the night.
Ryuu awoke before the sun the next morning, nervous and eager to begin the next stage of his journey. He ate a light breakfast at the small inn and went back to the stables. They were quiet, even the horses still asleep in the pre-dawn light. Ryuu drew his blade and went through his kata, the same exercises he did every morning. He lost himself in the movements, allowing all his attention to go to his blade and to his cuts. When he finished, he was glistening with sweat and his mind was calm. He was ready to take the next step in his journey.
He followed Orochi’s directions, arriving at the docks just as the sun was starting to rise over the ocean to the east. Ryuu drank in the vision, the colors unlike any he had seen before.
He enjoyed the beauty for a few moments before he began his search. The docks were large, and Orochi’s letter made note of the fact the ship Ryuu was looking for was rarely moored in the same place twice. Ryuu searched and searched, impatience creeping into his positive attitude. Orochi’s letter stated the ship was usually in town, but there were only two that led to and from the island, and it was sometimes possible that neither would be in harbor. If that was the case, Ryuu would have to wait until one arrived, and he wouldn’t be happy about losing more time.
Ryuu almost missed the object of his search. It was a small, nondescript ship that didn’t attract any attention to itself by design. What gave the ship away were the two men who seemed to be casually lying around the docks, but Ryuu sensed them. The men were wide awake and alert, a small island of calm in the hustle and bustle of the harbor in the morning. He could feel the sense emanating from both of them. They were nightblades, same as him. The shock was immediate. It was one thing to learn other nightblades existed, but to encounter them in the middle of Highgate was something else entirely.
Not having much of a plan, Ryuu decided to walk right up to them. It was direct and simple, and his impatience didn’t allow for much in the way of planning. The two nightblades sensed him in unison and rose to block his way forward. Ryuu’s sword was strapped to his back, still hidden from casual observation. He held himself back from reaching for it. He kept walking forward, one calm step at a time. Ryuu stopped when he was about eight paces away from them. The two nightblades held their ground, only a short stretch of planking beyond them. After that was an endless sea. Crates and barrels were stacked around them, hiding them from the view of most of the harbor.
Ryuu examined them, his breath calm and even. They both held themselves well. He set his shoulders. If it came to a fight, it would be a difficult one. He wasn’t sure what to say. This was where Orochi’s instructions ended.
When there were many choices, Ryuu cut straight ahead. “I seek passage to the island.”
The two nightblades shared a glance. Ryuu didn’t know what it signified. The one on Ryuu’s left spoke. “No.”
Ryuu sized up his opponents. There were others on the ship, so if he killed these two, there would still be people who probably knew the way to the island, but he would rather not start off the relationship by resorting to violence. He also felt strongly about killing other nightblades. There were few enough of them left in the world as it was. There was no need for them to fight each other.
Both of them were strong. They were built like Ryuu, not too tall or too large, but with a wiry power that would be much stronger than an opponent expected. Passerby would probably have mistaken them for down-on-their-luck seamen. Their clothes were in tatters, but Ryuu could see their sheaths almost sparkled in the early morning sun. The clothes were a disguise, but the blades would be very real.
He didn’t want to fight, but it seemed he wasn’t going to get to the island otherwise. Their initial response did not invite future conversation. His hand went to his blade. “Stop me.”
They shared another glance and the one that had spoken held up his hand. Ryuu kept his blade sheathed, his hand ready to draw, not sure of what was coming next. The nightblade went to the boat and gave an order Ryuu couldn’t understand. One of the deckhands went below and came up with an object wrapped in a long cloth. The nightblade grabbed the package and came back to his original post. Glancing around the docks, he unwrapped the bundle and handed a wooden practice sword to his partner. He grabbed one himself and tossed another to Ryuu, who caught it with ease.
So it was to be a test, then. He didn’t show it on his face, but Ryuu was glad. Facing other nightblades excited his desire for competition, but he had no desire to harm them. Orochi had been enough. He grasped the sword lightly and waited for his opponents to come to him.
He didn’t have long to wait. As soon as he set his stance they came at him, their attacks synchronized perfectly. They were quick, but Ryuu also sensed them coming. He leapt towards one nightblade, throwing off their timing and entering the fray.
The blades knocked together in rapid succession. Ryuu knew he was better than either of them individually, but he wasn’t sure if he was good enough to take them both on. They passed and passed each other, wooden blades searching for any opening to strike. As the battle went on the fighters put more and more energy into their attacks until they were striking at each other with as much strength as they could muster. Ryuu was holding a defensive position, able to block their blows, but unable to land a solid strike in return.
He was falling back and he knew it. Two nightblades were more than he could handle. He let one cut brush off his practice sword, but wasn’t in time to get the next one. He managed to turn enough to take the blow on his shoulder. Nothing in his shoulder collapsed beneath the blow, although he knew he would have a hard time moving it tomorrow. It wouldn’t have been a killing blow with real blades, but it was the hardest he’d been hit in many cycles of training.
The pain distracted him just long enough so that he was a moment behind reacting to the next cut. It was coming straight for his head, strong enough to crack his skull open and leave his brains drying on the dock. The world snapped and Ryuu was in a different, more vivid reality. The blow slowed down, and he had enough time to move, dodging backward erratically.
He found his balance and thrust himself back into the fight. The momentum of the battle shifted. After the snap, their moves were too slow, and Ryuu began to gain the upper hand, driving them back towards the end of the pier. It was only a sliver of time, but it was enough. Ryuu moved cleanly within the guard of one of the nightblades and thrust the hilt of his practice sword deep into the nightblade’s abdomen. The man crumpled even as his partner took a desperate cut. It was a good move, but just a fraction of a moment too early. It passed in front of Ryuu, rippling his clothes as he made his own cut. His strike was solid, knocking the other nightblade off his feet.
As each nightblade collapsed, the world sped up to its normal speed. After a few moments of groaning, each worked their way back to their feet. The one Ryuu had hit in the abdomen was using his practice sword as a crutch to stand up on. Ryuu stood ready, but the battle was over. The nightblades made a gesture with their left hand Ryuu didn’t recognize. They each made a fist with their left hand and then pressed it against their abdomen. Not knowing what the gesture meant, Ryuu bowed in return. He returned the practice sword to them as all three of them caught their breath.
Ryuu waited for the nightblades to speak. He had made his case. The one who had initially given the orders spoke again. “That was a good fight, if unexpected this morning. Who are you?”
A warning in the back of Ryuu’s mind urged caution. He remembered that Shigeru had not left the island on good terms. In fact, he had escaped a death sentence. Perhaps his heritage wouldn’t be the first thing he should bring up in conversation.
“My name is Ryuu.”
The two nightblades appraised him. “You are one of us.” It was half a statement, half a question.
Ryuu nodded.
“But you are not one of us.”
Ryuu nodded again and the two nightblades looked at each other thoughtfully.
“Why do you want to go to the island?”
Ryuu considered his answer for a moment. “There are threats against those I care about. I need to learn more so I can protect them from the dangers they face.”
The leader shook his head. “If you go to the island you will never return. It is not permitted.”
Ryuu wondered at that. Shigeru had escaped. That much was true. But he didn’t think Orochi had. Moriko had never mentioned anything about an escape in Orochi’s past. Ryuu had always assumed Orochi had been released or sent away from the island. He wasn’t sure if the two were lying or if there was more to the story than he realized. But he didn’t feel like he had a choice. He had to go to the island. Once he was there he could worry about getting back to the Three Kingdoms.
“That’s a risk I’ve considered. My mind is fixed.”
The decision seemed to be made. “Very well. Come with us.”
Ryuu was a little surprised at the efficiency. The two nightblades climbed into the ship and Ryuu followed, wary of a trap. They shouted orders in a language Ryuu didn’t understand and the crew began preparations to cast off. Ryuu had expected to have to wait, but apparently the ship was ready to leave on a moment’s notice. Interesting.
Ryuu had never been on a ship before, but he found that his stomach had no problems with the pitching of the boat in open seas. The stories of the rough North Sea were legendary, and the ship wasn’t large. Nevertheless, Ryuu rode it smoothly, having fun trying to keep his balance without holding on to anything. It kept him entertained long after it should have become boring.
Even though they flew across the sea for an entire day, Ryuu still did not see the island. He did have his first chance to see what uninterrupted ocean looked like. It was indescribable, blue as far as the eye could see. He rejoiced in the waves crashing against the ship and spraying him with mist. He licked his lips, surprised by just how salty the sea was. Now he understood what it meant to die of thirst in the middle of an ocean of water.
As the sun set, Ryuu noticed a thick cloud hanging low over the sea. Their ship was heading straight towards it, and Ryuu watched its approach with interest. He had seen low clouds, but this cloud hugged the ocean, the gray of the cloud merging with the blue water in an indistinct line. Even though he chided himself, couldn’t shake the suspicion that the cloud was ominous and full of evil intent, a threat to him and the others. He glanced from face to face, but he did not see any fear in the eyes of the crew. Ominous as the cloud may be, it didn’t intimidate the sailors at all.
It made him wonder, but he held his peace as the ship skipped across the waves towards the cloud bank. From a distance the cloud had looked like a solid wall, but he found as he approached that it was more immaterial than it first appeared. The sky darkened, and they were inside the cloud before he knew it. Ryuu watched in fascination as any way of determining distance or direction were lost. The ship did not decrease its speed at all, and the captain seemed completely unconcerned they couldn’t see more than fifty paces inside the cloud. They drove straight ahead at full speed. Ryuu thought he even detected a slight relaxing of the nightblades once they entered the mist.
There was no judging time in that place. It could have been a few moments or it could have been all the remaining daylight. Ryuu did not know, even his fine-tuned senses bewildered by a new experience. He took a deep breath to calm his mind and focus on his sense. The sea surrounding them felt no different than it had before. He reminded himself that vision was only one of his senses and he shouldn’t rely on it as much as he did.
The transition out of the mist was more dramatic than the transition into it. It was sudden, the last rays of sunlight streaming to their light-starved eyes. Ryuu winced, but his eyes adjusted quickly as he looked upon one of the finest sunsets he had ever seen, the sun casting deep reds upon the clouds. If he had been more superstitious he might have been reminded of blood, but he was a practical man, and saw only the beauty of colors not often found in nature.
Sight restored, he scanned his surroundings and immediately picked out their destination. It was, not surprisingly, an island, but its geography was astounding. Sheer cliffs rose out of the sea, plateauing some hundreds of paces above the surface of the ocean. Try as he might, Ryuu couldn’t bring to mind any similar sight. The island was still some distance off, but Ryuu didn’t see any means of getting up the cliffs, nor any place even safe enough to dock the boat. It was majestic and terrifying, and Ryuu knew he had found the birthplace of his master. He took a deep breath as the ship approached. This island had almost killed Shigeru. He hoped it wouldn�
�t do the same to him.
9
If it would have done him any good, Akira would have torn the map to shreds. He kept thinking that if he looked at it long enough he would see something his generals had missed, some key to victory that would turn the tide of the battle. It didn’t matter that he had some of the most brilliant military minds working for him. If his kingdom was in danger, it was his responsibility to save it.
The war wasn’t going well, and that was the most positive way of phrasing it that Akira could come up with. The element of surprise had taken them in completely. He had gotten sloppy, moving so many of his forces south. If the kingdom survived, it wouldn’t be a mistake he would make again.
Akira had yet to get a full army out into the field for a decisive battle. Tanak was moving too fast. Akira had never seen armies move the way Tanak’s were. Tanak was practically jumping forward, hitting only essential strategic locations. Tanak’s information was flawless, probably cycles in the preparation. He knew where the food was stored, where large garrisons were, everything needed to run over the Southern Kingdom.
Akira cursed the brilliance of the invasion. Tanak wasn’t interfering much in the daily lives of Akira’s people. There were almost no reports of violence or rebellion following Tanak’s uprising, but Akira wasn’t surprised. Although his advisers often tried to fill his head with talk of the peasants uprising in defense of their homeland, Akira knew the average peasant didn’t care who was in control. So long as they were safe and unharmed, a fish could sit on the throne.
Akira was also jealous of Tanak’s information network. He didn’t know how they had been penetrated so deeply, but it was abundantly clear Tanak knew this kingdom almost as well as he did. The locations of the garrisons weren’t hard to discover, but Tanak had hit some food storage sites whose locations had been well protected.