by Ryan Kirk
Ryuu threw out his sense, searching for more information. Someone was above him, at least twenty paces up. Ryuu focused and sensed the pull of a bow. He cursed silently to himself and threw himself forward. He tried to land in a smooth roll, but he couldn’t see the ground and he smashed into it with his shoulder. Behind him, he heard the soft hiss of an arrow as it passed where he had been, then clattering against the rock. He drew his blade, his body primed for action. But the person above him was gone, walking away through some passage high above him. Ryuu guessed he’d just passed the second trial, leaving one last. Holding his hands out, he traced the shape of the room until he came to another smooth passage. He followed it.
Ryuu found the same technique of keeping one hand above him and one hand following a wall served him well. Again, he lost his sense of direction. He could feel the ground was angled upwards, but beyond that slight piece of information he could have been walking in a void.
He paused on occasion to take a deep breath and throw out his sense, but every time it came back with nothing. In the Three Kingdoms, the darkness had been his friend. He could sense what others couldn’t see, but in here it felt malicious. Was this the way his opponents felt when they knew he was near? He knew he’d welcome the first light he saw.
Doubt was starting to creep into Ryuu’s mind when he sensed a shift in the air. It wasn’t much, but any sensation at all in these tunnels was significant to him. He threw out his senses and waited. He decided he was in another large room. It was impossible to say more with any confidence. He moved forward cautiously, straining his sense to see if he could feel anything that would lend him a clue to what was next.
Ryuu was surprised to sense a blade spinning towards him. He hadn’t sensed anyone in the room with him. It wasn’t thrown fast, but it was spinning rapidly, aimed right at Ryuu’s chest. He moved to the side as it went spinning past him. It clattered as it struck the rock behind him.
Clatter? Ryuu realized it was a practice sword that had been thrown at him. His sense was strained, but he couldn’t feel anything else coming at him, or anyone else in the room. After a couple of breaths passed, Ryuu searched the ground behind him and picked the sword up. He had a suspicion he’d be using it for the next trial.
If he couldn’t sense the person throwing the sword, there was only one logical explanation. He had thought Orochi’s skills unique on the island, but apparently others possessed the ability to suppress their presence as well. They were in for a surprise. He’d been living with Moriko for two cycles. Now that he knew what he was looking for, he wouldn’t be surprised again. Ryuu found another passage and followed it, knowing the end was near.
It was obvious to his heightened senses when he reached the final room. He had been in the darkness long enough that he was beginning to understand it. This room was different than the ones he’d been in before. Here there was a strong breeze, and although it was still pitch black, Ryuu felt like he must be getting closer to the surface.
Ryuu found a place to stand his ground and halted. He knew if a challenge was going to occur, it would happen in its own time. So he stood and focused, trying to understand the space around him. He was trying to sense someone who could suppress their power like Moriko. It was challenging in the room. Typically, Ryuu sensed Moriko as a shadow. Everywhere they went was teeming with life, from the bugs and the grass below them to the birds above them. Moriko’s ability cast a slight shadow, and if you knew what you were looking for, it was easy to find. But this cave wasn’t teeming with life, so there wasn’t any shadow to cast. It was probably why he hadn’t sensed his opponent yet. When everything is darkness, a shadow hides well.
Ryuu’s mind raced. If he couldn’t sense his opponent he suspected he’d fail the next trial. There had to be a way to find him. When the idea struck, it almost knocked Ryuu back with its brilliance.
Moriko had been trying to teach him how to suppress his presence, just like Orochi had taught her. Ryuu had never mastered it like Moriko had, but he understood the idea. But if one could suppress their presence, it followed that one could expand their presence as well. The Abbot at Perseverance had done it, so it should be possible. Ryuu thought back to the Abbot to try to remember how it had felt to be near him.
When he thought he had it, Ryuu tried to expand his presence. It seemed like it was working, but it was tough to tell. He kept pushing and pushing, putting more mental effort into every attempt.
He felt the faint stirrings of a shadow near him. His idea had worked! He brought his attention to bear, but it disappeared. Frowning, Ryuu focused again on expanding his presence, and again he could just make out a shadow near him. He wrapped his hands around his practice sword in preparation.
Ryuu decided to let his opponent know the game was up. “I know you’re there.”
Ryuu registered the shock from his opponent. He was so focused that when the attack came it was like being struck by lightning. The sudden sensory input was far beyond what he had gotten used to. He was prepared, though, so he moved out of the way while he gathered his wits. He could barely sense the second attack. It was as if the intruder had suppressed his intent instantly. Moriko couldn’t do that.
The battle between the two was pitched. Ryuu wasn’t sure if his attacker was carrying steel, so was hesitant at first, attempting to deflect cuts he would have preferred to block. But the sound of wood on wood reassured him, and he threw himself into the battle.
The battle went back and forth. Ryuu figured he was better with the sword, but his opponent kept trying to blind his sense by alternating bright, intent strikes with strikes where his intent was hidden. Ryuu had never encountered any strategy like it, and it prevented him from getting the upper hand against his opponent.
But as the fight wore on, the ability of Ryuu’s opponent started to deteriorate. He wasn’t able to switch from one type of strike to the next as quickly, and Ryuu gained the ability to sense the attacks with more and more clarity. Ryuu stayed on the defensive. He knew if he kept himself safe, his opponent would wear out to a point when Ryuu could strike with little risk.
The moment was longer in coming than he expected. Every time he felt like he was just about ready to strike, his opponent would seem to find another reserve of energy and attack with renewed vigor, and Ryuu would find himself on the defensive again.
The outcome, however, was inevitable. Barring a lucky strike, his opponent couldn’t outlast Ryuu. Ryuu could sense enough to know where the blows were coming and was able to keep one step in front of his opponent.
When the moment came, Ryuu felt like a door had opened in front of him. In frustration, his opponent had struck out with too much force and lost his balance. It was only a matter of a moment, but Ryuu had sensed the moment coming and was prepared for it. He thrust violently, catching his opponent in the stomach.
Ryuu was surprised when the gasp of pain was female. He had been fighting in complete darkness. There was no way to tell if his opponent had been man or woman. But he had assumed he was fighting a man. The blows he had deflected were strong. Moriko was the only woman he knew capable of striking with such force.
He chastised himself. He was on an island where there were other nightblades, other women who were as strong as he and Moriko. Hopefully stronger. It was why he had come here in the first place.
Ryuu’s thoughts were swept away by the wave of light that flashed all around him. Ryuu blinked away the tears at the sudden brightness. He looked down at his opponent. The woman was really a girl, a cycle or two younger than Ryuu. Her eyes shone with a bright intensity, but she was grinning through the pain. She was attractive, strong and capable. She looked up at him with a mixture of respect and nervousness.
He smiled and extended his hand. It had been an excellent fight. She looked at it, hesitating, before returning his smile and placing her hand in his. He helped her up, surprised by her weight. She was small, but Ryuu could sense the strong muscles covered by the flowing robes.
He t
ook a moment to look around him. The room he was in was large, a perfectly flat surface contained inside a hemisphere of smoothly carved rock. The room must have taken ages to make, and Ryuu was impressed by the skill of those on the island. As he watched, an even section of rock developed a crack, and the crack opened to reveal a door the older man from below walked through.
Again, Ryuu was struck by the power of this man. It was something beyond what Ryuu understood. It was a power deep and bottomless, but contained, like a well with no bottom. When Ryuu looked into the man’s eyes he knew the man held a knowledge and wisdom about the world that Ryuu could only dream of trying to obtain. His eyes sparkled with a hidden mirth as he looked Ryuu over.
“Well done, Ryuu.”
The voice was soft but commanding. Not even knowing the man, Ryuu found himself bowing deeply to him in a gesture of respect. As he came back up he saw the man looking at him again, studying him in a way that made Ryuu feel naked, but still strangely comfortable. It was difficult to describe. It was almost as though he was being observed by a parent.
Ryuu didn’t know what to say, so he decided to stay silent, observing everything happening around him. A few nightblades trickled into the room behind the old man, but no one seemed to have any hostile intent. Most just seemed curious to see him.
Ryuu returned his gaze to the old man. “How do you know my name?”
The old man tilted his head and looked at Ryuu as though he expected Ryuu to figure out his own question. Ryuu thought about it for a moment. There were a couple of possible explanations, but only one was likely. “Orochi wrote to you.”
The old man nodded. “My name is Tenchi, and I am the leader of the last of the blades. I formally welcome you to our island, Ryuu, adopted son of Shigeru. It is my great pleasure to officially bestow on you the rank of nightblade.”
Something was close to breaking in Ryuu. After all these cycles, was it possible he had found a place to call home? A place where he would be welcomed for who he was? He contained his emotion. “Thank you. It is an honor to be here.” He didn’t know what else to say, so he said nothing.
Tenchi seemed to understand. He turned to the assembled group of nightblades. “Brothers and sisters, please join me in welcoming our new brother.” He turned back to Ryuu and bowed deeply, the other nightblades following suit.
Ryuu held back tears. He was home. He was a nightblade.
12
“Well,” said Lord Tanak, “what do you think?”
Renzo stood with Tanak on the same hill Lord Akira had stood so foolishly on the day before. Renzo had wanted to disappear into the battle and assassinate Akira, but Tanak hadn’t allowed him, wanting him nearby for protection in case the battle turned against them.
It had been the first large-scale battle Renzo had ever observed, and he’d been impressed by the generals who commanded such large groups of men. It was barely contained chaos, but the commanders brought some semblance of order to the nightmare below. Renzo had tried to use his sense to gather more information about the battle, but he was overwhelmed by the information coming into his mind.
Renzo came back to the present. “It was well fought, my lord. It only serves to strengthen my belief in our seers. A great victory is nothing more than a matter of time.”
Tanak grinned from ear to ear at the statement. Renzo was disgusted. Everyone in the Three Kingdoms was weak, but Tanak was pathetic. He was weak because he thought he was great. There were no seers on the island, no one who dared predict the future. Even that old fool Tenchi knew the future was still unwritten. But Tanak believed so much in himself, he readily believed in seers of the future. It was an abomination, although it had made a fair number of charlatans in the Western Kingdom rich. It was profitable to predict success for the lord.
“I am glad to hear it. I know you wished to enter the fray, but I am grateful for your protection.”
Renzo hid his thoughts. Tanak wasn’t grateful; he was terrified of death. He would have collapsed into a blubbering pile of panic if he hadn’t known Renzo was nearby. In Renzo’s eyes, Tanak wasn’t fit to lead, but because of his weakness he was the perfect tool.
Tanak continued. “What do you think Akira will do now?”
Renzo was pondering the same question. Akira was a competent leader of his kingdom. Weaker than Sen, in Renzo’s estimation, but still competent. Akira’s First had never come up from the pass, even though there weren’t any reports of battle. His Fourth was a disorganized mess and his Fifth had just been shattered. Tanak’s First had taken substantial losses, and they were fighting at less than half strength. Tanak’s armies were slightly larger than Akira’s, and Renzo’s best guess had Tanak with almost half again as many soldiers left. He tried to put himself in Akira’s position, but the truth was, he had no idea. He was a killer, not a commander.
Renzo’s primary concern was that they hadn’t done as thorough of a job destroying Akira’s armies as he had hoped. While the survivors couldn’t mount an organized resistance, they were loyal to Lord Akira, and they could harass supply lines.
Renzo answered honestly. “I don’t know. But he won’t take this without fighting back.”
Tanak nodded. “I think you’re right, old friend.” He walked away, and Renzo shook his head. Allies they might be for now. Friends they definitely weren’t.
Two days passed, and little had occurred to improve Renzo’s mood. Tanak had decided to celebrate with his men after the victory. He ordered that two days be spent reorganizing the troops. His argument was that it would give his men a chance to relax, to rejoice and get to know the new soldiers in their units.
It all sounded fine to Renzo, but time was Akira’s friend more than it was theirs. They needed to keep jumping forward, pushing before Akira could organize his troops. Rest was fine, but ultimate victory required more of the men. It would require sacrifice. Still, Tanak was the ruler, and there was little Renzo could do to force the issue.
His fears regarding Akira’s left-over troops were proving to be well founded. Though Tanak and his men were supposed to be at rest, they were attacked over and over. Nothing major. Nothing even substantial. But every soldier they lost here was a soldier who couldn’t push deeper into the Southern Kingdom.
Renzo spent the evening in his tent meditating while the revelry happened without him. His tent was small and bare, and many commented on how Tanak’s closest adviser kept little for himself. Renzo traveled and lived simply. His life was dedicated to one purpose, a purpose not even Tanak had ever guessed at. His life was dedicated to forcing the blades to take their place in the Three Kingdoms once again.
His meditation was interrupted by a clamor of activity outside, the shouts of men in battle. Renzo furrowed his brow. It wasn’t the sound of men in friendly competition around a campfire. It was the sound of men at war. Renzo allowed his sense to expand. Here in the camp, he usually kept it close to him. But a battle was being waged outside, about a hundred paces away from his own tent, right next to Tanak’s.
Renzo reached for his sword, but hesitated. His blood burned with the desire to fight, but he had to hold here if he could. If there was even a rumor that Tanak had a nightblade in his army, their entire situation could change. He prepared, covering himself in cloth, leaving only his eyes uncovered. If he did have to fight, he couldn’t be recognized. All the while he kept his sense on the battle.
It was hard to tell with so many people, but Renzo guessed it was almost a hundred men attacking, a group of incredible size considering they were so near the heart of Tanak’s camp.
The battle moved closer to Tanak’s tent. Too many of his honor guard were drunk or ill-prepared for combat. It would be only moments before Tanak himself was involved. Renzo had no love for Tanak, but he was necessary to Renzo’s plans. He stepped out of his tent and took a moment to survey the scene. The soldiers from the south had stolen uniforms from Tanak’s men. Renzo assumed they’d raided the dead on the battlefields. It was how they had managed to
get so close without drawing suspicion. Dishonorable, but effective.
It was all the information Renzo needed. He drew his blade, felt the energy of the night surround him, and he moved.
To Renzo, killing the soldiers from the south was as easy as drawing breath. Their strikes were weak, slow, and Renzo could sense them coming far before they were a danger to him. There was a moment when Renzo felt some measure of disgust at the work he was called to do. It wasn’t that he had to kill so many men, but that the men he had to kill were so weak. They didn’t deserve to hold a sword. If they were stronger, if they could truly fight for themselves, he wouldn't be needed.
Soldier after soldier fell to Renzo's blade. His ears filled with the screams of battle, but the longer he worked, the fewer screams he heard. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Tanak had left his tent. His armor was on haphazardly, and his eyes were bleary. He did not shout orders or give commands, but gazed upon the battlefield with a look of disbelief on his face. It was as though he could not understand what was happening right in front of him. Renzo swore to himself. The man was so blinded by his own vision of greatness, he didn't realize he was just as fallible and as mortal as the people standing next to him.
What was more of a problem for Renzo was that Tanak was standing outside his tent, open to attack from any who saw him, and there were plenty of soldiers from the south who had seen him. There weren't many left, maybe ten to fifteen, but those remaining attacked with a renewed vigor when they saw their target in the flesh. Renzo understood. For the soldiers who were attacking, this had never been a mission they planned on returning from.
Renzo brought his attention back to the moment, and his blade sang its song as it drank the blood of one victim after the next. In a moment, he was by Tanak's side, defending him from the last few remaining warriors. The lord of the Western Kingdom didn't even draw his blade. Renzo didn't know if it was due to disbelief or to fear, but it didn't matter. Either way, the man was pathetic.