by Ryan Kirk
Akira rode back to camp. He would start their meal, doing what he could to aid the fight. They would rest nearby for one evening, but they would be on the move again tomorrow. They hoped to reach the next village soon to rest there and trade for supplies.
Yung and the men rode in not far behind him. As Akira examined their faces he saw a mixture of sorrow and pride. They had won the battle, but they had lost friends.
Yung stopped next to Akira. “We lost three.”
There was nothing else that needed to be said. Akira bowed slightly to Yung, who rode in silence towards his tent. If he took a step back, three soldiers wasn’t a tremendous loss, especially considering they had killed over thirty Azarians. But his men were the best warriors in the kingdom, and the loss of any one of them was hard to swallow. He still had most of his men, but it wasn’t enough. Not against the flood of Azarians coming into the kingdom. He would miss his men. He reminded himself to get Yung to tell him who he had lost in the battle.
As his men rested together the next night, Akira reflected on the events that were starting to change the shape of the kingdom. Everything he had known, everything he grown up believing, was changing under the Azarian threat.
The first fact, more obvious than any other, was that his people were suffering. Everywhere they went, Akira and his men heard stories of tragedy and pain, stories of families being forced from their homes, forced to serve the foreign invaders. Some places seemed better than others, but overall the story was the same. It was a bad time to live in the kingdom. There was no guarantee of safety, and absolutely no guarantee of justice.
Moriko had warned them, and her predictions were becoming reality every day. There was the story of one clan that wandered the kingdom seeking strong warriors. When no one stood up to them, they would slaughter the entire village. Another clan had enslaved a village. New Haven had become a center of misery. Many had fled there when the rumors had first spread, and the city had rapidly grown overcrowded. Now two clans sat outside of New Haven, blocking any entrance or exit. There were rumors the starving people locked in the city had resorted to cannibalism. Meanwhile, the clans sat happily outside, enjoying a never-ending feast.
But along with the suffering, there was hope. It was a small pinprick of light in a blanket of darkness, but it was there. News of Akira and his deeds was starting to spread throughout the kingdom, and more and more often he and his men were receiving a hero's welcome. It wasn't much, but knowing that his people knew he was out there fighting for them made the struggle worth it.
The village they were in had so far been unharmed by the advance of the Azarians. They were near the far northern borders of Akira's old kingdom, and Akira wondered whether they had escaped notice because they were small or because of their location. Ultimately, Akira didn't care why they had been spared, he was simply grateful the Azarian menace hadn't touched all his people yet.
The village welcomed them with open arms. They slaughtered one of their cows when they heard of Akira's arrival, a valuable gift for his men. That night the beast was roasted, and the storehouses of the village were opened to them. As tempting as it was to feast, Akira's men took little. They knew resources were scarce, and although they appreciated the support of the people, every bite of food they took was one the village would not have available in their hard times.
Akira spent most of the evening listening to stories being told around the fire. He and his men had become almost as popular as legendary outlaws, a role his men seemed to relish. The stories they told around the campfire were full of embellishment, and if Akira hadn't been with them during their engagements, he would've thought that each of them had slaughtered hundreds of Azarians. But he did not stop his men. They enjoyed being heroes, and their stories built their little unit into a legend, which was what Akira was really hoping for. As a man, he could only do so much, but as a legend, there was nothing they couldn’t accomplish.
So Akira let his men tell their stories, even joining in on occasion.
As the evening wore on, there was a short lull in the conversation, as though the conversation hit a wall. It was the wall that signified the villagers were done hearing about what Akira and his men had accomplished, and became interested in understanding what they were going to accomplish next. Akira had gotten used to that particular silence, had come to look forward to it. In that silence he started to spread a new message.
"Everyone, thank you for your hospitality. Our life on the road is one of struggle, but every time we come to a village we are greeted with a warmth that reminds us why we do this. We'll leave in the morning, for it is unsafe for us to spend too much time in any one place. What I would leave you with is this: Our times are changing. It is a painful change, one that none of us wishes to live through. But it is happening all the same, and we must be ready."
"I come to you today with a message, a message which may be difficult to hear, but one that needs to be heard nonetheless. Do not give up hope. There is still more strength in the land than you would believe. I'm going to tell you a secret now, a secret that has only been known to the lords for hundreds of cycles. It is about the nightblades."
Akira waited a few moments. He had given the speech a dozen times, refining it each time in the telling. At the first mention of the nightblades, he saw the uncertainty in the eyes of all the villagers. He understood. He knew how they had grown up in a world where nightblades represented everything that was evil, and changing that perception would not be easy. But he had succeeded before, and he would again. He had to.
"The nightblades still exist, and they are still in the kingdom. While we hunted them, they remained hidden. Yes, they were responsible for the shattering of our kingdom over a thousand cycles ago, but they have learned from the error of their ways, and now exist to serve our people once again. I know this is hard to believe, but it has been true for a very long time. In this our time of greatest need, the nightblades will return to save us."
Akira gave everyone a moment to allow the message to sink in. There was always a moment of silence, followed by a flurry of questions. He was ready. If the nightblades were going to be coming back, the land needed to be ready for them, and it was his mission.
Now he only hoped he wasn’t lying to his people.
25
Moriko couldn't believe how large the island was. She had heard stories from Ryuu, but it was another thing altogether to see the island in person. It seemed impossible that an island so large would remain undiscovered. However, as their small ship neared the island, she saw firsthand just how impregnable it would be. As they sailed into the hidden bay, Moriko knew there was no way anyone would find the island and get to it on their own. If they were lucky enough to do so, Moriko had little doubt the nightblades would make sure they never left.
She had been angered by Tenchi's attempt to get her to take the nightblade trials. She wouldn’t be a part of any system, no matter how well intentioned it might be. Her only concern was herself.
Her anger had passed quickly though. The old man meant well, and did not know how much Moriko detested the systems the nightblades had created. Also, the novelty of the island was amazing to her. Ryuu had been here before, and thought nothing of it, but for Moriko, it was a wonderful experience. There were other nightblades. Everyone knew who and what they were. And they were safe. The island was everything Moriko had dreamed of for the past few moons, and it didn’t disappoint. It was impossible for her to hang on to her anger.
They were accompanied by a small party as they hiked the long trail which led to the top of the island. On their way to the top, Ryuu and Tenchi exchanged news. Moriko tuned out as Ryuu told his half of the story. She had been there and knew everything Ryuu was going to say. His story held no interest for her. But her ears perked up when Tenchi started to talk about events on the island.
"It has been a tumultuous time since you left, Ryuu," the old man said.
Ryuu was instantly alert. "What happened?"
&n
bsp; Tenchi gave Ryuu a look that Moriko couldn't decipher.
"I’m sure you are aware your first arrival here threw this island into an uproar. Now you force the question of our return. We didn't reach a decision while you were with us before, although the conversation has been continuing ever since, and at times it has become rather heated."
Ryuu nodded. There seemed to be something more that Tenchi was saying that Moriko wasn't picking up on, but Ryuu was. "Has she done anything she's going to regret later?"
Moriko realized the two of them were speaking of Shika, the leader of Tenchi's opposition on the island.
"Not yet, but I fear your second arrival will put us to the test. The question must be answered, once and for all."
This time, Tenchi fixed Ryuu with a stare that was unambiguous. "But that is why you returned, isn't it?"
Ryuu nodded. "The need for the nightblades has never been greater. And never before has there been a time where our return could have the impact it would now. With the Three Kingdoms reunited, it only seems right the nightblades return to protect the land as they once did."
Tenchi stroked his long beard. "Perhaps it is as you say. I still have many fears and concerns, but this decision is bigger than me. This is a decision for all of us to make."
Ryuu nodded again. "I agree."
With that, the discussion about the future of the nightblades was at an end. There was nothing else for the two of them to discuss, but both men seemed content to walk together in silence. Moriko was fascinated by how the two of them could disagree on such an important topic and still be friends.
She didn't have much time to wonder about that as they neared the top entrance to the island. The transition to daylight was sudden, as heavy curtains had been placed over the mouth of the tunnel. Moriko blinked away the tears and was astounded by what she saw.
Ryuu had told her what to expect, of course, but it was still different seeing it in person. There were small homes as far as the eye could see, dropping off suddenly into the infinite blue expanse of the sea. There were so many of them! Moriko's eyes drifted from the houses to the people, and she could see evidence of the daily training and work which defined life on the island. It was the training that drew her eye more than anything else. She watched the smooth cuts, the expert blocks, and she knew with a certainty she was someplace she had not been since she was very young. She was home.
Moriko studied her opponent. He was taller and stronger than her, but that wasn't unusual. She had never been a tall woman, and the men on the island seemed to delight in holding that fact over her head. It was probably because none of them had found a way to beat her in combat yet.
The man in front of her held his blade with an easy grace. He had seen several more cycles than Moriko, but she wasn't worried. At first, they had trained her against younger opponents, young men and women who were still reaching adulthood. The young men had been full of energy, and as she started to defeat them, they became more and more focused; but day after day they still fell beneath her wooden blade. She started giving private lessons to some of the younger women, showing them how to turn an opponent’s strength to their own advantage.
It hadn't been long before she was matched against older opponents, men with more skill with the sword. Moriko had been excited to see what they were capable of, but again, every opponent she faced fell with barely a struggle. She had known she was strong, but it was only on an island filled with other nightblades that she began to realize just how strong she was.
Her reverie was interrupted when the nightblade she was fighting moved forward. His approach was cautious. He had seen her fight several times, and was under no illusions as to her ability. If he was going to fall, it wouldn't be through overconfidence or a silly mistake.
Moriko was completely inside herself, and knew there was no way this nightblade would be able to sense her intent. She felt his strike coming far in advance, and at the last possible moment, took a small step back to allow the wooden blade to pass harmlessly in front of her.
The nightblade was surprised, but his cut had been a cautious one. He wasn't going to overcommit and leave himself wide open. He cut again, and again Moriko took a slight step back at the very last moment.
The pattern continued for two more passes, Moriko allowing his cuts to slice through empty air. Despite his training, she could see he was starting to get frustrated. It would only be a matter of time before he made the mistake that would end this game.
He struck again, this time a little harder than he had before, a little faster, hoping to catch her unawares. Moriko dodged the cuts, and sensed him about to step forward, putting his full weight into another powerful strike.
It was exactly what she'd been waiting for. She abruptly reversed course, moving suddenly towards him instead of away from him. He was already committed to his attack, and Moriko saw that he knew he had lost already. She batted aside his blade before he could generate enough force to be a danger to her, and in one simple move, she was inside his guard. She could have gone easy on him, but that wasn't in her nature. Moriko trained to kill, and if she ever lost that, there was no telling how long she would last in the outside world.
Moriko cut with all her strength, striking the nightblade with a strength and violence he wasn’t expecting. The air went out of his lungs, and Moriko watched with pleasure as he collapsed, struggling to catch his breath. She looked around for any other challengers.
There were none, and Moriko wasn't surprised. They all wanted to be stronger than her, but none of them had what it took, and most of them knew it. There were some who would try their luck, but those who did always felt her blade.
Ryuu and Tenchi were there, as they often were, watching her fight. She had trained against Ryuu, and was fairly certain he was the only one on the island who had any chance of striking her. When they dueled, it was anybody's guess who would win. Ryuu was faster and stronger, but Moriko's ability to hide from the sense gave her a fighting chance as well. Ryuu was always capable of a good fight.
Moriko went to join Tenchi and Ryuu. Tenchi, as he always did, seemed to know what was in her mind without her having to say a word.
"Moriko, I do not know if we have anyone on this island who is a match for you. Perhaps myself, on a good day, but I'm getting older, while you are getting stronger. Even I don't know if I can teach you anything else."
Moriko shook her head. "I find it hard to believe there isn't anyone here who can challenge us. There's so many of you. It seems unlikely that Ryuu and I would have such an advantage."
Tenchi shook his head. "I, on the other hand, don't find it surprising at all. You need to remember, Moriko, that you and Ryuu grew up in a hostile environment. You have always known that your skills were the only thing keeping you alive in the land you grew up in. You were in constant danger, and your life was always on the line. It's not to say that you aren’t gifted, for both of you certainly are, but that gift has been tempered in the fires of life and death. You fight because your life depends on it. Here they train because it’s what is expected of them. Your experiences are something the nightblades here don't understand. It is no surprise to me you have become as powerful and as strong as you have. If you hadn’t, you’d be dead."
Moriko thought about what Tenchi said. She’d never thought of it in that way, but his idea seemed right to her. Whenever she dueled any of the nightblades on the island, there was always a hesitation, a particular softness in their strikes. Neither she nor Ryuu had such a softness. They trained and fought to kill, and it was a very different experience than training and fighting simply to get stronger.
It made Moriko wonder if Ryuu's goal of getting the nightblades to return was worth pursuing. The hunters were like her and Ryuu. Their skills were forged on the battlefield of life, and all their softness had been burned away under the merciless Azarian sun. All that was left was strength, strength Moriko worried the nightblades on the island wouldn’t be able to match.
She
looked up at Ryuu, and from the look on his face, she figured he was thinking something very similar. The nightblades were strong, but she didn't know if they were strong enough.
Moriko and Ryuu sat across from each other in the small home Ryuu had been given when he first came to the island. They were eating the evening meal, and Ryuu brought up the topic she had hoped never to discuss. They had already been on the island a half moon, and Moriko knew every day was a hard one for Ryuu. He had wanted to go to the island and bring the nightblades back to the kingdom the next day, but Tenchi wouldn’t allow such haste. He argued that the nightblades faced the most important decision of the past thousand cycles of their history. It would be foolish to rush to an emotional decision.
Moriko had met Shika and found that she liked the leader of Tenchi’s opposition. She was strong and outspoken, two characteristics Moriko valued. Shika was a frequent visitor as Moriko and Ryuu made plans to return the nightblades to the kingdom. Ryuu was using the time given by Tenchi as an opportunity to set up meetings with small groups of blades on the island, holding intense discussions as to the future of their people.
Moriko had attended one of the meetings and found it boring. The arguments were predictable and obvious. Ryuu and Shika didn’t coerce people. They simply asked that everyone think carefully on the arguments both for and against returning to the kingdom. Moriko decided she had better things to do, and she spent her days training, escaping the political nonsense Ryuu engaged in.
They hadn't settled the question between themselves yet, and it was a question Ryuu was ready to force.
It was an unfair question for him to ask. She knew he wanted to bring the nightblades back, and he knew she never wanted to leave the island. But they both wanted to stay with each other, and that was where their problem lay.