by Bryce Allen
Every step they took down the street revealed new details of the palace. Every window was lined with golden plates. Most of the stones had carvings in them, each one unique as far as Kenji could tell.
“These will be your accommodations for the duration of the tournament.”
Toshi gestured to an impressive-looking structure on the side of street. It didn’t compare to the palace, but it was the nicest building Kenji had ever set foot in.
“You have five minutes to prepare for the Tenno Tournament Banquet. I’ll meet you here.”
Kenji was practically pulled from his horse by Sagura. He was given a wet cloth to remove the dirt from his face, and Sagura told him to put on his formal robes. Kenji couldn’t remember the last time he wore anything formal. The robes fit differently, but even Kenji had to admit the clothing looked good when matched with the Gawan champion’s cloak.
Sagura suggested Ebusu change as well, but Ebusu’s only response was a disinterested chuckle. Ebusu rarely wore anything but his charcoal-colored training robes. They were loose and caught the wind, but they disguised his movement. Ebusu would never sacrifice his range of motion or his comfort.
They never even entered the dormitories. Sagura ordered the soldiers to unpack their things while they attended the banquet. They didn’t look happy, but they obeyed. Kenji changed in the street behind a wall of guards. It was awkward, but it expedited the process.
Sagura, Ebusu, Kenji, and Toshi walked the rest of the street to the palace. They made for a strange group, and for once, Kenji felt like he and Sagura were equally ignorant. Ebusu didn’t seem to know what was going on, but he didn’t seem to care. They all just followed Toshi into the palace.
Kenji’s hands were cold and shaking, but his palms were sweaty. He knew that he was breathing faster than normal, but he couldn’t help it. All the other champions would be attending this feast.
Kenji did his best to feign confidence. He took bold steps and held his shoulders back, but he knew it was a facade. He wanted to do what was right for the empire, but with every step he took towards the palace he grew more nervous.
What if the soldiers were right? Kenji was just a boy meddling in men’s affairs. He glanced up at Ebusu and let his master’s demeanor sink in. If Ebusu was calm, Kenji could be calm.
He needed to do what was right for the empire. Despite his fear and his doubt, he was Ebusu’s student—and the champion of Gawa.
Chapter 4
The spectacle of the palace didn’t disappoint. The floor was a wood polished so finely that Kenji could see his reflection. Massive wooden pillars lined the entrance room, each one depicting a fierce dragon or a poised tiger.
Every step they took echoed in the high ceilings. The sound of the banquet was raucous but muted by the walls around them. It was clear that it had already started.
In the entry room of the palace they were greeted by two women that seemed to be servants of some kind. Their faces were painted white, their lips a bright red, and their hair was done up in an intricate design. They bowed to the group, then extended their hands.
Sagura nodded to the women and pulled the jeweled sword from his belt. He gave it to the woman and she silently backed away.
“Is this necessary?” Ebusu’s gruff voice made the woman near him start.
“Sir, the emperor insists that the only sword in the banquet hall be the Zettai.”
Ebusu stared at the woman for a moment. She never raised her head to meet his eyes. Instead, she bowed lower and extended her hands further.
Kenji slid his blade out of his belt. Its absence felt strange, as if he was off balance. As he offered the blade to the woman nearest him he realized how simple his sword looked compared to Sagura’s.
Kenji’s sword was a gift from Ebusu. The sheath was a dark navy, nearly black. The bronze guard was no bigger than it needed to be, and the rope around the handle matched the scabbard. There was no ornamentation, and there was no need. The finely sharpened blade glistening in the sun was all the decoration Kenji could desire.
Sagura’s blade was plated with gold and silver. Every inch of the scabbard had a swirling, metallic design surrounding a jewel of some kind. Even the rope of the handle was flaked with gold. Kenji marveled at the blade for a moment, but then found himself wondering if Sagura could even use it.
Sagura nudged Ebusu, “Just give it up. There isn’t any danger in there.”
“There is danger everywhere in Tenno, governor.” Ebusu sighed.
In a quick, agitated gesture, Ebusu pulled the sword from his belt and thrust it at one of the women. It matched Kenji’s blade perfectly, save for the extra wear on Ebusu’s handle.
Two more servants pulled massive rice-paper doors open, revealing a hallway. Circular paper lanterns lined each side, their colors alternating between pink, white, and red to match the cherry blossoms. They cast a light that gave everything a dark-red hue.
Toshi led them down the hall, and Kenji knew they were getting close. The sounds of celebration were growing louder. Kenji felt his nerves intensify. His hand reached to his sword out of reflex, but found emptiness. He felt vulnerable.
A comforting hand gripped his shoulder. Kenji looked up to find Ebusu staring down at him. He was stern, as always, but his presence was calming.
“Breathe, Kenji. I will be at your side the entire time,” his master said in a low whisper.
Kenji didn’t have time to thank him. The rice paper doors slid open to reveal the banquet. The massive room was dominated by a square of long tables, with an elevated table at the far end of the room. Dozens of people were kneeling around the tables, enjoying their drinks and conversations.
Once the doors slid open, the room fell silent. All the eyes in the room pointed towards him, and suddenly, Kenji wished he’d never put on the burdensome cloak. For a painful instant, no one spoke and no one moved.
A man stood up at the head table. Kenji recognized him immediately from the paintings. It was the emperor. He wore golden robes with intricate designs, and a simple headdress that matched his robes.
Kenji hardly believed what was happening. In his wildest dreams he never thought he would be at a banquet with the emperor. A sense of foolish pride and accomplishment grew within him. He was in the company of the greatest warriors and leaders of the known world.
The emperor looked older than the paintings, though. His beard was sprinkled with flecks of gray, and his facial features looked heavy, tired even. His skin hung from his face. He had the look of a man that carried not a great age, but a great burden. Nonetheless, he stood up, opened his arms wide and addressed the crowd.
“Our final region has arrived. Welcome, Gawa, the proud region responsible for feeding our armies and building our ships during the war.”
The crowd responded with polite applause. Servants guided them to their seats as the emperor continued to speak. Kenji’s shoulders relaxed.
“Now that all the champions are present, we can begin the formalities. Introductions are in order. These are our champions.”
The emperor took a seat and an official near him stood, unrolling a scroll.
“The champion from the Iwase region, Matsu!”
A mountain of a man stood up, not that he had to. He already towered over the people around him while kneeling. His messy hair fell over of his face, partially covering his eyes. His chest and shoulders bulged beneath his robe. Matsu looked back and forth at the applause of the crowd. His expression never wavered from one of annoyance.
“The champion of the Chida Region, Shiro!”
As Matsu knelt, Shiro stood up. In contrast to Matsu, Shiro smiled and waved at the people around him. His hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail. If Kenji were to cross him in the street, he wouldn’t even think he was a swordsman, let alone the best in the Chida Region.
“The champion of South Toku, Yutaka!”
A slender man stood up across from Kenji. He didn’t wave or look around. His gaze lingered on his surrou
ndings. His robes hung loosely over his shoulders, but Kenji could feel the intensity underneath this man. He was a warrior, through and through.
“The champion of the Gawa region, Kenji!”
Kenji stood. He didn’t wave, but he offered a simple nod. He didn’t want to look weak, but he didn’t want to look arrogant. Kenji looked out over the room and realized the applause was just a formality. The faces of the people around him were measuring him, not welcoming him. Kenji took a knee and waited for the next champion to be called.
“The first female champion, Kami of the North Toku region.”
Kenji’s chest was gripped by the icy hand of shock. That name had to be a coincidence.
Kenji glanced around the crowd, waiting for someone to stand up. Across the room, a young woman slowly rose from her table. She flashed a bright smile and looked directly at Kenji.
It was Kami, the same girl that crossed paths with him on the street, no doubt on purpose.
Kenji’s cheeks burned like they were on fire. His whole body itched. How could he be so stupid? Kenji wanted to hide or to run away. He looked up to his master for guidance.
Ebusu looked down at him, well aware of the situation. Ebusu broke his calm disposition for an instant to grin at Kenji and then looked away. He would find no comfort from his master, so he looked down at his knees and waited for the misery to end.
Kami finally knelt. Kenji continued to curse himself mentally as the final champion was announced.
“Another first for this ancient tournament, the champion of Tenno is a member of the royal family. Hiroshi!”
A murmur rolled over the crowd, and the emperor’s brother stood up. Kenji didn’t know that royalty could compete. Why would they even want to? They had all the wealth in the world. What use would they have for the Zettai blade?
Hiroshi was ten years younger than the emperor, but that was all Kenji knew of him. He was never mentioned in any of the history lessons. He wore a golden-patterned robe similar to his brother’s, but his face was clean shaven.
Kenji had to admit, he looked like a swordsman. His broad shoulders and lean build fit the part. His expression never changed from an emotionless calm that reminded Kenji of Ebusu. Hiroshi nodded to the crowd and took his seat.
Kenji noticed the emperor’s face when Hiroshi stood up. His cheeks reddened and his lips carved into a grimace. Kenji thought he even rolled his eyes when Hiroshi was announced.
The emperor stood up as Hiroshi was seated. The room was deathly quiet. He gestured to an official seated at his table, and the man scrambled into action. He reached under his table and presented a sword to the emperor.
“Behold the Zettai.”
The emperor held the sheathed sword above his head for all to see. The scabbard was matte black, but when light from the lanterns caught it just right, Kenji could see an intricate pattern glisten in its surface. The handle appeared to be leather, not fabric.
The simplicity of the blade surprised Kenji. He expected something like Sagura’s gemstone-covered weapon. However, he wasn’t disappointed. He could feel a vague power emanating from the sword. He was sure everyone else could feel it, too.
“Jin wielded this blade for forty-seven years. Fight with honor, not only for your region or the empire, but to honor his memory.”
A painful silence hung on the air. The emperor’s voice cut with an edge of bitterness. Kenji recognized it as the pain of loss. The emperor shoved the blade back into the official’s arms and knelt at his table.
“Please, continue the banquet. Tomorrow, the tournament begins,” the announcer said after a few moments.
On cue, a dozen servants emerged carrying trays of food. They served each table, reigniting the conversation and merriment of the room. Kenji couldn’t keep his eyes from lingering on Kami, though. He was careful to avoid eye contact, but he couldn’t help but feel drawn towards her.
There wasn’t a doubt in Kenji’s mind that Kami was beautiful. Her careful, slender face radiated an effortless energy. There was always half a grin waiting just beneath the surface. Her interactions with others were confident and easy.
Besides her natural beauty, Kenji wanted to understand her. How did a woman come to the Tenno Tournament? There were no rules against it, of course, but there was a social taboo against a woman learning swordsmanship.
Then, above all else, there was their interaction on the street. Every time Kenji’s eyes moved near her, he felt embarrassment redden his cheeks. After the embarrassment faded, he just felt annoyed with her. He assured himself that she must have tried that with other champions, and he tried to enjoy the feast before him.
The food was a welcome distraction. Kenji preferred his simpler diet of fish and vegetables back home, but the feast provided an array of new flavors. He ate until his stomach felt like it was about to burst. The servants offered him rice wine, but Ebusu refused on his behalf with a raised eyebrow.
Sagura and Toshi exchanged dry pleasantries the entire feast and Ebusu remained silent, eating his food at a polite, measured pace. All Kenji had to do was scan the room.
Besides Kami, he studied Hiroshi, the emperor’s brother. No member of the royal family had ever competed in the Tenno Tournament. Kenji just couldn’t understand why Hiroshi would risk a life steeped in comfort and influence just to hold a position similar to the one he was already in.
The longer Kenji watched him, the more tension he observed between the two brothers. Not once did they speak during the banquet. They wouldn’t even look in each other’s direction, yet they were seated next to each other.
Eventually the emperor stood up and wandered the room. He would approach a region’s table, bow, and wish their champion luck. It was the same for every table, until he got to the Gawa region.
Without a trace of formality, the emperor took a seat at the Gawan table. Murmurs came over the room, but he didn’t seem to mind. Sagura and Toshi froze, and their backs straightened. Both of them went pale.
“Master Ebusu.” The emperor lowered his head towards Ebusu.
“Emperor Taishi.” Ebusu matched his bow. Kenji found it strange how easily his master interacted with the emperor, but Taishi didn’t seem offended.
“I am sorry for your loss, Ebusu,” the emperor said quietly. Kenji thought he heard a crack in his voice.
“As I am sorry for yours. Jin was an honorable man.” Ebusu’s face burned with an emotion that Kenji hadn’t seen him wear before: sorrow. Kenji remained quiet, but questions swirled in his mind. How close had Ebusu been to Jin and the emperor?
The emperor cleared his throat and shook his head. He forced a smile and turned his attention to Kenji.
“This must be your student?”
“He is. This is Kenji, son of Tadashi.”
Kenji wasn’t comfortable hearing his father’s name. He stifled his discomfort and bowed until his forehead touched the ground.
“You look like Tadashi.” The emperor offered a soft smile.
“You knew him, emperor?”
“He served in my guard for a time.”
The emperor’s nostalgic smile flickered when he mentioned it, but the topic shifted quickly.
“I want you to meet my son! Taijin!” The emperor waved a boy over from the head table. The child dutifully responded, nearly running to his father’s call. He was probably four years younger than Kenji, but he carried himself with an adult-like discipline.
“Father?”
“Take a seat, my boy. I want you to meet your father’s sword master and his new student.”
Kenji tried to take in what he just heard. Ebusu never mentioned instructing the emperor himself. That seemed like an important thing to mention in the decade of time they had spent together. On top of all that, Kenji hardly considered himself a “new” student.
The boy bowed deeply towards them both. “It is an honor to meet you, Master Ebusu, and your champion. My father speaks of you almost every day.”
“The honor is mine, Taiji
n. Your mother would be proud of the young man you’ve become,” Ebusu said with a slow nod.
The emperor reached up and gave his son a soft pat on the back. For a moment, Taijin’s proper facade faded. His posture slumped and he looked towards his father. In that moment, Kenji felt a strange camaraderie with Taijin: They had both lost a parent.
“May I be excused?”
“Of course, Taijin.”
With a final bow towards the table, Taijin left the room. Kenji’s eyes followed the boy. He saw himself in Taijin, if only for a moment. Their lives were near opposites, but they shared one powerful bond.
The emperor looked around the table, pursing his lips. After a deep breath, he stood up. “I wish you luck tomorrow, Kenji. If you are anything like Ebusu, the empire needs you.”
There was a dire edge to the emperor’s voice, and he locked eyes with Kenji. The intensity caught Kenji by surprise. It made the emperor’s statement feel like an order that must be followed.
Emperor Taishi performed a low bow and turned away, “Sagura, Toshi, you can breathe now.”
The cool night air was a refreshing change from the thick, warm air of the banquet hall. Shortly after the conversation they shared with the emperor, Kenji and Ebusu excused themselves. Night had fallen while they feasted, but the lamps kept the cherry blossom street well lit.
The student and his master walked in silence. Kenji wanted to bombard Ebusu with questions, but he didn’t know where to start. Above all else, Kenji wanted to know why Ebusu had kept so much from him.
Ebusu let out a long sigh and spoke, “Kenji, I can tell you are frustrated, but none of that matters now. The war twisted all of our fates together, but the war is over now.”
“You knew Jin? The one who wielded the Zettai? You must have been close for the emperor to offer you condolences.”
“We were close. We trained together for many years.”
Kenji forced himself into silence long enough to be considered polite, then spoke carefully.
“You trained the emperor?”