Chosen by the Blade

by Bryce Allen

  Matsu reached striking distance, but Kami remained still. She was a statue. Only her eyes followed Matsu, nothing else. Matsu hesitated to attack. He stayed motionless, just outside her guard for a few painful breaths.

  With all the strength and fury Kenji expected out of a man like Matsu, he slashed at Kami. The cut nearly ripped her in two, but at the last instant she leaped into the air and twisted over the blade. She was a cyclone, her robes and weapons blurring into one.

  Matsu only caught air with his cut, and Kami landed on his open side. With a flick of her wrist, she made a quick cut towards Matsu.

  Their blades clashed as Matsu caught the attack with the edge of his sword. Kami was already following through with her sheath. It slipped through their locked blades and knocked Matsu over the head.

  The wooden sheath and Matsu’s skull clapped together and Matsu backpedaled, shaking his head. His eyes widened with disbelief, and he stared at the girl in front of him. He seemed more shocked than injured, but his stance was more tentative and defensive than before. Kami was not to be underestimated.

  Before Matsu could move back toward her, Kami leaped towards him. She rotated forward in the air, making a full circle. She put the momentum into her blade and cut down towards Matsu’s head. Matsu blocked it and scrambled backwards, wary of the sheath.

  Kami landed gracefully and kept the pressure on Matsu. She leaped and spun again, pushing Matsu back at will. She was a bird dancing around a bear. Matsu swung again and again, always missing at the last possible moment.

  Kami leaped, twisted, and rolled, viciously attacking with every movement she made. Even when a cut seemed impossible, her blade darted towards Matsu. He managed to block every one, but his guard was forced in tight.

  His blade was barely inches from his chest. He twisted his entire frame with his sword, fighting to keep his massive blade between himself and death. It was impressive that Matsu managed to block such dynamic attacks with such a large sword. Few in the empire would be able to move that weapon with such speed.

  The crowd was silent. All that could be heard were Matsu’s growls of frustration and Kami’s cloak billowing in the air. Their movements were punctuated with a clashing of blades and the grinding of steel.

  Matsu’s exhaustion was clear. His face and arms glistened with a thin layer of sweat. His swings became more erratic with every missed cut. Kenji had to remind himself to breathe.

  Kami’s blade caught flesh. Kenji barely saw it. She dove past Matsu and her blade cut deep into his shoulder. Blood poured from the wound before Kami even landed.

  Matsu didn’t react to the wound. Instead, he spun around with a powerful cut. Kami was still rolling to her feet, and her guard was down.

  Matsu had taken the attack on purpose. He needed to create an opening. A sacrifice had been his only move, and now he had her.

  Time seemed to slow as every muscle tensed on the beast of a man. The power of his attack could have torn a tree from the ground, and it was directed at Kami’s chest. Even the crowd saw it and gasped at Kami’s impending death.

  Kami sensed the attack at the last possible moment. She lifted her blade and caught Matsu’s. What sounded like a crack of thunder rumbled over the crowd. Kami was hurled away, fluttering, limp and twisted.

  She soared across half of the arena, rolling to a stop near the wall. She didn’t move. Kenji couldn’t tell how broken her body was in the heap that she’d landed in.

  Her sword fell at her side, but it wasn’t complete. Matsu’s attack had cut her blade in two.

  “What kind of a man can cut a blade like that?” Taijin asked, trembling beside Kenji.

  “I don’t know,” Kenji whispered.

  While Kami lay motionless on the ground, Matsu sheathed his sword and clutched the wound on his shoulder. The blood rolled down his arm and gathered in a crimson puddle at his feet. His attack had landed, but it came at a cost.

  Matsu searched the arena for an official, someone to pronounce Kami dead. Kenji couldn’t believe it would end like that. All of that skill snuffed out in a single, desperate attack.

  Did the best warrior really win?

  Frustrated, Matsu looked to the emperor’s balcony.

  “Do I have to hold up her dead body? Announce me the winner and let me leave this place!”

  Matsu’s voice cracked, and his posture started to slump. The blood loss was draining his energy.

  The emperor sighed and started to stand. Ebusu cut him off.

  “Emperor, give her another moment.”

  “Ebusu, the girl is dead.”

  “What is a moment to the dead? She will wait.”

  Kenji looked to his master. Kenji thought he saw a grin. It was gone as quick as it came, and Ebusu looked away. A sliver of hope lit a fire in Kenji, and he looked down at Kami, willing her to move.

  As if on cue, Kami’s arm moved.

  She fumbled around, feeling the ground around her for her weapon. She found the handle and pulled it in close. She rolled onto her hands and knees and stood.

  Kami wielded her blade in her off hand, and Kenji realized why—her sword arm was dislocated.

  Kami took a few steps towards Matsu, but on the last she stumbled. She caught herself, but she swayed back and forth. The blow had injured her. Her eyes wouldn’t stay focused on anything for long. The fire in her gaze was extinguished.

  As she stumbled, Kami fell into the same low stance that she started the fight with. Her sheath was gone, and there was less than a foot left of her blade. She didn’t seem bothered by it. Kenji wondered if she even realized half of her sword was missing.

  Matsu wasn’t doing much better. He’d grown pale in the time it took Kami to rise from the dead. His knees shook with exertion, but his eyes were still focused on Kami. He nodded to himself when she took her stance.

  Matsu took a deep breath and drew his sword. His body strained against the weight of his oversized blade. He gripped it with both hands, but the weakness was evident in his wounded arm. His fingers trembled as he tried to tighten them around the hilt.

  A familiar smell filled the air. A cool, musty breeze rushed over them, and sparse drops of water fell from the sky. Each drop hit the stone with a soft pat.

  Matsu moved towards Kami. It was hard to tell if he was being cautious, or just too weak to move quickly. Kami didn’t move. Even as Matsu reached striking distance, she didn’t move.

  Matsu took a deep breath and gritted his teeth. It was easy to see what he was about to do, but it was possible Kami was too dazed to defend herself. Matsu lifted the sword high above his head and screamed. His roar shook Kenji’s chest and stirred a gasp from some of the crowd.

  Matsu cut downward at Kami with the last of his strength. Kami barely moved, but Matsu’s sword struck stone. She’d dodged his attack. In a single stroke, Kami ran the jagged edge of her sword across Matsu’s chest.

  The cut opened up and blood rolled down his torso. It didn’t appear to be deep, but it ran across his entire frame. Matsu was indifferent to the wound. He looked calmer than before. Kenji was sure it was the blood loss. Matsu almost looked content.

  His hands were wrapped around the hilt of his sword, but he now struggled to lift it off the stone. The harder he pulled against the weight of his sword, the faster the blood left his body. It was too heavy.

  He gritted his teeth and pulled on the weapon. Kami took a few steps back and allowed Matsu space to struggle. Matsu’s eyes began to flicker, only clinging to consciousness.

  After a futile attempt to drag the sword towards him, he dropped the blade. Matsu fell to his knees and slumped forward, clutching his chest with his good arm. His shoulders heaved and he took slow, deep breaths.

  Not a single person moved in the entire arena. All eyes were on Matsu. Would he fall?

  His eyes fluttered again, showing only the whites. He lost purchase on his knees and fell forward.

  Matsu landed in a bloody pile, unmoving. After a few painfully slow breaths, the em
peror spoke.

  “Kami is the victor.”

  The crowd’s cheers started much like the building rain. They were unsure of what happened, but a victor was announced. A few lonely claps started the roar of the crowd.

  “Size does not mean skill, little emperor.” Ebusu smiled and stood up.

  The emperor chuckled, and Taijin blushed.

  “Yes, master,” Taijin said.

  Kenji decided to wait for Kami. He had hundreds of questions for her. How did she learn to fight like that? Was she in control of the match the entire time? They raced through his head, competing for dominance.

  “Master, I think I’ll stay to congratulate Kami on her victory.”

  Ebusu cocked an eyebrow at Kenji. They had just left the arena and were about to walk back to the walled portion of Tenno.

  Ebusu didn’t speak, but he didn’t look pleased. Kenji spoke if only to dull the silence.

  “She did the same for me, I’m just trying to be respectful.”

  “Respectful?” Ebusu asked, there was a hint of dry sarcasm in his tone. “You’re going to congratulate the person who just won the opportunity to kill you?”

  “I just thought—”

  Ebusu raised a hand, “Empty mind, Kenji.”

  Ebusu took a deep breath, but there was a hint of a chuckle as he exhaled.

  “It doesn’t have anything with the way she moved?” Ebusu continued before Kenji could answer. “Or her beauty?”

  Kenji’s skin became hot, even under the light rain. He hesitated for a moment, then answered.

  “Of course not, master.” Kenji spoke with a serious look in his eye, but his tone sounded forced.

  Ebusu snorted another chuckle and ran a hand over his head.

  “You can congratulate her, but please remember, you will face her at the end of tournament. That is certain.”

  Kenji concealed his excitement. “Yes, master.”

  The clouds were heavier and darker now, but the rain hadn’t increased from a few random drops. Kenji was thankful for that. He would have looked a little desperate waiting in a downpour.

  After waiting an hour, he saw Kami appear. She had a large cloak wrapped around her like a blanket. Her eyes were focused on the ground below her feet. Her usual enthusiasm hadn’t returned yet.

  “Kami, are you alright?”

  “Oh, hello, Kenji.”

  Kami’s skin was pale, and she grimaced with every step. Something was clearly wrong. Then he noticed her hand dangling at her side.

  “They never set your shoulder?” he asked, amazed.

  “Manzo said masters normally take care of that. I have no master, so . . .”

  Kenji’s anger swelled. It would have only taken a few moments to fix an injury like that. It was common to people who practiced the sword. Why wouldn’t they snap it back?

  “I could fix it, if you want.”

  Kenji spoke without thought. It didn’t matter if they were opponents. It was the right thing to do.

  Kami nodded, and Kenji led her to a nearby tavern. He figured she would want a drink after. It was a painful process. The stood under the entry way, out of the rain.

  “Ready?”

  “Do it.”

  Kenji gripped her elbow with both hands and lifted the arm into the air. She winced every inch it moved, but she didn’t stop him. He twisted and rotated her arm just like he’d seen Ebusu do dozens of times.

  Kami gave a sharp, pained grunt and Kenji felt the satisfying pop of the shoulder falling back into place. After a few deep breaths, Kami gingerly moved her arm back and forth.

  “There you go. It will be a few days before you can move it.”

  Kami rolled her shoulders a few times and a little color returned to her cheeks. Kenji couldn’t help but smile as the mischievous expression returned to her face.

  “Damn, that feels better. I’m buying you a drink.”

  Kenji paused for a moment. The cautious voice in his head screamed at him to exercise restraint. He heard his mind’s plea. He knew there was wisdom in it, but he ignored it.

  Kenji promised himself that when the time came, he would face Kami with the same intensity he fought Yutaka with. He hoped, above all else, that he could defeat Kami without killing her.

  Kenji calmed his swirling mind and forced a smile. “Of course.”

  The tavern was a quiet place. A few lonely patrons sat at tables listening to a musician play in the corner. The music was subtle but pleasant. It was as if the musician was there playing for himself, not the tavern. It reminded Kenji of the taverns back home: simple and warm.

  Kenji was worried about being recognized as champions, but the crowds from the arena had clearly gone to a more popular area to celebrate Kami’s victory. They were served a rice wine so smooth Kenji swore it was the best he’d ever tasted.

  “Congratulations on your victory, Kami,” Kenji toasted.

  “And to yours, Kenji.” Kami smiled, throwing back her entire drink.

  The thought of his fight with Yutaka left a bitter taste in Kenji’s mouth. He still struggled to press the severed arm from his mind’s eye. The weight of Yutaka’s rigid body leaning against him was always present.

  He redirected the conversation. “Where did you learn to fight like that? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Kami nodded. She seemed to know that the question was coming. She signaled the lonely host for another drink and sighed.

  “North Toku was the center of Kaito’s Uprising. Poverty and violence were everywhere. We were constantly under the threat of attack from either the emperor or Kaito. We couldn’t win. I was too young to fight, or I would have been recruited.”

  Kami continued, “Not to mention, anyone with any skill in the sword was forced to fight in Kaito’s army. There were no sword masters to speak of. Sometimes I wish I had a sob story about my master dying in the war, but the truth is I learned to fight because I had to.”

  Kenji winced at Kaito’s name, trying not to let his anger show. Kami didn’t seem to notice.

  Kami shrugged. “How about you, Kenji of Gawa? Why do you fight?”

  “I fight to serve the emperor and wield the Zettai.”

  Kami threw her head back in laughter. “Right.”

  “I’m being serious,” Kenji said.

  “Is that what you want? Or is that just what you think you should want? There is a difference.”

  Before Kenji could respond, the host poured them both fresh drinks. He was thankful for the interruption. He wasn’t sure how to respond to a question like that.

  “You and I are going to have to fight each other at some point. Once tomorrow’s match is done, there will be a free for all between the three victors. If you hesitate like you did with the one-armed bandit, I might have to kill you,” Kami said.

  Kenji looked up from his drink in time to catch a wink from Kami.

  “Why then, do you fight?” she pushed.

  Kenji raised an annoyed eyebrow at her persistence, but her determined expression never wavered.

  After a long, thoughtful sip of rice wine, Kenji spoke.

  “My father was in the empire’s militia; the honor guard, even. He died in the war before I really knew him. Serving the empire helps me feel close to him.”

  Kenji took another drink. He brought the fine porcelain cup to his lips and noticed the hint of a tremor. He’d never spoken of his father to a stranger. He felt exposed, raw. It was as if he’d torn open his robe and revealed his flesh to a vengeful blade.

  “I also want to make Master Ebusu proud. He has trained me well, and a victory here will bring him honor.” Kenji spoke with a quick, casual tone, trying to cover his vulnerability.

  Kami cocked her head to the side and stared into him. Kenji kept his eyes on his drink, painfully aware of how intently he was being watched. A silence stretched between them. The longer it lasted, the more Kenji regretted sharing so much with this stranger.

  Kenji’s patience left him, and after anoth
er sip, he shifted in his seat. He needed to break the silence.

  “So why do you fight?” he asked.

  Kenji’s words broke the trance she’d fallen under. Apparently, she’d lost herself studying Kenji’s insecurities. She blinked a few times and took a drink.

  “Your father, he went away and never came back?” she asked him with a plain, disinterested tone.

  Kenji was taken aback for a moment. He tightened his brow and leaned back.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “A soldier came to your home and told you and your mother that he’d fallen in battle?”

  “Yes, what is—” Kenji was annoyed, almost angry, but Kami held up both her hands in a calming gesture. She let a silence fall between them for a moment to ensure Kenji would be quiet.

  “I fight because my parents never left.”

  The sparkle faded from Kami’s eyes. The grin creeping around the corners of her lips went limp. It was her turn to look down at her drink.

  “My village was the center of a battle. Kaito’s forces were camped to our north, and the empire’s forces were approaching from the south.”

  Kami made gestures in the air between them, pointing out the locations. Her finger settled in the dead center.

  “I was young, but old enough to remember. Several tense days passed. There were lots of meetings. Our village wanted to remain neutral. There were even whispers of peace.”

  Kami shrugged, “I’m not sure what happened, but the empire thought we were harboring rebels, and the rebellion thought we were supplying weapons and information to the empire.”

  Her shoulders sank and she shifted her drink between her hands. She slid it back and forth over the table for a moment.

  “We were crushed. We had no defense, we had no soldiers. When they weren’t killing each other in our streets, they burnt down our homes and slaughtered us.”

  Kami continued, “A man kicked in our door, torch in hand. It was a small hut with only one room. I remember it being tight with all four of us, but it was always happy.”

  Kami shook her head, jarring herself back to the story at hand.