World's Edge

by Ryan Kirk

  With one last oath of vengeance, Akira turned and went to his horse. He knew that as a symbol he was more important than an entire army, but he couldn't help but feel like he was a coward who only sent other men to die for him.

  Akira cursed one final time as they rode off quickly back to the east, away from his first real defeat.

  Chapter 10

  Moriko eyed her opponents warily. The four of them were charging down, unleashing arrow after arrow. Her sense allowed her to sidestep them with little difficulty, but as they got closer it became more and more challenging. She had hoped they might run out of arrows, but when she got a closer view of their quivers, she realized she'd run out of luck long before they ran out of arrows.

  Moriko kept moving from side to side, allowing arrows to pass by her harmlessly. She focused on calming her breathing and expanding her sense. She had never fought opponents on horseback before. Ryuu had taught her how, but being taught and living through the experience were very different tasks.

  She thought they would charge her down, but she was wrong. Once they reached a certain distance, about forty paces away, they split off from their straight line, trotting in a circle around her. They weren't at full gallop, but they were moving quickly enough it made them hard to track.

  It took Moriko a moment to figure out what they were planning. They had seen her sword, and instead of giving her a chance to defend herself, they were going to ride circles around her, shooting at her until she fell. They had no intention of giving her a fair fight.

  Moriko cursed. She could dodge arrows or deflect them with her sword, but her luck was bound to run out sooner or later. She'd get tired and make a mistake, it was only a matter of time.

  Moriko had throwing knives hidden in her outfit, easily accessible with a quick flick of her wrist, but she'd need them to get at least ten paces closer. Her aim was uncertain beyond thirty paces.

  The archers and Moriko began an intricate and deadly dance. The archers rode around, firing at her, almost nonchalantly, while Moriko dodged and spun out of the way of arrows. She didn't draw her sword, hoping for a chance to unleash a throwing knife. She was able to sense the arrows launched behind her, but it was getting more challenging to stay unharmed.

  The riders changed their pattern, making the circle more of an oval, shooting at her when they were closest to her and drawing another arrow as they pulled away. Moriko was getting less and less time to dodge, and she was grazed by at least two arrows. The ground around her was littered with missed shots. Moriko could tell the riders were getting frustrated at not being able to hit her, but their discipline held.

  The moment came without warning. One of the riders, furious at being unable to hit her, rode in too close. Moriko figured he was less than twenty paces away. She drew a throwing knife, aimed, and threw. Her aim was true enough. She had been trying to strike him in the head, but the shot went low, cutting into the soldier's neck. He fell from his horse with a look of surprise on his face. His horse stood there, wondering what to do next.

  Moriko leapt towards the riderless horse. She had a few options. She could grab the horse and try to escape, but her experience indicated she'd just be run down again. Instead, she went for the bow of the fallen soldier. She wasn't trained in archery, but she figured she could figure out how to nock an arrow and fire it in the general direction of a rider. If nothing else it might scare them off a bit. She dodged two arrows as they tried to bring her down from behind.

  One rider yelled in a language Moriko didn't understand. She didn't know what he was saying, but she figured he'd realized what she was doing. He charged towards her.

  Moriko glanced back as the horse was coming down on her. She had a knife in hand, but the horse blocked her view of the rider and she didn't think she'd have any chance of bringing down the horse itself with a knife. She sheathed it, running desperately for the bow only paces in front of her. Her sense screamed, letting her know she wouldn't make it.

  Instinct and training took over. The rider was trying to ride her down by placing her on his right side, the side of his sword hand. At the last moment she leapt to the left, putting herself on the other side of the horse. She drew her blade and cut, slicing through horse and man alike. They both screamed and collapsed in one large pile on the ground. Moriko heard bones break under the force of the impact.

  The final two riders veered from their own charges, deciding they had taken enough losses. They rode off until they were sitting about sixty paces away. Moriko could hear them discussing the situation, but without understanding the language she had no idea what they were saying. She waited, patient and alert. From this range there was no way they could harm her.

  They didn't seem to share the same opinion. She saw them take an arrow each and dip it in a small sack hanging down the side of their horses. She wondered if they were going to use her for target practice. It seemed like a waste of good arrows. They had to realize they had no chance from where they sat. They each pulled their arrows back and Moriko realized too late what they were doing.

  Moriko watched helplessly as they fired both their shots into the air. She took one last forlorn glance at the surviving horse, the horse of the rider she'd killed with the throwing knife. She wanted to run and save it, but there wasn't time. Both arrows struck in the horse's side and it collapsed to the ground. Moriko assumed they'd dipped the arrows in some sort of poison. With their final shot, the riders rode off, leaving her alone in the vast expanse of prairie.

  Three horses and two bodies surrounded her. She cursed. Without a horse, she had no idea how she would survive. She was a long ways from the Three Kingdoms, and given the meager amount of game she'd killed on the way down, she wasn't sure she'd be able to kill enough to get back.

  There was only one choice to make, and Moriko didn't like it. She had to keep heading south, hoping she'd find the Azarians before her supplies ran out. It was either that or die in this endless grassland.

  Despair was starting to set in. Moriko had been walking south for almost another half-moon, and she had seen and sensed nothing but the occasional patrol. Whenever she encountered one she would sit in the tall grass and suppress her presence. She suspected word of her battle with the Azarians would have spread, and she had no desire to dodge arrows while Azarians used her for target practice.

  Moriko didn’t understand. The Azarians were a nation of people, but she couldn’t find them. How could you not find a whole nation? There were more deserted areas of the Southern Kingdom, but still one would cross farmsteads. The only sign people even lived on this land was the tracks and trails which crossed the ground. If not for the tracks and the occasional scouting party, Moriko would have had no problem believing the land was hers alone.

  Part of the answer had to be the size of the land. Azaria had to be much larger than the Southern Kingdom. Perhaps it was even larger than the entire Three Kingdoms. Moriko had never experienced a land so vast and untamed.

  It was late morning when the mirage first appeared. At first glance it appeared to be a city, or a near approximation of a city. To Moriko’s tired eyes it seemed like small mounds were rising from the ground, but in far too orderly a fashion to be natural. She paused and threw out her sense, but she felt nothing. She knew she was a long way away yet, but if it was a city, it should throw off enough energy for her to sense it. The lack of energy emanating from the mounds convinced her it was just a mirage. She glanced suspiciously at the sun. It was at the right angle to cause the sight to appear.

  Regardless, the mounds were in line with the path she was following, so as the morning wore on she continued to approach them. She watched them constantly, and as the sun reached its midpoint, the mounds stopped shimmering and became solid.

  Moriko panicked, ducking into the long grass. If it was a city, she would have been in sight for most of the day. Guards would be well aware of her presence by now. She sat still and calmed her mind, but still she sensed nothing from the city.

  M
oriko was scared. There were two possibilities she could think of. Either every person in the city knew how to suppress their presence or the city itself was empty. Moriko didn’t want to consider either of them as realities. She lifted her head cautiously above the grass, scanning for signs of life, signs of movement. Gaining confidence, she sat and watched, but no matter how long she stared, her eyes couldn’t make out any movement.

  She loosened her sword from its sheath and moved forward. It seemed to be an empty city, but that made no sense. Perhaps it was a trap to lure in scouts like herself.

  As she approached the city its size grew. The city was made of dozens upon dozens of single-story buildings. Some of them were large, but the city itself was expansive. Moriko knew she could wander the city for more than a day and not be able to explore every building.

  But even with her sense extended as far as she could push it she couldn’t sense a single human life. When she finally reached the first buildings, she was convinced the city was completely abandoned. She paused to examine the buildings. They were made from the long grass of the plains, woven together in a particular pattern she couldn’t hope to imitate. She tested the walls. They were solid, and they would hold up against casual sword strikes. The roof was made using the same techniques. The building would provide reliable shelter. There was no reason to abandon it.

  She stepped inside the first building, sword ready to jump out of its sheath. It was barren. Clean. Spotless.

  There was evidence of life. There was a fire circle with dead coals within it. But there wasn’t any sign of recent habitation, or any evidence to suggest the occupants had to leave in a hurry. The dirt floor was swept clean and there wasn’t a pot, pan, or utensil anywhere to be found.

  With a growing sense of unease, Moriko examined a few of the other buildings. Every one was identically barren. Some of the buildings were larger than others and seemed built to be common rooms, but they, too, were meticulously cleaned.

  Moriko wandered aimlessly through the city, following a path that generally led south. The buildings were evenly spaced, but the city’s design didn’t follow the square patterns more traditional in the Three Kingdoms. There wasn’t any main street, just a number of smaller paths wandering between the buildings. Moriko thought it would be easier to march an army around the city than try to get one through it.

  Halfway through the city, Moriko was starting to question her sanity. Perhaps she had been out on the plains too long. Perhaps this was some sort of dream she couldn’t wake up from. A half-moon of barren plain followed by an empty city? Her mind couldn’t comprehend what was happening, and she was beginning to fear what she didn’t know. She had hoped there would be supplies, but every place she tried was as barren as the last. Her supplies were running low, and she worried she would die in this empty sea of grass.

  When she reached the end of the city, her mind was reeling. No one. The city was as empty as the prairie that surrounded it. She found the trail heading south again easily enough. But she hesitated to take the first steps. She glanced longingly back to the north.

  Moriko missed the Southern Kingdom. She ached for Ryuu’s embrace and constant attention. She wanted to be back among the old woods, basking in the shade of trees that made human lifespans pale in comparison, dipping her feet in the cool stream that ran near the hut. But there was no way back, not now. The only way was forward. With an exceptional effort, she turned back to the south and scanned the ground in front of her.

  She didn’t camp the night in the city. She wandered south until it was shimmering in the sunset. Only then did she feel comfortable lying down for the night.

  Moriko awoke the next morning to the light pressure of another on her sense. It was a delicate brush of sensation, one she doubted when she first felt it. It had been so long since she had sensed another human, she almost doubted her abilities. But the sensation was there, constant, coming closer.

  Moriko’s first reaction was to go back to sleep. She was laying in the tall grass and there was no way anyone could discover her. They would have to ride or walk within five paces of her to see her, and even then would only find her if they happened to look down. There were plenty of horrible things one could say about the prairie, but it was easy to hide in.

  But then she sensed something she hadn’t encountered since the day she left Ryuu. She felt the tendrils of the sense spreading out from the person. Down here in Azaria that could only mean one thing. There was a hunter out there.

  Once the realization struck, Moriko came fully awake. She focused her sense and scanned the area all around her. As far as she could sense, she was alone with the hunter. It was both a relief and a terror. If not for Ryuu, the last hunter she had encountered would have killed her. One was dangerous enough. Moriko suppressed her presence, preparing to ambush the hunter. He was still dozens of paces away and Moriko was certain he hadn’t found her yet.

  Then Moriko rethought her strategy. She was out in the middle of nowhere. She hadn’t seen a living soul for days, even though she had passed through a city. Her food was running dangerously low, and she had no idea which direction she should be heading. If she could get captured, it would solve a lot of her problems. It was a strategy that carried a fair amount of risk. There was no guarantee the hunter wouldn’t just try to kill her. But she was becoming more and more certain she wouldn’t survive in this land without help.

  Moriko found a pose that allowed her to draw her sword in case of emergency, but she lay back down in the grass and pretended to be sleeping. As the hunter continued to approach her location, Moriko gradually opened up her presence. After cycles of practice, suppressing her energy had become almost as natural as breathing. Letting go of the ability was like throwing off a cloak in the biting wind. She felt bare and exposed.

  As she had expected, the hunter turned towards her energy. Moriko fought off the urge to tense her body in preparation for combat. He had to think she was asleep.

  Each breath passed with agonizing slowness. The hunter was nothing if not patient, and he must have suspected a trap. He got to within a few paces of her and then waited, his own sense expanding around them both, searching for anything he might have missed. Moriko forced herself to stillness, staying deep within herself. The hunter drew his sword and Moriko almost lost control. She wanted to get up, wanted to fight. But she lay there, open to attack. Her mind ran in a circle, wondering if he would go straight for a killing blow or would try to capture her. His posture gave no indication, and Moriko suspected the hunter was trying to make the same decision. She forced herself to breathe normally, wondering if she would be fast enough if he decided to strike.

  When he made his move, it was smooth and controlled. Moriko opened her eyes to the touch of his steel on her neck. She suppressed the urge to laugh. He had taken the bait. She would live to fight another day. She stood up, her arms raised in a gesture of surrender as he took her blade from her. It made her feel even more naked than before, but there was nothing to do about it. As he stepped back she got her first good look at him.

  He was a tall man, much thinner than the two men who had attacked her and Ryuu at their cabin. He had a lean musculature indicating plenty of strength, but not an ounce of fat on him. His hair was dark, long, and disheveled, as were his clothes. But Moriko didn’t have the discipline to pay attention to the details. She only saw two characteristics. He was missing his right arm, and his left held a sword identical to the one that had almost taken her life two moons ago.

  The hunter continued to search her, finding the throwing knives she had on her forearms. He searched through her sack, finding nothing of interest. Moriko was grateful his search wasn’t too thorough. She had several blades strapped to her inner thighs as well. Content, the hunter stepped back and looked at her.

  “You are my prisoner.”

  There was something off, something clawing at her attention she couldn’t put her finger on. When it came to her, she felt foolish for not having recognized it
earlier. “You speak our language.”

  “We all do.”

  Moriko’s mind reeled. There were maybe only a few people in all the Three Kingdoms who spoke Azarian. How was it they all spoke the language of the Three Kingdoms? Her mind tried to find answers, but the hunter kept pressing the conversation forward.

  “You are my prisoner.”

  Moriko nodded. “Yes.”

  “Do you promise not to try to escape? Do I have your word?”

  Moriko frowned. It seemed like an odd question to ask. She promised she wouldn’t try to escape. Her thoughts flashed to Ryuu for a moment. Knowing him, he’d actually follow through on his promise. But they were only words. She only planned on holding to them as long as they served her.

  “Good. Let’s go.”

  As far as captive experiences went, Moriko figured it could be a lot worse. The hunter made no attempt to bind her arms or legs. He just led the way and expected for her to follow. Moriko shrugged and followed his lead, a prisoner in a land far, far away from home.

  Chapter 11

  The island grew larger and larger. Ryuu was amazed by the size of it. When he had listened to Shigeru’s story, he had pictured a smaller island. He had thought it must be small to hide from the ships that traveled these waters. There weren’t many who dared the open seas, even in summer, but there were enough that Ryuu had assumed the only way the island could stay undiscovered by the Three Kingdoms was due to its small size. He realized the error of his assumption. The island was safe for two reasons. First, it was far to the north of the Three Kingdoms. They’d been sailing for over a day, and from what Ryuu understood, few traders traveled north from port. Most went east or west. Second was the geography of the island. Ryuu was stunned by the sheer height of the place. It rose, a single sheer plateau in the middle of the ocean.