L5r - scroll 06 - The Dragon

by Ree Soesbee

  A shudder shook Daini—one that was not his own. He glanced at Mara, but she was staring at the high parapets of Siksa's arched towers. "Earthquake?" Daini asked.

  "They occur rarely, but they are not unheard of. The Vedic considered them portents of great and terrible events coming to pass." The Vedic were naga priests, the largest and most dangerous—and rarest of the five bloodlines.

  Once more, Daini followed Mara down beneath the boughs and vines of the clustered ceilings, through the twisted ramps of the Asp temple. The palace of the Shahadet was ornate, gilded with gold and silver, but of all the treasures scattered about the mosaic plaza and its massive stone chamber, only one held the samurais attention. He looked to the long stalactite hanging from the vaulted ceiling. It was covered with rope and stains of greenish blood.

  Mara knelt at the bottom of the ramp, pressing her hands together and then touching them to her forehead. She whispered sibilant syllables. This time Daini knew the words, and as he knelt, he intoned them in a smooth baritone.

  "To the Ocean, we are born.

  Forest, Lake, Plain, River, and Mountain.

  In the Earth, we grow as children.

  Greensnake, Asp, Cobra, Constrictor, and Chameleon.

  For the Akasha, we must rise.

  Warrior, Jakla, Vedic, Scout, and King."

  The room was filled with more Asp than the last time, and for a moment, Daini felt a surge of pride that so many had come to see his gempuku. That pride was quickly replace with nervousness when he saw the mocking face of the Balash. The archer lay silent along the wall at the far edge of the pit. He fingered an arrow's sharpened point, ignoring the trickle of blood that seeped from beneath a scaled fingernail. Balash stared hotly at Daini, and his eyes were filled with hate.

  The tremendous alcove in the far wall was filled, its chair covered by the impressive bulk of the commander of the Asp and daimyo of the city.

  Shahadet, Daini corrected himself.

  The throne glittered faintly beneath the massive naga's tremendous tail, and the wall mosaic behind him sparkled with jewels. The starlight from the figure's hands seemed to stretch out across the room, reaching toward infinity. On the ground near the pool lay three objects: a spear of pearl and jade, an unlit torch, and a silver pin as large as a small tanto.

  Mara led him to the center of the room, where the River of the Sky bubbled up into the pool of visions. Around it, a white flame burned just at the water's edge. His hands would pass through that flame as he looked down into the waters. Daini shuddered. He would be burned.

  Mara stepped through an opening where the fire that had not yet been ignited, sinking to her waist in the pool of silvery water. He followed her silently, pausing just within the edge of the pool. The water reached to his shoulders as he knelt.

  "Rise, supplicant," Mara said in the tongue of her people. The sound was sibilant, hissing as much as speech. Though Daini had been taught the words, much of their meaning was still lost to him. He stood as he had been instructed, and also removed his gi and haori vest. Bare-chested, he knelt in the water beneath the long stalactite and crossed his arms over his head.

  Taking a handful of earth from outside the circle, Mara brushed dirt across Daini's forehead. "From the earth, you come. To the earth, you will return."

  Around them, the Asp hissed, and Daini caught a few scattered words. "Huu-man" was among them. So was "blasphemer."

  The Shahadet rested silently in his chair, his eyes dark and shadowed behind firelight.

  Brushing her hands across the knob of the cold torch, she touched her soot-covered fingers to each of Daini's shoulders. "Ash is your soul, burned and broken, unawakened by the Akasha." She touched his hands. "Ash is your heart, unknown by your people."

  She reached into the pool beneath the stalactite and brushed the water over his hair. "The Akasha cools us, and will protect us even as it releases your soul. As your Sehalai, I choose to stand with you. I accept your visions. I join you in your search for truth." Mara stepped back, lighting the torch in the flames of the circle. With one last look into Daini's eyes, she stepped through the breach in the flame. Lifting the pearl spear in one hand and holding the burning brand in the other, she glanced at the Shahadet.

  There was no response. The tremendous Asp did not move, not even to nod acceptance of the ceremony.

  Slowly, Mara lit the circle, closing the open space where they had entered and sealing Daini within.

  The wide basin of water shifted around Daini's body as the underground river seethed. This pocket of water was icy cold, clear and bright and shimmering with light from the mystic flames that encircled it. The fire itself stood half as tall as a man, boiling the edges of the water, just within reach of someone hanging from the stalactite. As the fires grew around him, Daini felt his face turning red. Sweat broke out across his body. Soon, the heat would become intense.

  Another tremor shook the ground. Daini staggered as he rose to his feet. Glaring at the laughing Asps that surrounded the circle, he reached above him to clasp the stalactite. Pulling himself up its wide surface, he swung over the flowing pool of water. Slowly, Daini crawled up the ropes that hung from the pillar of stone. Using the strength of his arms, and blessing the sensei that had forced him to do muscle toning kata five times a day, Daini turned himself upside down onto the ropes that swung from the bottom of the stalactite.

  In a moment, he had tied himself below the stone as he had been taught. The world inverted and swayed, and Daini looked through a circle of flame at the gathered naga.

  "To the Akasha, I return." Daini said the last of the ritual words in their strange language, the hisses stumbling from his lips. As he had been taught, Daini reached down to take water from the pool into his cupped hands. Slowly, watching the Bal-ash's contorted face as he began the Pah'ra, Daini drank the water of the River of the Sky, and waited.

  Nothing happened.

  Another tremor shook the earth and Daini began to sway back and forth from the stalactite. His hands outstretched, touching the flames with his palms, he watched as the circle of fire grew closer with each swing.

  The naga warriors looked around at the walls of the chamber. Dust filtered down from the ceiling as the ground buckled and rose.

  Despite the physical tremors, Daini felt no metaphysical change, no mystic release. No visions swam before his eyes. Blood pooled in his head, and his hands grew hot from the flames.

  A shout rose from the Asp by the ramped doorway. Another tremor shook the stone. Daini could not understand the words—they were spoken too fast, were too unfamiliar—but he understood the tone.

  An alarm sounded in the city, great pealing bells that echoed eerily through the silent forest. Was there a fire? Daini thought blearily, trying to keep his mind on the Pah'ra ritual. Perhaps the tremors had flooded the river?

  One of the Asp near the doorway drew a shining sword from his hip, snarling.

  No, it certainly wasn't a simple fire. Someone screamed outside the chamber's opening. One of the Asp charged up the ramp, and others reached for their weapons. Before the first naga could reach the top, a cluster of arrows pierced his belly and tore the sword from his green-scaled hand. The warrior fell, sliding back down from the doorway with a shriek of pain. Others slid rapidly to his aid.

  A shadow covered the moonlight that had streamed in from the plaza above.

  Men—huu-man warriors—poured down the open ramp. Their shining katana slid through scaled flesh with classic kiop cries. laijutsu blows tore apart bone and sinew without pause, and the Asp fell back, confused by this sudden assault on their most sacred temple.

  "No!" Daini howled from his spinning vantage.

  As the other Asp in the room joined the battle, one of the samurai looked up at the Dragon in the circle of flame. Daini glimpsed a rotted, skeletal face grinning beneath the fine Crab armor.

  The Hida had found him- Crab scouts had followed him into the forest, had found the city, had brought their undead troops.
Daini struggled against the thick ropes, wishing he had brought his sword into the ritual chamber. Undead carved their way through the naga.

  Naga bows and spears were useless in the confines of the spirit chamber. Battered by hordes of lifeless samurai, the Asp fell back around the flames. Only their curved scimitars could turn back the rush of undead.

  One of the Asp raised himself above the others, calling to his companions to form a spear line behind a row of flashing swords.

  Daini screamed, pulling at the confining cords, but the ropes would not come free.

  There was a flash of steel as Balash's sword cut through a samurai's helm. The man fell to his knees before a startled Mara. Clutching the pearl spear, she backed away from the fight. Her face was white, her golden eyes wide and frightened, and she glanced back at Daini through the flames.

  "Mara, free me!" Daini called through the fire. "I know how to fight them! The spear!"

  Shaking her head, Mara screamed over the sounds of battle, "The Pah'ra ...!"

  "Forget the ritual!" he cried. "Your people need me!"

  Rearing up on his massive tail, the Shahadet towered over three of the undead samurai. They charged, but his sweeping spear blows knocked them backward, piercing bone and ruined armor. The Shahadet opened his fanged mouth, roaring in rage. One of the samurai slashed at his tail. The blow was light, but sticky green blood trickled down the naga's scales, turning the green to black.

  The Shahadet struck again, his spear slicing through a samurai's half-rotted face. Yellowish blood oozed from the cut, and one eye disappeared in a mass of bleeding jelly.

  The samurai did not pause, continuing to attack despite its terrible wound. Its katana swung upward, blocked by the spear—and severed the naga's weapon in two.

  Another massive tremor rocked the room, sending Daini spinning crazily above the wide basin. Looking down at the deep waters, he saw the River of the Sky rushing by, deep beneath the small pool, carrying rocks and loose debris far underground. His hands reached out toward the impossibly high flames to either side of the basin. Their nearness burned away the skin on his palms and blackened the hair on his arms. The water rocked and boiled. Daini struggled with the ropes, fighting to free himself.

  The Shahadet reared and leapt on a group of zombies, using his massive bulk to crush their bones and tearing their heads from their bodies with his bare hands. Beside him, Mara poked hesitantly with the pearl spear. The Shadowlands troops clustered through the open doorway of the chamber, flooding down the ramp with cries of mad glee. Above, the city overflowed with the sounds of battle.

  The chamber rocked once more.

  "Mara!" Daini yelled again, but she did not seem to hear.

  Shadowlands madmen grunted in satisfaction as they pulled one of the Asp to the ground. Their hands shredded gobbets of flesh from his still-moving arms, ignoring his screams. They pulled away his green-scaled skin.

  The Shahadet lifted a katana from a fallen zombie, hacking with it like an axe through wood.

  Behind him, Mara raised her hands to her face, covering it and whispering to herself. Her flesh began to twist and change. Her legs merged together, becoming one flesh, sheathed not in leather breeches but in shimmering silver and green scales. While the last remaining Asp warriors fought with all their strength against the horde of undead, Mara's green skin shivered and stretched into a slim naga tail. Her fangs lowered, and the transformation was complete.

  Mara lifted the pearl spear, her face furrowed with concentration. Her hands slid down the jeweled length, and she whispered unfamiliar words in their strange tongue. The spear began to glow with the power of jade, driving back the undead with its pure light.

  "Free me, Mara!" Daini called desperately, feeling the skin on his palms blacken and blister with the fire's heat.

  Only a few of the forty Asp warriors still remained in the pit. The Shahadet stood beside Mara, blood staining his gilded armor. As they fought, overwhelmed by the Shadow-lands army, Mara stepped back toward the circle of flame.

  "Let me fight! The Pah'ra is not as important as your lives!"

  The battle was hard to see beyond the glowing spear and the white-hot circle of fire. Daini could make out only shadowy forms—fighting samurai, spears raised.

  "No, Mirumoto-daini," Mara gestured toward the doorway. "We will fight these things without you. You must finish what you have begun. This is your Pah'ra. If I must, I will die for you, that your people will be saved."

  A flash of memory blurred his vision.

  Daini stood on the field, watching Hitomi die. In his mind, he left her behind, turning away from her tortured screams. She had died for him.

  Another memory...

  Yukihera smiled malevolently. "Give up, Daini. Turn your back. It is what I knew you would do. After all, it is what you do best."

  "If I don't walk away from this, he'll kill me too," Daini heard his own voice whisper, and he remembered the words even as he screamed to take them back.

  Ten knots held him in place above the wide river pool. Only ten knots, and the Asp were dying.

  Nine...

  One last spinning image ...

  A faintly remembered duel between Crab and Dragon—his elder brother speaking earnestly: "You take care of her, little warrior," Satsu's voice broke through the sounds of steel against steel, whispering among the screams of the dying and the hissing of the Asp. "She will need you," Mirumoto Satsu smiled a crooked, charming smile, and then was gone. A pool of blood spread across the green grass, and a young girl screamed.

  At the side of the tournament field, the child-Daini hid his face, placing his back to the duel. Remembering Hitomi's cruel words, Daini screamed again. Do you even remember Satsu's death, Daini? she chided him. It was true. He did not have a memory of Satsu facing the terrible Crab samurai. He could not remember because he was ashamed.

  Six...

  He had not even had the courage to watch his brother die.

  "No," his features fell, twisted in agony of flesh and soul. "I have to help them." His fingers fumbled at the cords of the Pah'ra rope, releasing the knots one by one with desperate fingers. He fought against the ropes, seeking freedom to help the naga, yes, but deep in his soul, Daini realized that he was deeply afraid of something else, something awakening within his heart.

  One Asp fell, and Daini saw a cluster of samurai surround Mara. The first samurai feinted, his sword whistling only inches past Mara's golden hair. She raised her spear for the counter-strike. The second plunged his blade into her breast, shattering bone and cleaving through her torso with a sickening tear.

  Daini closed his eyes, refusing to watch any more. His hands fumbled with the last of the thick rope coils.

  Four knots left... three ...

  He turned away. Satsu. Yukihera. Mara. Hitomi...

  He had always turned away before the fight was finished.

  "Let me go!" He screamed, tears flooding his vision as the naga bushi spilled their blood from open wounds. Their scales tore like fabric. Sickening noises of bone crunching and last gasps for air scalded Daini's ears.

  "Daini . .. no!" Mara cried out as he reached for the last knots. She raised her body from the ground, trying to stand despite the pool of her own blood.

  Another naga grabbed the pearl spear. "He has failed." Curling his lip in disgust, the Balash raised the spear to hurl it through Daini's spinning body. The Asp's hate-filled eyes took in his helpless opponent, ignoring the zombie samurai that carved at the flesh of the naga.

  Two ... only one knot stood between him and freedom____

  "He will not fail!" Mara screamed. Suddenly she was no longer lying on the floor. Her brutalized body vanished; the pool of blood was gone.

  The Balash, his forked tongue hissing in victory, thrust the Sehalai's spear forward to pierce Daini's heart.

  Mara materialized between them, staggering with pain and shock as the pearl spear entered her body instead of Daini's heart.

  The Balash recoiled
in stunned amazement, his hands falling from the spear shaft.

  Mara sank to her knees. Her back arched as she slid to the ground.

  Daini screamed, stretching his arms out through the flames as if he could reach her.

  Suddenly the room spun into focus once more. No dead naga littered the floor. The ground of the chamber was not covered with green blood. The sky through the open doorway was clear and filled with stars, and white flames licked at Daini's hands without burning his flesh.

  Daini took a deep shuddering breath and felt his lungs fill with crisp, cool air. Everything looked different. The chamber shone with colors he could not name; his ears heard echoes of sounds too far away to be recognized. The Akasha had touched his mind, but with it came a sense of terrible loss. He had seen the Eternal Mind, but he had not become one with it.

  Perhaps no human ever could truly become one with the naga. The Pah'ra had carried him into the Great Mind of the Naga and made him a brother, but it had not remained.

  His brush with eternity would stay with him always, but his mind was not one with the Asp. Daini felt as if a great ocean had appeared before him. The Akasha was tremendous; a hundred thousand minds, a million lifetimes all bound together in one collective soul. Perhaps one day he would understand how the naga saw the Akasha, but for now, this small glimpse was enough to change Daini's life forever. He laughed, and he knew that somewhere, his happiness was echoed in thousands of minds all across the Akasha's waves.

  At last, Daini understood.

  The undead assault had been an illusion, conjured by the River of the Sky and the power of the Akasha. The illusion had tested his faithfulness, determining if he would stand by his word and finish what he had started. Only one knot held Daini aloft above the flickering flames and the bowl of blue water—one knot that meant the difference between success and failure.

  Daini grinned in relief, stunned that he had lived through the test. Then, he remembered his savior.

  Mara.

  She knelt with her hand touching the cool stone of the floor. Emerald blood trickled down one slender arm.

  The Balash slid backward with short, choppy movements, his face a mixture of revulsion and horror. His hands left the weapon. Mara reached to take the haft of the pearl and jade spear, her fingers sticky with her own blood. With a tearing pull, she lifted the spearhead from her body, and dropped the ancient weapon to the ground.