Ryojin- the Bonded Blade

by Noah Ward

  “Mei certainly did best you fairly easily, not to mention Saito’s other comrades. It seems that ryojin pulled you out of a few fires. I can’t wait to meet her.” Asami flicked her hand. “Why don’t you go and stand over there for a little while. We don’t have much time left.”

  The kamen complied though his face fought against his body every step of the way. He awkwardly stood beside Mei, his eyes flicking to the woman, no doubt hoping to get through to her.

  Asami simply smirked. Where once only humans were susceptible to her ability, now even those who were sworn bowed to her all the same. She did not even have to draw blood! She could not wait to test it upon larger numbers. The sooner order was restored, the better.

  As she began to wander past them, the chamber rumbled, as if shaken by a giant. She almost lost her footing for a moment. Asami frowned and regarded the dust falling from the ceiling. It seemed the ur-krystallis was not fond of being taken from its home. While it would be a shame to leave the temple in disarray, she could easily send excavators to retrieve it later.

  As if hearing her thoughts, several large stalagmites of krystallis above her fractured and spilled into the cavern beside the bridge. Where was that damn ryojin? Tracking her down would be tedious and was something she did not have the time or patience for.

  On cue, a figure came dashing down the stairs and veered towards Asami. The ryojin ate up the ground, seemingly unaffected by her injuries. Her healing ability seemed quite useful; perhaps, she would have made an interesting subject all that time ago.

  The ryojin named Kaz--she remembered from Gin’s memories--had her blade unsheathed. She ignored the statue-like people as she was dashing across the bridge, sword raised in the hopes of carving Asami in twain. The woman held her ground. Waited. Kaz was mere steps away.

  “Stop,” said Asami as Kaz’s blade descended.

  The ryojin froze, indignation in her eyes.

  Another sonorous rumble made the chamber shiver. Hunks of krystallis fell. Fissures appeared along the ground and the bridge.

  “Unfortunately, I will have to leave you all behind. Don’t worry, when the excavators uncover this place, I will ensure they provide you all with a proper burial.” Asami focused on Saito and bowed deeply. “Farewell, Saito. At least you had the chance to meet your daughter. It is a shame she will not grow old in a better world.”

  Asami turned her back and wandered to the krystallis chamber. There was a passage at the back, leading towards the surface, providing her with a more inconspicuous exit. While she was able to control both humans and sworn now, she could not force an arrow or bullet to bend to her will. Soon, that would cease to be a problem, but who knew who else watched the kamen or the others.

  The chamber continued protesting, and it was evident that soon it would collapse. Asami skirted the pedestal that had once cradled the ur-krystallis and headed toward an opening where two beams of cracked onyx krystallis crossed like blades. A rough set of dusty stairs led upwards, and the chill breeze filtering through the passageway indicated it led to the surface.

  In her head, Asami began cycling through her plans. As much as she would have liked to control Zenitia right away, it was much simpler to organise some kind of rebellion to direct Retusdan’s attention, then simply meet with him, announce Saito’s betrayal, before controlling them.

  How much easier would this all have been if she had simply wrested his mind right from the start? Drawing blood from the man was easier said than done, however. And it was never just one man who held a country in its grasp. Now was the start of a new chapter in this country’s history not written in blood and battle.

  The steps transported her to a surprisingly peaceful outcropping of rock to the rear of the mountain range. Shaped like an arrowhead, a single snow-dusted sakura tree was perched on the edge of the platform. Behind her, barely visible in the rock face, was a serviceable yet treacherous set of stairs to Daikameda that she swore had never been there before.

  Anyway, it did not matter. Soon she would--

  Asami’s heart leapt into her throat. She spun and snatched the short blade from within the left sleeve of her voluminous robe. Steel clashed on steel. She’d barely had time to deflect the blow. Her evasion had put her off balance. Asami rolled backwards and sprung into a defensive stance.

  She knew one of them would have requested aid…

  Asami’s eyes sharpened. “You…”

  58

  Ryojin

  Gin had vanished into the shadows, but Kaz had no intention of letting him confront whatever was down there alone--not when he could very well hold Shay’s life in the balance. Not to mention that the kamen’s track record for confronting Saito’s sworn was shit at best.

  While she had allowed him a little time to enact whatever plan he had in mind, the nagging sensation in her gut demanded action. Kaz kept one hand on her sheathed sword as she skipped over the bodies strewn across the temple floor and took the dim steps two at a time. From within the depths of the area below, she picked out faint voices, though they did not sound particularly distressed. Unfortunately, that only fueled her trepidation.

  She had no plan to confront Saito or the others, did not honestly know if she could defeat them. But now was not the time for hesitation.

  A fierce rumble, like an escaping growl, swept up the stairs, and Kaz nearly lost her footing. Dust sprinkled on her head from the low ceiling; in the distance, it sounded like slabs of stone came crashing to the ground.

  Onward she ran, pausing just before entering the chamber.

  She froze. The black krystallis--more than she ever believed imaginable. Pieces as large as building supports. One could buy Zenitia with such a haul. And all she wanted was a fragment.

  The irony of it all was not lost on her. If only she’d helped the girl from the start…

  But it would never be hers if she did not deal with what was occuring a short distance away. On the bridge, Gin had his blade to Asami’s throat. Shay was there, along with a woman--Mei--, and, her heart leapt again, Saito.

  The man did not appear as the fearsome monster she had imagined over the years. He was battered and broken, shoulders slumped. It was if a spell had been lifted. Saito was simply a man; a powerful, sworn man, but one nonetheless.

  In truth, Asami was the one to be feared. Despite Gin appearing to have the upperhand, she knew that was not the case. But how could Asami control a person without drawing blood? And control those who were sworn? Now she had both humans and sworn in her hands...

  Kaz swallowed, gripped her blade tighter. The answer was obvious: Shizanagi’s ur-krystallis. This was no temple to Mudan. It was a ruse to cover its true purpose.

  Gin’s hand shot outwards, shifting his tanto away from Asami’s neck. Moments later he had walked to join the others as another deafening shudder ran through the chamber.

  Don’t just stand there, Kaz.

  An opportunity for subterfuge did not present itself. She had to attack head on, consequences be damned.

  Kaz bolted from the stairs and made a beeline towards Asami. She drew her weapon in a flash of steel, held it aloft, ready to strike.

  “Stop!” Asami ordered.

  Kaz complied.

  The woman rattled off her weak apologies before leaving them all to perish. Kaz’s eyes flicked to the others and widened at the dagger protruding from Saito’s chest. The man was broken and betrayed. For just a moment, a slither of empathy managed to worm its way to the surface. Shay’s look of confusion and despair had triggered it. The girl had suffered more than Kaz, and at such a young age. In the end, Shay had been braver than her, had never let her resolve break.

  Now it was Kaz’s turn to do the same.

  She let her arms rest by her sides.

  “Wait--how’d you do that?” Gin said. He could only move his eyes and mouth. It was a shame about the latter.

  “Can you move?” she asked him. Mei and Saito appeared unresponsive, though Shay piped up.

 
“I can’t,” said the girl, on the verge of tears.

  “Neither can I,” said Gin. “She just...Why can you move.?”

  Another spasm shook the chamber, dislodging more rock, shattering krystallis, and widening the fissures in the ground.

  “I can take you out of here,” Kaz said, though she was not looking forward to that prospect.

  “No,” snapped Gin. “You can’t let her escape! Not with the ur-krystallis and not with that power!”

  Kaz couldn’t help frowning at his self-sacrifice.

  “Yes, I care about more than myself,” he said, catching her surprise.

  “So you expect me to let you die here? Shay too?”

  “What? No. I expect you to stop Asami and break her hold before she escapes. I can still care about myself and others, too.”

  Kaz fidgeted with the grip of her weapon and surveyed the chamber. It looked sturdy enough, but she could not say how long that would last. What he said did have truth to it. That woman could not flee with the ur-krystallis. However, when she looked at Shay’s pleading face, she nearly lost her resolve.

  “It’ll be fine, Shay,” said Kaz. “I’ll stop her.”

  Shay’s lip quivered and her eyes watered, but she nodded.

  “Go!” Gin snapped.

  Cursing under her breath, Kaz dashed from the bridge to follow Asami. She headed deeper into the chamber to find a set of stairs leading to places unknown. As she pressed on higher, she did not know if she were strong enough to defeat Asami.

  You have no choice but to succeed, Kaz. You owe them that much.

  Emerging into the dark of night, blizzard swirling angrily above, she saw Asami’s exposed back. Kaz drew her blade and struck.

  But the woman had ability far beyond the supernatural. Asami spun and deflected the attack, though not without being forced into a roll before she righted herself.

  “You,” she spat, her face drawn in confusion. She held out her hand again. “I instructed you to stop.”

  Kaz leapt forwards in another attack. Asami balked but countered, drawing another concealed blade from her robes after deflecting the ryojin’s probing strike. This battle needed to be over with quickly.

  Drawing her other, smaller sword, Kaz strafed forwards to meet Asami. She led with a faint to the woman’s midsection with her wakizashi. Asami ignored the thrust and drove both of her thin blades towards Kaz’s chest. Kaz bent backwards and parried the attack with a sweeping cut before falling to one knee and slashing Asami across the stomach. Unfortunately, she only succeeded in shearing her robes.

  Asami spat and backed off once again. She shucked off her cumbersome robes to reveal a tight layer of crimson leather armour. Free from her confines, she waged the attack this time. Asami came on quickly and slipped through Kaz’s overhead strike. Her thinner, shorter weapons darted in and out--Kaz jerked her head to the side, shifted her hips to evade a gut stab--but with her recent injuries protesting, she was sluggish. One of Asami’s blades broke through her defences and scored a deep hit across her chest.

  Kaz grunted; it was her turn to put some distance between them.

  Asami’s eyes widened. “Humans...and sworn...but not those in between.”

  Kaz glanced down and understood how the woman had arrived at that conclusion. Her armour had been torn open enough to reveal the onyx krystallis set where her heart had once been.

  Asami smirked. “You were one of mine…” Her brow creased as the woman tried to place her.

  A new torrent of rage welled within her. Why did they all regard her as a stranger and object of vengeance at the same time? “I was no one’s,” spat Kaz. “I fought beside you all for winters! At Wasahashi, Sashima, Oss, Tsuragi--”

  “At Saigo’s Pass,” Asami said, eyes widening. Shock dropped her guard.

  Kaz forced herself to attack, but found she could not. There was something glimmering behind the woman’s gaze, an answer Kaz did not know she needed. Saigo’s Pass: the final flourish of Zenitia’s crippled forces that ended the war with a bloody bang.

  “Ayane Kazumi, the One-Armed Guillotine,” said Asami. She kept her distance and continued circling slowly. “And you are not her. She died close to the end of our war.” Her face was a blank slate. “But her spirit lived on in many thanks to me. She was the first. My first.” Asami shook her head. “Now it all makes sense. It was how I discovered how to make those...husks. Once Retsudan knew of it, he forced me to create dozens more...You were a mistake, Kazumi. You should have stayed dead. You could not be conditioned like the rest. I tried but...your mind...” She fluttered her fingers.

  Kaz loosed a feral growl and attacked. Her fury-born strikes and slashes were erratic and dangerous, leaving her open for the counter. What was this woman insinuating? Why did it feel like part of her mind was fracturing?

  She swept her leg along the ground. Asami dodged and then anticipated Kaz’s follow up series of windmilling vertical flourishes. The woman skirted to the side and scored a deep cut along Kaz’s cheek before thrusting her other blade into the woman’s thigh.

  Kaz screamed and floundered off to the side, coming too close to the edge of the cliff for her addled mind to like. Breadcrumbs of blood marked her stumbling journey. Searing pain forced her to favour her left leg.

  “You’re a fading memory, Kazumi,” said Asami.

  “Enough!” Kaz screamed.

  “My Kazurhia did not die in battle. A wound became toxic and festered, and there was nothing I could do to save her life. She was a servant of Shizanagi, just like me. I could help her live on in other ways.” Asami crept closer as Kaz slowly backed off, feeling like a cornered animal. “Shizanagi’s krystallis was rare but I was familiar with it. I could bind her skills, some memories, but not...her. All the krystallis needed were hosts. It was once my greatest creation.” She sneered. “Though most did not agree with it. Retsudan soon saw how effective it was.”

  What the woman was saying made no sense. Kaz was just Kaz, wasn’t she? She recalled the battles, the tumultuous emotions Saito’s sworn fostered. But before that? What made a life? What was that?

  Hazy, fractured at best. She was Zenitian, she was sure. Was there a place she called home? Parents? A life before fighting? Before those ten winters?

  As Kaz’s eyes cleared, she focused on the blade descending towards her. Instinct saved it from slashing open her neck, but her wakizashi flew from her grip and Asami’s other sword carved a line of fire across her forearm. She booted Kaz in the gut and sent her flying into the stiff tree trunk with a thud that shook the petals from its leaves.

  “You are a copy of a shadow, some poor wretch dragged out from a village in this wasteland to become something more,” Asami proclaimed. “While the others died in a field, you somehow survived--or more likely fled.” She rolled her shoulders. “But the krystallis was not meant to last forever and you are at the end of its limits. You were, however, very close.”

  Kaz gritted her teeth and ground her back against the tree to haul herself to stand.

  A copy...some muddied reflection of a person? That’s all she was? Everything...was a lie? Her throat was tight, mouth dry. Kaz’s eyes burned with unshed tears.

  “But, perhaps, there is still something of the old Kazumi in you, do you not think?” said Asami. “You fight like her. Maybe there is more of the woman I knew in there.”

  Kaz stared into the woman’s eyes and saw sincerity. The loss of blood could have made her delirious, however.

  “Saito believed he could buy an army through this krystallis. I can simply control them all and finally rid this country of its insufferable need for conflict.”

  “That is...no life,” Kaz spat.

  “Constant war and unrest is better? I’ve seen enough for several lifetimes and know that answer. Try to see it for the mercy that it is, Kazumi.”

  Peace through complete subjugation, abandonment of thought, of being. Asami may erase greed and hate and pain, but so, too, would joy, happiness...love. That was no
way to be. After all Shay had endured, she deserved happiness, not to live her life as a puppet.

  Kaz sluggishly levered herself off the tree and clutched her sword.

  “That is your answer, then, Kazumi?” said Asami.

  “Kaz,” she replied, spitting blood.

  The ryojin burst forward, her dwindling strength propelling her onward like a drunk. There was no way she would survive, Kaz knew that. But it was not the point.

  Asami’s twin blades rose above Kaz’s low thrust and embedded themselves into both her sides, piercing her lungs and organs. White hot pain stole Kaz’s breath and choked the scream attempting to boil out of her raw throat. Her hands, too weak to hold her katana, fell to her sides. Her knees buckled and she dropped to her knees in the snow.

  “I see…” said Asami, who towered above her. “Stubborn…Just like Kaz.”

  Asami collapsed in the snow in front of her; Kaz’s katana protruded from her stomach. Through glassy eyes, Kaz watched Asami’s mouth work like a fish gasping for air before finally stilling.

  Snow fell.

  The onyx krystallis in Kaz’s chest was slowly cracking in a dozen places. Fine shards broke away and joined the snowflakes floating to the earth.

  It was done, and Kaz breathed her last.

  59

  Just My Luck

  Shay stood frozen, watching more and more chunks of krystallis shatter and break. Lumps crashed to the earth, spitting up plumes of moist dirt or descending with an echoing crash into the abyss at either side of the bridge she was stuck on. Sooner or later, the fist-sized clumps would find her skull; several had already fallen perilously close already.

  What made it worse was that she had to suffer and stare at the inert face of her father, dagger still jutting out of his chest despite his blank countenance. If she could just move, she could help him. But no matter how much she strained, Asami’s mental chains that had lashed her to the spot were unbreakable.