by DB King
Ebisu trusted his teacher.
In this world—in all worlds—strength ruled everything.
His own father, whom he loved and adored, was not a strong man. Despite his age, despite everything, Ebisu was not blind to such a simple truth. His father was weak and feeble, easily pushed around and manipulated by mere merchants, who should’ve been trembling in fear and awe at his presence. Instead, his father tolerated the fools and their childish jabs and japes, even laughing at his own expense, like a madman. They pushed him around for years and years, until Jin came along and began offering his advice to father. Gradually, things changed for the better. As Jin’s words slowly settled in his father’s feeble mind, so did the old man’s spine begin to form.
And his teacher was one of the strongest.
When the mists rolled in, however, and the winds blew cold and the skies grew dark and heavy with nebulous gray clouds, his most powerful teacher simply fell onto the ground—unconscious, eyes rolled backward.
Ebisu froze. Every muscle in his body refused to move as his eyes followed Jin’s descent toward the cold, forest floor.
His mind raced. Jin was the most powerful person he’d ever known and he was now on the ground, unconscious, sleeping like a baby. Foul magic lingered in the air, the trace energies of a powerful Magical Beast, who’d just cast something powerfully strong. And yet the embers of magic felt almost unnatural—alien, even. Then again, he’d never encountered a Magical Beast before. It might’ve been perfectly normal and he wouldn’t know.
No… I’ve never met one, but I have felt their presence, Ebisu thought. This one was simply… different.
Ebisu couldn’t understand how something so foul could possibly exist. Not only was its presence disgusting, its smell was no less abominable. A horrid, putrid stench seemed to consume the forest—almost akin to the smell of rotting fish, left to dry under the sun for days and days, covered in maggots and worms. And yet it also smelled akin to smoldering coals and brimstone.
His stomach churned. Bile arose up to his throat, the contents of their early morning breakfast. His mind rang with whispers and dark thoughts, scenes and images of bloody battles and ancient places in the depths of the world—tall, black towers, rising amidst ashes, shadowed by a veil of leaves and tall trees. Ebisu shuddered and absently grasped at his temples as a mind-shattering headache threatened to rip his head apart from the inside.
Despite the pain, however, Ebisu forced himself to move. The child lumbered from one tree to the next, staggering and limping as his vision blurred and his senses cracked beneath the images looming over him. When he fell to his knees, he saw a massive pyramid of black, rising from the deep, engulfing the world in darkness. The sun turned sickly pale, whilst the skies bled crimson and burgundy. The seas roared and crashed as something stirred underneath.
A single eye, hideous and bulbous, like the eye of a squid, but many magnitudes larger, opened in front of him. A titanic shadow loomed behind the eye, an ancient creature, slumbering in the depths of the sea—waiting, watching, dreaming. It bellowed unknowable words of power, each one resonating with a deep and powerful magic that dwarfed Ebisu’s own by thousands upon thousands of leagues. Even his master, Murasaki Jin, who was already far beyond Ebisu, seemed rather tiny in comparison.
What’s going on? What is this feeling? Ebisu grasped at himself, but defiantly stared back at the giant eye. “What are you?”
A cold, rasping voice spoke in his mind, “I am…”
The sunken city shook, its black towers toppling over each other as the seafloor cracked apart and an immense earthquake rocked the world. The hideous, titanic eye glowered and seemed to grow even larger as the voice finished, “I am… the Devourer!”
The black city disappeared, alongside the massive eye. In their place was a brief void, into which everything collapsed. The chanting whispers ceased as a burst of silence overtook it. And then the void itself disappeared, and the woodlands returned in force, carrying with it a powerful burst of energies.
Ebisu’s eyes widened as an immense wave of dark and powerful magic blasted him backward, sending him flying over his teacher’s downed form. He landed on a bed of grass, dazed and confused. His chest rose and fell intensely, as though his teacher had just ordered him to run a thousand laps around Hirata, without stopping for food or water. Sweat poured above his brows and dripped into his eyes ceaselessly. Despite this, however, Ebisu’s muscles had regained their former strength, though pins and needles riddled them and even the slightest movement was incredibly uncomfortable.
The boy pushed himself up, forcing his painful muscles to move. Ebisu gasped for air and leaned against the trunk of a tree. What just happened?
What was that giant thing? Why was there a black city underneath the sea? Ebisu paused. He’d never really seen the sea before, and neither had his father. Hirata was so far away from the coast that it’d take a week’s journey just to reach the first signs of salty waters.
Everything sunk in—the reality of what he’d just seen.
Something bad is coming, he realized.
Ebisu blinked, shook his head, wiped his eyes, and banged his head against the nearest tree. The blurriness faded at last, and his senses returned. The noises of the forest returned with it, the chirping of birds, the shaking and rustling of leaves, the howls and cries of woodland critters, and the faint howls of the distant winds—elements that’d disappeared mere hours ago, when his master pointed out the unnatural silence that permeated the woods. The mists receded as well, slowly retreating back from whence they came, until the forest was cleared of them.
No, he thought. There was something messing with my head. Those were just illusions. That giant eye wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real!
Ebisu froze. Was it a Magical Beast? It had to be. Master said they were strong, but Ebisu never imagined they could be so—
He blinked and realized his teacher was still unconscious. He should be awake—he had to be awake.
“Master!” The boy rushed toward his teacher’s unconscious form. Ebisu knelt beside him, grabbed his shoulders, and tried shaking him awake. Despite the force with which Ebisu shook him, however, Jin wouldn’t awaken. “Master, wake up! We need to get out of here. There’s something following us!”
Jin still didn’t awaken. His teacher had been brought low by something that lingered in the woods.
Ebisu closed his eyes and reached for the strings of magic in the air. His teacher was tangled in them, utterly consumed by a host of powerful energies, converging at his mind, where the roots of the alien magic lay. The strings emanated from far away—almost a mile away from his master, deeper and deeper into the woodlands into the southwest reaches. Ebisu gulped.
It’s a controller-type, he realized.
His teacher had drilled into his head the various types of Magical Beasts and how best to deal with them. The only ones that simply could not be dealt with were the deviants and the controllers, since both types were equally capable of turning a human being into a ‘vegetable’—whatever that meant. In any case, his teacher had warned him to steer clear of such creatures.
Ebisu ducked down and slipped into the bushes, masking his magical aura by compressing his energies deep into his core. The downside of which was that he wouldn’t be able to detect anything. The upside was that nothing could detect him—nothing magical, at least, though his master mentioned it also masked his presence from those that did not care to see him, allowing him to move unseen through thick crowds.
I have to find the controller and put an end to it, he decided. His right hand absently lingered over the handle of the sword on his hip—a well-crafted katana, given to him by his father. The only sure way to end a controller’s magic was to kill it—somehow. His swords-skills were subpar at best, and his stealth abilities were abysmal at worst. Ebisu had to somehow find the controller during a moment of weakness and vulnerability and kill it then and there in a single, decisive stroke. He had to save his master
.
It came from the southwest. Chances were, the Magical Beast came from that place and he’d find it there if he ran toward it as fast as physically possible. His master could outrun a horse. Ebisu wasn’t that fast, but he was faster than most of the other kids. controller-types weren’t known for their physical prowess. He needed to get there before it disappeared.
Pins and needles riddled his muscles. They came alongside painful spasms that rocked his entirety. The pain pushed him to his knees, but Ebisu resisted. His body wanted to lay down and rest on the soft grass, but his teacher needed him. For the first time—ever—he would be the one to save someone. If anything, this would be the greatest test he’d ever received from his master and he could not afford to fail.
Every single thing he’d ever learned from his teacher would finally be truly tested. There was no room for error. There was only victory or death. And Ebisu did not want to die. He could not afford to die. He had too many things to inherit, too many responsibilities to shoulder when he finally came of age. Therefore, the only way for this whole test to end was by his victory. Any other outcome was unwelcome.
I will save my teacher! he resolved.
With that in mind, Ebisu turned toward his master. He grabbed him by his ankles and dragged him toward a tall bush, where his body was obscured by a thicket of leaves and tightly wound twigs. He’d be well-hidden there—at least, until Ebisu returned victorious. His master would be so proud when he dragged that creature’s body and presented it to him as a trophy. There was also something about the harvesting of cores, which his master never really elaborated much on. He’d also have to bond with an infant Magical Beast, but this harvesting thing would have to come first… he guessed.
With the controller’s location still fresh in his mind, Ebisu began the long journey to the southwest of the woodlands. As his master had taught him when moving alone in the deep forests, teeming with Magical Beasts, Ebisu moved across the tops of the trees, jumping from one branch to another, leaping and grabbing as he went. It was the safest way to navigate an otherwise dangerous environment. There were only a few Magical Beasts that were capable of climbing and most of them lingered in the far south. The only thing he really needed to watch out for were the incredibly rare Blood Fiends, who dwelled in the treetops.
Hours and hours passed as Ebisu followed his memories of the trail of magic. Navigation was difficult. Several times he ran across massive beasts with powerful auras, snakes the size of trees, and silvery elks that moved faster than his eyes could possibly follow. He recognized very few of them—only the Earth-Shaker Boar, which his master told him to steer clear of, and an Iron-Shelled Tortoise that lumbered across a flat clearing, its shell glinting in the sunlight.
His master’s words rang clear in his mind: “Remember, Ebisu, Magical Beasts only ever interact with other magical creatures. Most of them would rather ignore a passing human being than show themselves at all, even when that human is encroaching on their territory. So, if you hide your presence from them, most Magical Beasts are unlikely to give a damn about you—but not every Magical Beast is going to ignore you. There are plenty of aggressive species that will kill you regardless. Therefore, you must learn to conceal yourself from their mundane senses all the same. A Werewolf pack, for instance, won’t care about the presence of magic in your body or the lack of it.”
He couldn’t reveal himself—not to anything.
Ebisu journeyed on for another hour, ending with him climbing to the top of an ancient Redwood tree. The forest was utterly massive. There was no possible way he could track down a single Magical Beast without using his magical senses. He knew its signature—the smell and the feel of its aura, that sickly, putrid stench that came with it.
And so Ebisu activated his magical senses for the briefest of moments. His mind turned to his memory of tracking down the source of the web of foul magics that had entangled his master’s mind. The foulness lingered in the air. It was close, but faint—old. Despite this, Ebisu followed it. He reached out with his own magic and brushed against the putrid remnants.
There! His eyes widened as he turned and found a cave on the side of a mountain, where the source of the foul, corruptive energies converged. Wasting no time, Ebisu reined in his magic presence and retreated into himself before rushing toward the mouth of the cave. The creature had to be there.
When he finally reached the entrance to the cave, a wave of foul miasmas rushed over him, like a putrid gale. The stench in the air stunk like rotting fish. The magical energies that lingered were foul and disgusting. The fact that he could perceive it at all was horrible, like dipping into a pool of oil, mud, and grime. But there was also an alien presence behind it all—something that was anathema to the very nature of the world itself. And yet it was magical all the same.
He hated it—everything about him hated it.
He needed to kill this thing as soon as possible.
Finally releasing his grip over his magical energies, Ebisu ventured into the cave.
The ground was dry at first, made of sharp rocks and ancient beds of undisturbed pebbles. There were no footprints or paw-prints on the floor, despite the lack of air and the natural softness of the ground being perfect for preserving such things as tracks. His father had briefly touched on the topic of hunting and tracking down animals for food and sport, but had never really displayed much skill in it and relied more on his lackeys to hunt for him. Still, Ebisu did learn something that day.
And that knowledge was telling him that the cave was either empty or whatever he was tracking was capable of sustained flight, or was staying in the ceiling. It must’ve been crawling on the walls instead of walking on the ground. The creature must be trying to set an ambush—and he was walking right into it.
Ebisu continued onward until he reached a wide open space, filled with dark shadows, hanging down from everywhere. His sight rendered useless, Ebisu activated his magical senses. He felt it. In the middle of the cavern, the creature he was looking for hovered in the air. Its magical presence was foul indeed, alien and hideous and disgusting—but powerful. Ebisu took a single step forward.
“What are you?” he muttered.
Ebisu expected an attack. He expected some form of retaliation from the creature he’d tracked down so fervently. It had attacked first, after all. There was no reason to believe it wasn’t already aware of his presence and was just waiting for the right moment to unleash some kind of magical power. And so his body tensed and he drew his blade from its sheath, ready to strike.
What he received instead, however, was something else entirely. What he’d perceived as moving shadows had been a mass of writhing black tendrils, hundreds of them, floating in the air as though it was water. At the center of the tendrils was a single, massive, lidless eye.
A fragmented, disembodied voice spoke in his mind, “I have no name… Ebisu, son of Arima. I am only the Weaver of dreams and prophecies… or I was…”
The voice was pleading, melancholic, lost, and utterly lonesome.
And it was familiar. He knew this voice—and he knew it well.
Father?
It was his father’s voice, before Jin came along and ran the village for him. It was his father’s voice in the days when he would consume far too much rice wine and mumble off about his lost dreams and past glories. It was the voice of someone whose world had crumbled and died, and everything that had once mattered to them simply no longer did.
With a sigh, Ebisu lowered his blade. His master surely would have already hit him over the head for daring to lower his guard in front of an enemy, but Ebisu was simply no longer certain if this creature was an enemy at all. Though its presence was hideous and horrifying, its voice told a different story—one of loss and pain and grief. It might have been mimicking his father’s voice, but the truth shone through: the creature was lost, and utterly alone.
It could have chosen to attack him at any time, right? And yet it chose not to. It could have chosen to dest
roy his mind and put him to sleep as it could have done to his master and yet it didn’t. It could’ve stayed and continued its assault, attacked him as well, but it didn’t.
The fact that its voice sounded so much like his father’s broken voice wasn’t helping his better judgement.
At the very least, Ebisu wanted to know why it had attacked them—why it had attacked his master. He wanted answers. No, he needed answers.
“Why did you put my master to sleep?” Ebisu asked. “And what kind of Magical Beast are you? Don’t even try to lie, because I swear I’ll… I’ll kill you!”
Chapter 6
“There is still time, Ebisu.” The creature seemed to plead with him. Its tone was almost desperate, like a farmer asking his father for help or a hungry beggar in the streets. This Magical Beast wasn’t making any sense at all. The fact that it was communicating with him and not actively trying to warp his perception of the world, as controller-types are supposedly fond of doing, confused Ebisu. When his master spoke of these creatures, he spoke of them as though they were simple-minded beasts that were to be tamed or harvested—resources to be used and thrown away.
Sure, some were stronger and deadlier than others, some were cunning and intelligent, but they were all beasts in the end.
And yet this creature wasn’t acting like a wild beast that needed to be put down. It was talking—actually communicating with him, like people were supposed to do. This creature… was a person?
“There’s still time for what?” The boy cast a stern look. He wasn’t a fan of riddles and confusing words. He hated them, in fact. “If you want to tell me something, just say it.”
“You saw it—that creature in the depths of the world,” the Magical Beast answered. Its tendrils, slithering in the air, writhed and twisted about as its single, massive eye seemed to darken further. When it spoke, its voice seemed to twist the air itself. “It will awaken soon. You must prepare yourself, boy. Fate has decreed your presence in the grand scheme to come.”