by Mark Swaine
“Yes my Emperor,” replies the General.
“Take the wizard warrior with you, and kindly remind him of the law that prohibits the use of magic under my rule,” adds the Emperor looking disapprovingly at Liu Chan.
“Yes Master,” replies the General, commanding Liu Chan to his feet.
“Ministers Tao and Shi,” says Yu-Huang, addressing the Priests.
“My Emperor, I assumed…” grovels Ning Tao.
“You assume much in my stead Minister Tao,” says the Emperor in a friendly manner.
Wei Shi calmly makes his presence known as he attempts to rescue his counterpart from an unsalvageable situation whilst attempting to make himself look the ‘better man’ in the process. Wei Shi interjects, certain that his own sly tongue will hold better ground whilst worming his way within the Emperors good graces.
“Merciful Emperor, if I may, the old man was nothing more than…” says Wei Shi, off-handedly.
“The old man? Tell me his name,” says the Emperor.
An expression of apprehension draws upon the Priest's chubby face as the dirty smirk drops from his mouth.
“My Emperor, please, everything we do is for your greatness, and your greatness only,” exclaims Ning Tao, fearfully.
“Minister Tao, I continue to be forever grateful of the Brotherhoods many great deeds, of you and Wei Shi's devotion and loyalty. That is why you are both to be rewarded,” says the Emperor, proudly.
“Rewarded? Forgive me I feared punishment your highness. Mere words from your majesty are reward enough,” says Ning Tao, in a relieved tone.
“My Master, we humbly accept any reward you wish to bestow upon us. May I ask the nature of said prize?” asks Wei Shi.
“’Tis the greatest gift a mortal can hope for, and one that a mortal is most fortunate to receive,” says the Emperor, humbly.
“Enlighten me my Emperor, what greatness do you speak of?” asks Wei Shi, in wonder.
“Something the two of you appear to have lost during your pursuit of enlightenment: humanity,” says the Emperor, intensely.
Emperor Yu-Huang removes their hoods and places his hands against their foreheads. As he closes his eyes a bright white light emits from the palms of his hands. The two Priests gasp inwards with shock as they're confronted with the memories of Master Yoshio's family, good deeds, and many noble sacrifices.
“His name was…Harutaka Yoshio,” whispers Ning Tao as tears fall freely from his wide eyes.
Wei Shi processes his own misdeeds that had caused the death of the decent aged man and suddenly cannot believe what he had done. In sudden panic and overwhelming despair, he looks at Kamui Li and crawls over to him on his hands and knees.
“Forgive me, forgive me, I beg of your forgiveness humble one,” sobs Wei Shi uncontrollably.
The Priest grovels at his feet and repeats his begs of forgiveness as Ning Tao stares in regret at Yoshio's covered body. Emperor Yu-Huang looks pitifully at Wei Shi as he wails in shame.
“Master Samurai, can you find it within your heart to forgive this man?” asks Yu-Huang.
Kamui Li looks down at the grovelling Priest in disgust and pity then ponders on the magnitude of Yu-Huang's question. A drop of sweat rolls down the Samurai's temple as he looks down at Yoshio's lifeless body and his raging thoughts command his fingers to his Katana. The tormented Samurai resists the urge to avenge his brother, putting his mission first.
“If that is the wish of the Emperor, yes,” confirms Kamui Li with an affirmative and tense grunt.
The results from Yu-Huang's test of character are inadequate, but sufficient enough to qualify for another test of character another day. Perhaps a better day, Kamui Li had already passed one test; that of duty. But more evidence of the young Samurai's worth was needed if he is to trust him completely. Yu-Huang senses the Samurai's pain, anguish and anger, and not all of it stemmed from losing Master Yoshio this day. The Emperor nods to the remaining Monks and Ministers, and they bring Ning Tao and Wei Shi before him, still bawling like children.
“You will go now to meditation, you are not to break your prayers until your souls are rid of the cruelty and malice that you have cursed upon this day. Go now,” commands the Emperor, “General you are dismissed to carry out your duties,” adds Yu-Huang before disappearing in a sudden gust of wind.
The Samurai lift their fallen comrade Yoshio between them, and they are escorted within the city walls to begin their long journey to the Citadel. As the solemn Samurai walk through the inner city gates, Chung Denshi races to a skidding halt on his steed and leaps from his saddle to greet General Arachie.
“What has happened?” asks Chung Denshi, observing the disembowelled Samurai being carried past.
“You are too late Minister Denshi. Why did you refuse my request for assistance this day?” says General Arachie, withholding his fury.
“I received no such request,” replies Chung Denshi, baffled.
Minister Jian-Heng stands by his entourage of Priests and smiles connivingly their way. Chung Denshi storms across to Jian-Heng and grips him by the scruff of his collar and lifts him of his feet before slamming him against the wall of a stone shack.
“You dare interfere with my duties! Listen to me now, friend or no, you dare to sabotage my duties to our Great Emperor again, man of peace or not... I will make you sorry. Do you understand?” snarls Chung Denshi.
Minister Jian-Heng nods fearfully and the angered Minister slams him against the wall once more before releasing him.
Afternoon approaches in the Huanghua city, and the Samurai are shown to their barracks. That night the Samurai prepare a pyre for Master Yoshio, and as they watch the still man being consumed by the night warming flames, Kamui Li's heart fills with wrath and obsession. After the ceremony, Yu-Huang scours the inside of the Tower of Guāng once again. For some time now he'd been trying to locate two items of great interest, the twin blades, Shikyo and Yasu. He remembers the stories the first Elder Priests had told him as if it were yesterday. The swords were placed under his protection, yet he was forbidden to touch, or even look upon the two swords as a child. As he grew into a young man, he'd long since accepted their wisdom and advice and laid the matter to rest. It was only after many other items of great worth and danger were placed under his charge the Five Priests kept an inventory. Only they did not list the twin blades, and continue to be ever illusive to Yu-Huang's eyes and intuition. For his life, and much to his wonder and embarrassment, he could not find these swords.
CHAPTER FOUR
Four seasons later…
The battle-scarred Samurai have yet to reveal the horrors of what drove them out of Japan. Their chipped, broken and oddly shaped Kikou and Kabuto armour shows only a glimpse of the massacre they've had escaped, and General Arachie and Yu-Huang had chosen to give them more time to confront the horrors they had faced. Time was all they needed and it would not be long now until one of them revealed the violent, savage story to the Emperor. Still, the Samurai were making quite a name for themselves around the city. Curious teenagers everywhere had heard about their way of life named Bushido and before long there wasn't a child in the Empire without a Bo mimicking their every move. On a peaceful night's walk in the orchard, Emperor Yu-Huang happens across Kamui Li resting in a hammock with his armour resting neatly beside his bare feet on the soft green grass. Yu-Huang is impressed at what he sees next as a swarm of fireflies tranquilly arrange themselves in a formation of words at Kamui Li's behest. The fireflies gather and scatter to form luminous trails of Japanese calligraphy; the bright yellow light casts a welcoming glow under the darkness of the orchard trees, and even though Yu-Huang is some distance away, he can clearly read the wonderfully crafted words against the dark of night. The nature of the glowing passages inject faith into Yu-Huang, that these arrivals possess goodwill in their nature, even this one who had been unduly wronged upon his arrival. The Samurai bows farewell to the fireflies and they disperse and hover around the courtyard until fading into
darkness. The young man sits on the edge of his hammock and exhales deeply with a quaint smile before taking a hearty sized gulp of his special brew of ‘Howaitou īdo’ (White Weed) tea. The fireflies had brought him good news; the kind of news that makes one feel alive with a sense of hope, hope that more good news will arrive through sheer mechanism. Yu-Huang approaches the young man, and the Samurai bows humbly on his knee.
“Your beloved, she is safe I hope?” asks Yu-Huang, kindly.
"Yes, Emperor Yu-Huang, she is safe," replies Kamui Li.
Yu-Huang commands Kamui Li to rise, and before the Emperor can utter but one more word, Kamui Li casually whispers words of magic, casting a mysterious spell of the tongue on his visitor. It was a brave yet risky move, but a risk he was willing to take nevertheless. Yu-Huang feels an overwhelming sense of magic filling his body and soul, a welcoming soothing sensation that he had not yet experienced from any spell during his years of studies, for these are languages he is not yet acquainted with. Despite his intrigue, Yu-Huang stares fiercely at Kamui Li, shooting him a severe look of disapproval. Kamui Li looks the Emperor in the eyes and takes a deep breath; and awaits the sure-fire grilling he is about to receive.
"You dare cast a spell on me without my consent,” says Yu-Huang, crossly in the strange English dialect.
“Under the circumstances, yes,” replies Kamui Li, curtly.
“What is this…what manner of language do my words sound?" exclaims the Emperor, confused and mystified at the sound of his own words.
“One unknown to our enemies sire,” says Kamui Li.
“Since you are clearly unfamiliar with my rule Master Samurai, I tell you this now, to cast a spell of the tongue upon me or any other without permission under my rule is completely forbidden. Do you understand?" warns Yu-Huang as if to discipline a nephew, or some stranger’s reckless child.
“Clear as the mountain springs in midsummer my Master,” affirms Kamui Li.
Kamui Li had clearly adapted to using this strange alien language, a language not yet realised by this age, but for what reason, the Emperor could not even guess.
“What language do I speak? ‘Tis brutish and blunt,” says the Emperor.
“I do not yet know the origin of this dialect my Emperor; tis one of many languages the Spell of the Tongue possesses. Informed I was by Emperor Kazuko, the one who bestowed this spell upon me, that one day foreign noblemen would speak in such a way,” explains Kamui Li.
“You take many risks, yet there is no doubt you are well trained in the art of magic,” says Yu-Huang,
“Forgive my arrogance Master Yu-Huang, I dare not speak in my native tongue, or that of yours. The Darkness has ears and eyes, everywhere. The Darkness listens, I trust only these sacred languages with the messages I must convey to you. I have shared with you this spell so that I may inform you of my mission, and deliver a message from Emperor Kazuko. There are matters, sensitive matters that I have been entrusted to inform you of, and you only my Master. Matters of Darkness and evil, matters of the end of mankind,” says Kamui Li.
“Walk with me Kamui Li, my feeling tells me you have quite a story to tell. What of this Darkness that befalls the greatness of Japan?” asks Yu-Huang.
“What began as mere crops dying and animals behaving strangely transpired into something else? It was as if some unseen malevolent force was increasing in strength; by feeding of the land, by feeding of the fear of the people. At first, the townsfolk and farmers blamed it on a bad moon. But when entire farm lands began producing decaying crops and simple domesticated beasts became violent, as if they knew something we did not, it became perfectly clear that this force was not of our natural world. Then came the true famine, livestock became sick and perished without reason, and the rivers turned to poison. The cattle did not last a quarter moon, the people starved, and without rainfall, many fell sick and died. Just when we thought things could not get any worse; the plague spread and grew in strength as it preyed on the surrounding lands. Rodents most feral and ravenous rose from the sewers and spread their filth and disease in a bid to escape whatever disease lay beneath. Those who survived fled to our Capital, Asahi Island. Behind the city walls, they and Emperor Kazuko were safe, for a while. One day the Samurai were alerted to strange beings wandering the lanes. They were neither alive nor dead. These ‘people’ had risen from their places of rest, crawled out from their tombs. They appeared lost; they simply walked and wailed. We gave them honourable deaths, quick and painless. We believed the worst had passed, and then arose something else, something… unspeakable your Highness,” says Kamui Li reluctantly.
“As disturbing and upsetting as these events are, you must reveal to me that which you find so terrifying,” replies the Emperor.
“Something was in the dungeons, the prisoners began dying, dying in the darkness. These prisoners rose from their deaths and began attacking the dungeon guards. The dungeon guards who had been bitten by the prisoners, they...we did not know what poison they carried in their veins and brought into their homes. In the dark filthy dungeon I happened upon the stench of dead meat as I pursued the origin of this disease. There, I faced hundreds of undead, in life they were fiends, murderers, violators of women... filth. We reduced them to limbs, and I assumed we had successfully stopped the outbreak, I was wrong. On the eve of the autumn crescent moon, I bore witness to another of these… Wandering Dead. The dungeon guards, who had carried the disease into their homes, had turned, and passed the curse onto their families, women and...children,” says Kamui Li stuttering as he remembers their white faces and pale eyes.
“These undead beings evolved?” asks Yu-Huang.
“The first of the undead victims we cut down in the lanes of spring ignored the living. But this second outbreak of undead villagers was of a savage nature. They fed upon the flesh of the living as if their very existence depended on it. Ravenous they were, incapable of reason. Monsters Master Yu-Huang… not people, maybe demons. I know not of their true origin, but there was no stopping their thirst for blood as they began feeding on the people of the city. The survivors fled to the shore, the Samurai stayed behind to protect our Emperor. Little did we know...we were all deceived,” frowns Kamui Li.
“Kamui Li, what has become of my friend and ally, Emperor Kazuko?” asks Yu-Huang.
“We failed him to his death,” replies Kamui Li, shamefully.
“Tatsu,” says Yu-Huang with a heavy heart, “why did I not foresee this?” he muses solemnly.
“Emperor Tatsu warned me that you face a deity unfamiliar to you, and equally as powerful,” says Kamui Li.
“Most deities are Kamui Li, it does not concern me how powerful this deity is, light will always reign over darkness,” replies Yu-Huang. “You claim these undead beings are incapable of reason. Were your attempts to reason with them, with words or steel?” asks Yu-Huang.
“Both,” replies Kamui Li.
“If they are incapable of reason they possess no memory of their former life,” muses Yu-Huang.
“Yes, it was as if their spirits were no more. Those who were bitten were good people, many of whom I'd greet many times. But as the plague evolved, there was no discernible difference between the kind of heart, and the fiends that had risen from their deaths in the dungeons. ‘Tis a strange thing, their height of intelligence did not meet with their desire to feed, yet they still possess the use of their limbs, and speech,” says Kamui Li.
“How soon after infection do they arise?” asks Yu-Huang.
“The illness has a hibernation period of one sundown before they arise to feed, though some have been known to rise sooner, within seconds, it depends greatly on the extent of the affliction. Ultimately, it matters not, any who fall foul to the bite of one of these things, fall sick, and soon die, and awake alike in nature... as one of these things,” says Kamui Li uneasily.
“This Darkness hails from the damned realm of Diyu, and you claim those who were infected in the dungeons were of a feral nature. The Darkness appe
ars to be drawn to the wicked of heart it seems,” observes Yu-Huang, “the question is Kamui Li, what makes you believe that you and your countrymen did not bring the Darkness with you into my city?" asks Yu-Huang.
The two men stop and face each other; Yu-Huang's face remains expressionless, solid and stern. They continue walking below the peace of night, below the silent and still orange trees, and Yu-Huang patiently awaits an intelligent response that would defend the Samurai's right to remain within the great security of the city walls.
“My senses are alert to the presence of the Darkness; as yet I sense its evil absent within these walls. I can assure you, were a member of our caravan infected, we would have discovered this upon our journey,” says Kamui Li.
“Your knowledge of these disturbing matters is most valuable Kamui Li. What of your attempts to concoct a cure?” asks Yu-Huang.