by Ryan Kirk
Suzo dashed forward, the dagger punching him in the stomach. She punched again and again, ensuring no healing could save him. In a few moments it was done, and she stepped back.
She held his gaze as he died, content to let her face be the last sight he saw. Then she cleaned the dagger and began the journey back to the inn where she’d first spoken with Asa privately. She’d raise a cup for her fallen friend. She thought Asa would appreciate that.
Koji spent the winter wandering the Kingdom. After leaving Stonekeep he slowly worked his way south, toward the lands where his adventure had begun. The winter was harsh, and starvation was every bit the problem that Mari had worried it would be. If there was a bright spot to be found in the war, it was that there were now far fewer mouths to feed.
There were still too many, though. Koji did what he could. He was an excellent hunter, and he often brought meat to villages as he passed. It was never much, but Koji had learned only to do what he could. He could spend his whole life in service to others and still not solve even a fraction of the world’s problems.
Before long, he made it down to where Haven had burned to the ground. Memories ran through Koji, and he let them, remembering his service to Minori and the mistakes he’d made in that service. Although he hadn’t burned Haven, he felt as though he’d had some part.
For almost a full moon he volunteered to help rebuild the city. They were going to call it New Haven, and it would be the new capital of Lord Satoru’s lands. The city’s completion was one of Lord Satoru’s primary objectives, and Lady Mari, through Takahiro, had donated a substantial amount of gold to the cause, earning her no small amount of goodwill.
Koji experienced the joy of building something for the first time in his life. His entire childhood had been focused on learning how to use the sword, how to kill and destroy. Now he built, and while he ended every day hungry and tired, he felt a deep satisfaction he never had before. When the city wall was complete, they officially renamed the capital, and people started returning.
Eventually, though, he needed to complete the task he’d been putting off. He took to the road again, trying to find a location that had only been described to him in vague terms. When he finally found it, though, there was no question it was the right place.
The house sat on the edge of some old woods. The woods protected it on one side, and a large rise in the land protected it on the other. And it was the only house for at least a league in any direction.
Koji approached until he was close enough to sense the lives inside. Then he sat in the snow and waited. The sun was high in the sky, and although the air was cold, Koji felt plenty warm in his heavy traveling clothes.
He didn’t have to wait long. Soon, the door opened and a man came out. He was armed with a sword and moved with the sort of grace that only came from being a nightblade. A nightblade with an awful lot of experience. Koji recognized a master when he saw one.
The man stopped about five paces away from Koji, giving Koji a hard stare.
Koji stood up and brushed himself off. He’d believed Asa, of course, but experiencing it was something else entirely. He could see the man in front of him, clear as day, but couldn’t sense anything. “Now, that is disconcerting,” he said.
The man frowned, not sure what Koji referred to. Koji realized he was looking at perhaps one of the only men in the Kingdom who could fight him on even terms. If Koji couldn’t sense the man’s movements, he lost one of his greatest advantages. Part of him itched to try, but that was far from the reason he was here.
“My name is Koji,” he continued. “I’m here because of Asa.”
The man looked him up and down, his gaze not missing any detail. Finally, he sighed, and his stance relaxed. “She’s dead, isn’t she?”
Koji nodded.
Daisuke looked around, as though he was expecting Asa to jump out of a clump of grass somewhere. He nodded to the woods. “Come, walk with me. You can tell me how she died.”
They walked into the woods and Koji did just that, leaving out no detail that he thought was important. Daisuke listened to the entire story, and by the time Koji finished, they were deep in the woods. Koji, as always, was reminded of just how much life there was in places like this.
“Why are you here?” Daisuke asked.
“She looked up to you, and she once told me that if there was one place in the Kingdom where she felt welcome, it was here. I wanted you to know how her story ended. To let you know that I believe she found peace.”
Daisuke nodded curtly. Koji could tell his words had affected the man.
Koji had a question for him. “Will you leave with us?”
Daisuke shook his head, the response Koji had expected. The man had lived in hiding almost his entire life, and he’d built a life beyond the blades. There was no reason for him to give that up. Koji reached up and pulled out Asa’s swords. He’d cleaned and polished them. “Then I’d like to give you these.”
Daisuke hesitated. “Why me?”
“Because you taught her how to truly use these. I have no need for them. And Asa told me that your daughter is also gifted. If you so choose, perhaps they could be hers.”
“I’m not sure I will train her.”
“Then they can be a symbol for you, a reminder of the girl whose life you changed for the better.”
Daisuke frowned, then bowed and took the swords. “Thank you.”
Koji could understand why the former nightblade had chosen this place. Here, in the deep woods, Koji felt a peace, separate from the concerns of the world. He was almost sad to leave. When they reached the edge of the woods, Daisuke stopped and turned to him.
“I’m sorry that I will not offer you shelter for the night. We came out here to escape the madness of the world, and I will not invite any in, even if it comes in the guise of a friend.”
Koji didn’t mind. He wanted to be on his way back toward the land of House Kita.
The two warriors bowed toward one another. “Thank you, Koji,” Daisuke said. “May you find peace.”
“And may the peace of this place remain with your family,” Koji replied.
Daisuke returned to his house, and Koji wrapped himself up tightly in his robes and began the long trek back to House Kita’s lands.
27
Mari wondered if she would ever be able to look down on the valley with the wonder she once had. Now, even though the battlefield had been cleared, she still saw only the bodies and blood of the battle that had shattered the Kingdom for good.
Her proposal, which had once been laughed at, was now becoming a reality. Even she didn’t approve of the result, but she supposed that was the point. It was still better than any of the other options. It acknowledged the world as it was, not as they wished it would be.
The winter had been every bit as nightmarish as she had feared. Across the Kingdom, famine had ravaged an already-devastated population. Lord Satoru’s land had probably fared best of all, but even his losses had been substantial. The war, combined with the weather, had devastated everything. Mari planned on taking a census this summer, but she suspected that only a quarter of her population had survived. Lord Tsuneo, replacing Katashi, had fared even more poorly.
Katashi had needed more resources, and he’d poured everything into his war effort. It was a gamble and he had lost. All in all, the Kingdom, in just a few short cycles, had fallen to a fraction of its former glory.
Mari knew the cost couldn’t just be measured in lives. Those who had grown up with the time and leisure to advance philosophy and knowledge were gone. No longer could an artist make a living through painting or writing. Every hand would be bent toward survival.
The Kingdom was broken more deeply than most realized. It would take many cycles for them to return even to the types of lives they remembered.
They would have to find their own way forward now. A way without the strength of the blades to guide and protect them.
Thinking of the blades drew Mari’s eyes to Ko
ji, who had joined her party quietly as they left Stonekeep. No one paid him much attention, and his hood covered his face. She was glad he was here.
Below them, a large group of nobles were gathered. Lords Satoru and Tsuneo were present already, and Takahiro would complete the set of houses.
Before, Mari might have felt nervousness, but not today. She felt confident. There wasn’t any other option. None of them could afford any other decision. And with Koji nearby, she couldn’t help but feel secure in her personal safety.
They rode down to the gathering, Takahiro in the lead. Part of Mari felt a pang of jealousy. This whole treaty had been her idea, but it would be Takahiro who would go down in history as the one who’d made it happen. Only time would tell if he was viewed favorably or not.
The field was almost silent, a dramatic difference from the last time Mari had looked over the valley. The only sounds were the flags snapping in the spring wind. As they reached the field, they dropped off their horses and walked into the tent where the other lords were gathered.
Mari worked over all the stipulations of the treaty in her mind, checking for the thousandth time that there wasn’t a mistake they were making at the last moment. Over the course of the past few moons, there had been discussion back and forth between the lords, ironing out the final details of the agreement. Today wasn’t about negotiating, it was about celebrating a new peace.
The first and most important stipulation of the treaty was that the old Kingdom would be no more. That, more than anything else, was what pained Mari. She’d fought long and hard, thinking that she could save the land. But after the damage of the past few cycles, she didn’t think that was reasonable. Too many lives had been lost, too much history destroyed. None of the houses would willingly accept a separate ruler over them, and none of the houses had the military support to enforce peace throughout the land.
Her solution, then, was to not fight the fight in the first place. They’d been operating as separate houses for some time now, and continuing the pattern would be easier than trying to install a new king. The Kingdom would become the Three Kingdoms, each governed independently.
She’d left a clause in the treaty, a thread of hope for them all to cling to. Any of the lords, at any time, had the right to call a conclave that the others were required by law to attend. The intent, unwritten, was that it provided an opportunity for the lords to reunify the Three Kingdoms once again in the future. Mari didn’t think it would be invoked in their lifetimes, and maybe not even their children’s, but eventually they would put the hate of the past behind them and unify once again.
Dealing with the blades had been another thorny issue. While most of the blades had departed, new ones would be born. The gift tended to manifest in families where at least one of the parents was gifted, but sometimes one arose naturally. The best solution they’d come up with was a system of learning centers. Those discovered with the gift would be sent there, ideally to learn the skills of the dayblades. The Three Kingdoms could always use more healers. Unfortunately, without input from the blades, it was difficult to tell what was reasonable and what wasn’t.
Any blade discovered who wasn’t under the control of one of the learning centers would be killed. As soon as the lords signed the treaty, Koji would be killed if people knew who he was. Mari hated the lie inherent in their actions immediately after the signing of the treaty, but she still felt this was the best path.
For all that the treaty represented, the mood around the tent was somber. None of the lords gathered had been responsible for the war, but they were the ones there for the conclusion. They respected one another, at least, but there wasn’t any love lost between them. This wasn’t a treaty where they would give long speeches or celebrate with their people. It was a treaty that saved them all from absolute ruin.
By the time her mind wandered back to the signing, the lords were already gathered around a table. There were three copies, and the lords were looking through them to make sure they were the same. When they all looked up, they nodded to one another. Takahiro signed each of the treaties, then sent them over to Lord Satoru. Satoru signed them, then passed them to Tsuneo. Within a few moments, it was all over.
The Kingdom was no more, but the land would have peace.
Epilogue
He had tried to live on the island with the other blades, but Koji, as well as quite a few others, hadn’t been able to take it for more than a few cycles. He’d tried. For Asa’s sake, he had tried.
The island would have been paradise for her, he thought. The blades had built a home there, far away from the concerns of the Three Kingdoms. There were schools, and blades ran training sessions constantly. Not every person born to the blades was gifted, but many were, and after cycles of seeing their population diminish, their numbers crept upward once again.
Like the Three Kingdoms, they were slowly rebuilding. But the cuts had gone deep, and it would take an impressive amount of time for those wounds to heal.
Koji felt that most of the surviving blades fell into two camps. The first group, largest by far, was the group that felt no displeasure at leaving the problems of the Three Kingdoms in the past. They wanted to live lives of peace, wanted to embrace farming and training, with no real hope of ever needing their skills. Their island wasn’t large, but for many blades, it was the first time they could live without fear of judgment from others. For most, the sacrifice of freedom was worth it. Asa would have loved it.
Koji didn’t. He’d enjoyed constructing houses and planting the fields, but as soon as it was clear that they’d made a sustainable home for themselves, he found himself growing restless. He trained, and he taught new generations. No one quite understood how he managed to pull such energy into himself, and he wasn’t quite sure either. He had his suspicions, but that was it.
But even daily sparring didn’t satisfy him. Every day on the island he felt as though he was running in a circle, covering a lot of distance but going nowhere. He didn’t have any particular goals, but he knew the island couldn’t be his home.
He’d spoken with Hajimi, and the leader of the blades, now getting almost too old to lead, allowed him passage off the island.
Koji hadn’t been the first, and he probably wouldn’t be the last. So long as they swore never to discuss the island, Hajimi didn’t attempt to force anyone to stay. They were returned to Highgate whenever a boat left, and abandoned. Hajimi’s only rule was that if they left, they couldn’t return. Other than the handful of navigators who knew how to find the island, the trip to and from the island was one-way.
When Koji left, there had been plenty of tears. For the first time since becoming a blade, he’d managed to make numerous friends, and if not for the deep discontent in his heart, he would have remained. Junko, for one, had become one of his best students, a sword master in her own right. But he needed more than this, even if it meant being hunted and an outcast for the rest of his life.
Koji crossed the sea to Highgate, then began heading south. He had some idea that he wanted to see Lady Mari again, but he did not hurry. He had the rest of his life to spend in the land. He wandered from village to village, mostly just observing how life was progressing.
At Highgate, there was no evidence of the war. It had never gotten that far north. But after a moon of traveling south, the signs were still visible after five cycles. Buildings were burned out, as were some forests that were just starting to regrow.
Koji was also surprised by the number of people. Almost everywhere he went he heard the cry of babies, but there were so few citzens. The Three Kingdoms would take several generations to recover its population, and that was assuming no more disasters befell them.
Eventually, Koji made his way to Stonekeep. No one had bothered him for most of the trip. The only close call he’d had was when he passed one of the new learning centers. Some of the children had sensed him and told their elders. Fortunately, it was easy enough to escape them, but he made a note to himself. It would bec
ome harder for the gifted to live in the Three Kingdoms, harder than ever before.
He passed through the gates of Stonekeep without incident, renting a room at an inn and waiting until the next meeting of the open council. When the day arrived, he appeared early to claim a place where he could watch the lord and lady. When the sun reached its zenith, quite a crowd had gathered and the doors opened to admit Lord Takahiro and Lady Mari.
Koji hadn’t expected the onslaught of emotions he felt when he saw the two of them. They walked hand in hand, and if possible, Lady Mari looked even lovelier than before. Her belly was round with child, and a very young girl walked behind the couple. Takahiro walked with a slight limp, evidence that his wound from the Battle of Stonekeep Valley had never healed completely.
The citizens brought forth their complaints, and Koji reveled in the experience. Takahiro and Mari listened to each complaint, judging it fairly. Takahiro gave the rulings, but Koji noticed that whenever a decision wasn’t simple, he’d lean over and whisper with Mari. Only when they had reached some sort of agreement did Takahiro give his decision.
The citizens seemed content to Koji, pleased with their rulers. Some complaints were more severe, but each was handled with grace.
As the afternoon wore on, Mari’s eyes finally traveled over Koji, stopping when she saw him. He gave a bit of a smile and a short bow. She didn’t raise an alarm about him, and after the council finally concluded, excused herself from Takahiro’s company. She came up to him, concern written on her face. “Is something wrong?”
He shook his head, and the little girl came up running behind her mother. “Walk with me?” Koji asked.
Mari nodded, and the three of them made their way to one of the viewpoints looking out over the valley.
Mari spoke first. “It’s good to see you, Koji, but you know that it is death for both of us if you’re discovered.”
“I know. But I wanted to see you one more time.”
