Nightblade

by Ryan Kirk

  Moriko nodded, her attention still focused on her surroundings. One building stood out above the rest, located as far away from the gate as was possible. It was the only building with more than one level and it was decorated with some of the most impressive and ornate woodwork she had ever seen. She assumed it was the most important building. There were four others, all of which were simple, unremarkable, and efficient.

  The monk spoke again, and there was a new edge in his voice that caused Moriko to focus. “Don’t think about escape. I realize it’s all you’re going to think about for the next few weeks, but please try to avoid it. As you can see, the walls aren’t tall. The gate is shut at night, but it isn’t much more than an ornament. Our strength comes from our powers, and you can’t escape from them. Trust me.”

  Moriko surprised herself by blurting out, “Why should I?”

  “Because many cycles ago I was in your shoes thinking the exact same things. I tried to escape. I had a brilliant plan for getting away. The night of my escape I ran and put my plan into action. They didn’t stop me from leaving. Looking back on it now, I’m pretty sure that one of them watched me as I left, although I thought I’d gotten away without notice. They didn’t even try to chase me. They let me get a head start, just so I knew what I was up against. I never stopped moving, trying to get out of the range of their senses. I ran for two days, forfeiting sleep. But it didn’t matter. Two days later, after I thought I was safe, they came for me and brought me back. I still carry the marks from the punishment to this day.”

  Moriko thought over his words. She decided that it was a good story, but she didn’t believe him. He noticed it too.

  “Don’t worry. I know you’ll try to come up with your own plan, and you won’t listen to me. Few people do. But listen to the others. They’ve been through the same things, and some of them have tried to escape. Listen to their stories and then see if you will believe mine. I’m just trying to help.” The monk halted for moment, as if he had just noticed something that he hadn’t before. “Now, I must take you to the Abbot, for he wants to meet you.”

  Moriko followed the monk without argument. As she suspected, they went to the large building at the back of the monastery. The inside was even more impressive than the outside. The carvings were elaborate and stretched throughout the entire frame and all the woodwork. There was more gold than Moriko had ever seen in one place before. Moriko, despite herself, was fascinated by the carvings and etchings and wished she could have the opportunity to look at them and study them. Sometimes in her spare time she enjoyed carving, but this was far beyond her ability.

  She almost didn’t notice the man who sat in the center of the room. He was a small man, but when Moriko turned her attention to him, she knew immediately why he was the leader of the monks. Goro had been stronger than anyone she had ever met. Through their entire journey he never stopped glowing, and Moriko came to accept this was what monks were like. This was stronger. She had adjusted to being around Goro, reaching the state where she only noticed his glow if she searched for it. Facing the Abbot she felt her heart begin to beat faster and her palms begin to sweat.

  The Abbot sat cross-legged, engaged in meditation. Moriko almost jumped when he spoke. He had been sitting so still she had wondered if he was awake. “Moriko, I am glad you are able to be with us. I can tell that you are scared and angry and thinking about your family. I want you to know everything is going to be fine. We are going to take care of you here, and we’re going to teach you how to be the best person you can be so you can go around helping people like we do. I hope you think that sounds nice.”

  Moriko thought that the Abbot’s monotone voice sounded more creepy than nice, but even her young mind was able to see the wisdom in going along with this man. “Yes, it does.”

  “I know you’re going to think about running away, but please don’t. What you don’t understand is we need you here. People like us are special, and for the good of the Kingdom we need to take care of each other. There are rules here that will help keep you safe and happy. The first one, and one of the most important, is to never leave without permission. The world is a dangerous place, but in here you will be safe, and we will take care of you. The other students will let you know the other rules.”

  Moriko nodded, unsure of what else she could do.

  “There’s another reason we ask you not to leave. The world doesn’t understand the power you have. They are scared of you. It’s much safer for you to be here with others who understand you. If you go out into the world again before you are ready, I don’t know what would happen to you.”

  Moriko thought of her family, not even seeing her off. The moment she had been tested she had been torn from her family as though she had never existed. They had let her go. They had wanted her to leave. She understood now.

  “I’m the Abbot of this monastery. I want you to think of me both as a teacher and as a friend. I will make sure that the rules are followed so everyone stays safe, but if there is something bad happening, or if you need help for whatever reason, rest assured that I will be here to help you out. You can always come talk to me.”

  Moriko nodded again. She was confused. Everything about the monastery was wrong, and she felt like unknown horrors were heading towards her, but she couldn’t figure out what they could be. Everyone here seemed kind if a little weird. She didn’t like Goro at all, but he seemed to be the exception. Everyone else had been very nice to her. They had been nicer than her family.

  Moriko’s head swam. She didn’t know what was right and wrong. The abbot saw her distress and decided to conclude the interview.

  “I apologize for taking up so much of your time at such an inopportune moment. Of course, you must be exhausted after all the traveling you have done. You should get some rest. Some of the students will show you where to sleep, and after you have gotten some rest, we can help you write a letter home to your parents so you can tell them you are safe.”

  Moriko shook her head. If there was one thing she was certain of, it was that she didn’t want to write to her family. They wanted her gone and so she would disappear.

  The kind monk who had brought her to the Abbot escorted her out of the building. He didn’t say anything, but he seemed happy to have Moriko there. The monk led her to one of the less elegant buildings Moriko had noticed upon her arrival. Inside she found a communal living space with a small kitchen, a dining area, and a number of beds. The monk motioned over one of the other students who was cleaning their area. “Tomotsu, get over here.”

  Tomotsu stopped cleaning his space and came over, giving both the monk and Moriko a quick bow. “Yes, sir?”

  Moriko’s heart fluttered for a moment. Even with a shaved head and the plain robes of the Monastery, the boy was cute. He was very cute.

  “Moriko, this is Tomotsu. Tomotsu, Moriko. Moriko is going to be our newest student. I would like you to take her around the monastery, tell her about life here, share with her the rules, and get her settled in.”

  Moriko looked at Tomotsu curiously, her childish heart leaping to fantasies her head knew were silly. She wanted to ride out of the monastery with him. She guessed he was a couple of cycles older than her, maybe three or four. But he was tall and his shoulders were already broad. Even with the small age difference it looked like he could pick her up easily and throw her around. He could be the boy who rescued her. They could live together and raise a big family in a nice house. . .

  “Moriko?”

  Moriko startled. She had gotten lost in her dreams and didn’t realize the boy had been trying to get her attention. She looked at him and nodded.

  “So, they got you too?”

  Moriko nodded. She was finding it challenging to know which words to use around the boy. It was much harder than talking with her brothers.

  “It’s tough. I know. We’ve all been through the same here. We were all taken from our families at one point or another, although usually younger than you. But don’t worry, life
here isn’t bad. The rules are simple. Listen to the monks and don’t try to leave.”

  Moriko gave the boy a hostile stare. She felt like her newly woven dream was fraying at the edges.

  “It’s not something they tell us to say to newcomers. It’s something I’ve experienced, something a lot of us have experienced. Almost everyone tries. It’s scary at first. A couple of cycles ago, when I first got here, a couple of us tried to run away. We made it quite a ways, but they always get you in the end. The Abbot, he’s really strong in the sense, and he can always find you no matter how far away you get. When I got back, he gave me these.” Tomotsu turned around and raised his robes a little to display his back, which had narrow raised scars crisscrossing all over it.

  Moriko shuddered. “Did it hurt?”

  Tomotsu lowered his head and his voice. “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’m not. I still think about escaping sometimes, but there’s no way. Sure, you can get outside the walls, but they’ll find you. They can sense you no matter where you are. But life here isn’t too bad. The food is good and as long as you follow what the monks say, life is pretty comfortable. We don’t really want for anything, and they do make us stronger. Both physically and with the sense.”

  Tomotsu took her out into the grounds. The five buildings were arranged in an arc opening towards the main gate. One building was a supply building, holding all the food and goods for the monastery. The other building closest to the gate was a training center than was used during the winter and during inclement weather. The next two buildings in were living quarters, one for the students and one for the monks. Each held about fifteen to twenty people, so the monastery never had more than forty residents.

  The main building was, as she had guessed, the home of the Abbot. It served several ceremonial purposes and was the center of all activity in the monastery. Students were not allowed in without permission until they became blood-sworn monks.

  Moriko suffered from a sense of claustrophobia. Every day of her life the world had been open to her. She had explored woods and forests, free to go as she pleased. The world was large and wide. The monastery was small and confining. She couldn’t see over the walls. She wanted the trees more than anything else right now.

  At the end of their tour, which didn’t take very long, Tomotsu offered her a bed next to his own. Nobody else was using it and he told her he’d watch over her and keep her safe as she got used to her new place. Moriko gladly accepted, childish love warming her heart in a cold place.

  As Moriko was being shown around the monastery, Goro made a visit to the Abbot’s quarters. The girl concerned him. He needed the guidance of the Abbot. When Goro entered the sanctuary he saw the Abbot was in conference. He walked silently to a corner, knelt and bowed his head to the ground, his forehead resting against the earth. Nervous, he waited for the Abbot to speak to him.

  The Abbot was finishing a meeting with a local official. Goro tried to listen in, but the two were close and the conversation hushed. He couldn’t make out what was being said over the other noises of training trickling in from the grounds, but it was easy to see the Abbot ruled the conversation. The local official was bowing and nodding his head while the Abbot radiated an air of authority. Goro loved to watch the Abbot work.

  Goro tried to keep his smile to himself, but when he failed he didn’t worry. No one would see with his face pressed to the ground, the perfect image of obedience. Almost everyone who came to the monastery, no matter how great, was humbled by their visit. Although different monasteries operated differently, Goro was pleased to be part of one whose respect and knowledge were so well preserved. He knew from his travels that some other monasteries sealed their doors to the world.

  He thought the idea repugnant. There was always a debate about the role of the monastic system occurring between the Abbots. The monasteries faced a unique set of challenges. They were the sole proprietors of the sense, a power coveted and feared by all governments and people. They were also mandated to remain out of secular affairs, which in practice meant staying out of politics. It was this mandate which caused consternation at the Abbots’ council. Some Abbots believed that the monasteries should remain separate, opening their doors only when necessary.

  Perseverance, to Goro’s delight, was involved in the affairs of the world. Not in a way that broke the letter of the mandate, but other abbots had questioned the spirit of the work. The Abbot of Perseverance made himself available to the locals on a limited basis and the monks were often dispatched to local regions. A monastic escort ensured safety from bandits in the region, and the Abbot supported local leaders who would keet the monastery well-supported. Perseverance’s Abbot did not get directly involved in the affairs of government, but he was without doubt the most powerful person in the region.

  Goro was grateful. He knew he was special. He was gifted in the ways of the sense. He knew it was their role to shape the course of future. If not for the monks, Goro was convinced the Three Kingdoms would have been wrecked beyond repair. Through their interventions they would bring back the One Kingdom. It was their destiny.

  Goro’s reverie was interrupted when he felt the Abbot’s energy flow over him. He looked up and saw that the local official was being dismissed. The official, who Goro thought he recognized as a vice-mayor, made several awkward bows and walked backwards out of the room. Even after the nuisance was gone, Goro waited until he was summoned.

  After a couple of moments of silence had passed, Goro felt the Abbot focus his entire attention on him. It was a disconcerting feeling. Even individuals who didn’t have the sense reported being able to feel the Abbot’s power. For those who were trained it felt like being overwhelmed by wave after wave of attention and energy. It was strong enough to take your breath away, and even then it was just a fraction of his total power. Goro tried to remain focused despite the attention.

  The Abbot spoke, “I can see that something troubles you, Goro. Tell me, what happened?”

  “Abbot, the girl concerns me. She is different than anyone I have ever met.”

  The Abbot listened politely. Goro knew he appreciated brevity, but it was also important to him that he explain why he felt how he did.

  “I can barely feel her. When I touched her I was shocked by the amount of energy she was putting out. I had heard rumors in the neighborhood. Stories of being able to see things that no one else could. I went to the house just to test her.”

  Goro looked up. The Abbot seemed disinterested. Goro didn’t understand. He sped up his retelling.

  “I was convinced the rumors were without basis. I didn’t feel anything from her as I approached. Even when I was right next to her she didn’t seem to be anything special. I thought there was no way she could be one of us. But then I touched her, she’s stronger than I ever believed. You’re the only person I’ve ever met who is stronger.”

  Goro risked another glance. The Abbot seemed unconcerned.

  “Abbot, I need your guidance. Please, let me know what is happening.”

  The Abbot waved his hand dismissively. “The girl has the power of the old ones. I have seen it before. Train her as you would any other. She will find her way on the new paths, or she will die.”

  Goro bowed again. He had heard of the powers of the old ones, but he had never experienced it. But he trusted the Abbot with his life. He would do as ordered. He always did.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  He still wasn’t used to the golden crown on his forehead. The new Lord of the Southern Kingdom, Lord Akira, looked upon his army as they marched in front of him. He tried to ignore his itching scalp and imagined himself as a stone within a crashing river, solid and unmoving in the torrential chaos of life. He straightened his posture even further and wiped any hint of emotion from his face. Stone in a river.

  The parade was the beginning of Lord Azuma’s funeral march. He had died as he had lived, on the battlefield swearing both at his own generals and his enemy.
The stories were already becoming legend, and as he thought about them they almost brought a smile to Akira’s face. Almost. But fate had been too cruel. A lone archer, lost in the chaos of battle, had managed to get close enough to the Lord who rode upon his horse. It was a shot legends would someday be written about, but more likely it had been sheer luck. When the archer had been captured he had been nothing but a second-rate soldier, lost behind the front lines when his own troops retreated. His death had been slow and painful. Akira’s anger had guaranteed that.

  Azuma had lived long enough to see the defenses of the pass solidified. His campaign had pushed through the Three Sisters, and they now had built a foothold, a fort on the other side. After cycles of warfare a truce had been reached, and the Kingdom was at peace again, at least for today.

  Akira ran his eyes over the assembled crowd. It seemed as though everyone in the Kingdom had made an appearance, and Akira was struck for a moment by the scope of his responsibility. He knew the people assembled were a minuscule proportion of the people under his rule, but the tide of faces stretched out forever. His father had been right about one thing. Ruling this many people was not an easy task. Those who killed for the responsibility were fools.

  Akira held back his tears. There would be time later. Today he had a Kingdom to rule, and a Kingdom was not strong when its ruler wept.