Fated for War

by Travis Bughi

  “And I’d rather die fighting than from hunger or thirst,” Gavin said.

  “Let’s focus on not dying at all,” Takeo replied.

  They untied the rope and split up, fading into the mist in all directions.

  Takeo paused in his travels to listen when, in the distance, he heard a rock kick loose, tumble down, and clatter ominously. He hoped that was one of his companions but dared not yell out to confirm so. Mostly out of habit, he kept a hand on his katana.

  He didn’t make it very long before a voice cried out.

  “Hey, guys! Here!”

  The shout came from over Takeo’s shoulder, but it was muffled by cloth, mist, and thin air, so Takeo couldn’t be sure if it was Gavin or Nicholas, but he took off all the same. He did not run, for if he did that, he might trip and break a leg, but he did hurry.

  “I found the sennin!” the voice, this time clearly Gavin's, called again. “And she’s beautiful!”

  Takeo nearly stumbled as those words struck him. Fear pulsed through his body like hot fire. His hand on his katana tightened, and his eyes widened.

  Sennin were ugly old men with scraggly white beards.

  Takeo yanked down his cloth covering, cupped his hands to his mouth, and shouted, “Gavin, run! Gavin! Can you hear me? Don’t look at her. It’s a yuki-onna!”

  “She’s so beautiful,” Gavin’s slurred voice drifted back.

  “Nicholas!” Takeo yelled.

  “Gavin’s right,” Nicholas shouted back. “You should see this sennin, Takeo. She’s so, so pretty. She’s an angel.”

  “Damn it, no!” Takeo yelled. “Krunk! Krunk! Stay away!”

  The ogre didn’t reply.

  Takeo hoped for the best, even as he abandoned all caution and burst into a dead sprint. He bounded over rocks, caught his stumbles and falls with his hands, and scrambled over anything that got in his way. His mind raced, having only split seconds to decide where to place his foot in the fog before the ground became visible. Most of the time he chose wisely, but more than once he nearly twisted an ankle or barreled full speed into a boulder.

  Fortunately, the voices had been close, and soon he found a steady slope of rising snow that led up out of the clouds. Takeo drew his katana and picked up his speed, the snow crunching mercilessly beneath him as he charged out of the mist and came face-to-face with what his ears had already foretold.

  The island in the clouds was larger than it had looked at a distance, comparable in size to the base of Lucifan’s tower. In the center stood the lone weeping willow, covered in white. Gavin, Nicholas, and Krunk stumbled slowly through the ankle-deep snow, hardly lifting their feet at all, and the snow packed in front of them, slowing but not halting their progress. Their packs and weapons lay abandoned behind them, and drool seeped from their mouths as they stared unblinkingly at the figure at the island’s center.

  Takeo saw her, too, and wished he hadn’t.

  The yuki-onna, floating in the air just above the snow, appeared to be a thin, young woman draped in a white kimono, her feet dangling lifelessly. The kimono was clutched at her shoulders as if she were simply cold and frail, but it hung loose, opening to reveal a naked figure of stunning beauty. Her pale skin was nearly transparent, but the delicate features of her face were shrouded by hair blacker than Takeo's eyes. The welcoming tilt of her blue lips was shattered by the void of solid white eyes.

  Takeo’s mind screamed, but his heart told him there was nothing in the world more beautiful than this creature. His heart hungered for her.

  Takeo began to lose himself in her presence. He went weak at the knees, and his mind began to numb with lust. His lips drifted apart, and drool began to accumulate to one side of his mouth. At any moment, it would start leaking out to drip onto his clothes and freeze in the chilly air. His thoughts began to slip, to pull, and he could no longer control his every action.

  “She’s so beautiful,” Gavin slurred, slumping through the snow again. “She wants to kiss me.”

  The yuki-onna’s glossy eyes turned toward Takeo, shifting to give him a full view of her body, and the samurai’s heart began to race. Her beauty, such perfection that outpaced even an angel, made Takeo whimper and shudder in desire. Her blue lips begged for warmth, and he knew beyond doubt that she wanted to kiss him, too.

  His mind reminded him that the yuki-onna only wanted to kiss him to suck the life from his soul, but his heart ignored that. Such beauty was worth that kind of pain. His feet shuffled forward in the snow, hardly lifting off the ground but trudging forward all the same.

  On the other side of the island, Krunk had fallen face first into the puffy snow. Overcome with desire, he couldn’t muster the strength to stand again, and instead began to crawl through the white powder on his elbows, muttering things only he could understand.

  Gavin was closest, already halfway up the island with Nicholas only a pace behind.

  Takeo’s weapon began to slip from his grasp. It was too heavy. It was slowing him down. He had to drop it so he could reach the beautiful woman faster.

  Rule one, his mind screamed.

  “The rules don’t apply here,” his heart spoke.

  Your sword! His mind pressed frantically. She’ll want to see your sword.

  “Yes, she would,” he whispered.

  Through sheer determination, Takeo kept ahold of his katana, dragging it along the snowy ground behind him.

  Gavin was closing the distance now. He was only a few paces away, stretching out his arms to touch the slim wonder. Doing so caused him to lose balance, falling forward to his knees. He crawled, begging her, drooling and crying like a baby for her to kiss him.

  She heard, and knelt to grant his wish.

  Save him, Takeo’s mind commanded. Kill her! Don’t let him kiss her.

  “I love her,” his heart answered. “She can do as she wants.”

  Kiss her first, then, his mind pleaded. Don’t let Gavin take her from you.

  Jealousy roared alive in Takeo’s heart. Fiery passion that had lain dormant for three years burst into sudden rage. How dared that knight take this beauty from him? How dared that rum-stain of a human think himself worthy of this creature!

  Yes, yes! That’s it! Now go!

  Takeo yelled and charged, sprinting up the rest of the hill to slam into Gavin. The knight, weak and unaware, took the blow solidly and was knocked several paces away to slide across the snowy ground. When he came to a stop, he whimpered and raised his head, beard now white with snow.

  “Takeo?” he sputtered. “Why’d you do that?”

  “She’s mine!” Takeo’s heart answered.

  Your sword. Show her your sword.

  Takeo turned to the yuki-onna, and her aura of allure rained down upon him to soak into his soul. She was splendor personified.

  Takeo became so weak he couldn’t stand. He sank to his knees and looked up at her.

  “Kiss me,” he begged.

  She will suck the soul from your body.

  “Kiss me,” he repeated.

  Think of Emily. Show her your sword.

  The yuki-onna’s face tilted towards Takeo’s sword, seeing it held loosely in his hand with the point hidden in the snow. She seemed to hesitate, fearful perhaps, but then relented and bent at the waist to float down to Takeo. Her blue lips came first, begging to be kissed and warmed, and her black hair cascaded down to flutter over Takeo’s face. The yuki-onna closed her eyes. His mind nearly lost its place.

  Think of Emily. Picture her! Brown hair, green eyes, freckled face. She smiles at you, she kisses you, she holds you as all the nightmares of the world come to take you. She does not judge you, you wretched disgusting worthless excuse of an existence. All the pain you caused, all the lives you’ve taken, and she accepts you. She died in your arms, whispering her love for you, and here you are begging for scraps before this thing.

  The yuki-onna leaned in, only a hand’s width from Takeo’s lips.

  You weren’t worthy. You never were. You ne
ver loved her.

  “Yes, I did,” he muttered, barely audible. “Emily. . .”

  A tear came to his eye. A crack fractured in his heart. His mind took hold for a single instant. The yuki-onna was a single finger’s width away from killing him. She was so close that Takeo could smell the ice in her soul.

  Now, show her your sword.

  Takeo’s fist tightened around his katana in a grip of steel. He leaned back, flicked the katana up, and screamed as he rammed the sword’s tip through the yuki-onna’s chest.

  She screamed along with him, her blue lips coming apart to let loose an ear-splitting howl. Nicholas fell backward off his feet, and Gavin and Krunk yelped, shaking and rolling in the snow with their hands clapped against their ears. Takeo, though, continued to scream back, matching the yuki-onna’s pain as all his thoughts of love, loss, and betrayal came pouring out of him.

  The yuki-onna plummeted to the ground, slumping into the snow to leave tracks for the first time. When she stopped screaming, so did Takeo. His sword was still deep in her chest, popping out the other end and dripping blue blood into the snow. Tears ran thickly down Takeo’s cheeks as his breath pumped clouds of white steam into the air. The yuki-onna reached out a single pale hand and touched Takeo’s cheek. With a pleading look, she tried to entice him, puckering blue and luscious lips, begging for warmth.

  But her spell had ended.

  “My heart belongs to another,” Takeo said.

  He twisted his sword, and the yuki-onna screeched one last time before she collapsed completely. Her body began to sink into the snow, but before she could take his sword with her, Takeo ripped it free and swept it through the air to clean the blade.

  When he looked up, the weeping willow was gone, and in its place sat a fat old man with wrinkled skin and white hair, wearing nothing but a loincloth.

  Chapter 23

  The sennin was sitting cross legged on barren soil, the snow ceasing to fall within a pace of the old creature. It had a long white beard that trailed all the way down its belly to roll across the ground, but its head was bald and spotted with dark freckles. The ears had grown wide enough to be distracting, while the eyes were so slim that Takeo couldn’t be sure they were open at all. Its portly belly stuck out to rest upon its crossed shins, and despite the fact that it was sitting, Takeo got the impression the sennin would be rather tall if it stood, perhaps as tall as Nicholas.

  To top it all off, the sennin was grinning as wide as it could without parting its lips.

  “Takeo,” Gavin mumbled, struggling to gain footing nearby. “What in the world just happened?”

  “That was a yuki-onna,” Takeo replied, trembling, though not from the cold. “They lure their victims in with beauty and suck the life from them with a kiss. It was all I could do not to give in.”

  “You saved my life, then,” Gavin moaned. “Or, I think you did. I must have hit something hard. My head feels like it’s been split with an axe.”

  “If you hit it, I did, too,” Nicholas grumbled. Takeo turned to see the big man on his knees, shaking and holding his head in both hands. “It’s as if I struck myself with my own hammer.”

  “Yuki-onna after effects,” Takeo said, tongue thick in his mouth. “They play with your mind, and not in a good way.”

  Gavin, breathing laboriously, crawled forward through the snow until he was beside Takeo. Krunk was still furthest away, and although Takeo could hear him moaning, the ogre didn’t rise from the snow. He watched Krunk whimper and drool for a few moments before deciding to delegate.

  “Nicholas,” he said. “Check on Krunk.”

  The viking obeyed, crawling on his hands and knees toward the ogre. On the way by, he spat a giant blob of saliva at where the yuki-onna had sunk into the snow.

  “Is that it?” Gavin asked, pointing at the old man. “Please tell me that’s the sennin.”

  Takeo nodded. Speaking was too difficult.

  “Why was the yuki-onna guarding it?” Gavin asked.

  “Don’t know,” Takeo replied.

  “Can it see us?”

  “Don’t know that either.”

  They waited for a few beats, each of them drawing in heavy breaths, like they’d nearly drowned, and swaying on their knees. The sennin never moved, not even a tiny tremor. Even its beard remained unnaturally still.

  Gavin spoke up. “Hey! Can you see us?”

  No answer. No movement.

  “Damn, you try,” Gavin said.

  “Sennin.” Takeo cleared his throat and raised his voice. “Why was there a yuki-onna protecting you?”

  The sennin remained still, but the wind kicked up and whipped at their clothes and hair, bringing a soft voice along with it.

  “To guard against those unworthy.”

  “By the angels, if that’s not as creepy as a vampire’s aura.” Gavin shuddered. “Is that how they all speak?”

  “No idea.” Takeo shrugged. “The last sennin I met didn’t say anything at all. It just hit the ground with a wooden staff. Perhaps each one is different.”

  “Sennin,” Gavin said, bowing his head, “we’ve come searching for answers.”

  “How many poops has Krunk taken!” the ogre shouted in the distance.

  Takeo and Gavin whirled to see Krunk had risen to his hands and knees, with Nicholas lending some assistance. Covered in snow and trembling, the ogre looked on for a few moments while the sennin remained perfectly still. The wind did not stir.

  They all looked at Krunk, Nicholas grinning, but Takeo and Gavin giving disapproving stares. Krunk frowned and looked down, then shuddered and began to vomit. Nicholas’ grip on the ogre tightened to prevent him from falling face first into his own puke.

  “What should we ask first?” Gavin said.

  “I,” Takeo stuttered, “I’m not sure. What do you think?”

  “Sennin,” Gavin called out, opening his arms this time. “We’ve come seeking answers. Should we travel to Savara and capture a rakshasa?”

  They waited several moments. The air remained still.

  “What is this?” Gavin whispered. “It answered you just fine.”

  “That’s because you didn’t slay the yuki-onna,” Takeo said and then smirked. “You are not worthy.”

  Gavin sighed. “Well, get on with it, then. Very important parts of my body are freezing while we wait.”

  Takeo drew in a breath and gathered his thoughts. In the wake of the yuki-onna, he scrambled to put the pieces of his shattered mind back together. He had too much to ask the sennin, far too much about what had happened to Emily, where he should go, what he should do, whom his family was, and what his purpose in this world should be. He tried to narrow it to one single question, but failed miserably and decided to just start by repeating Gavin’s question.

  “Sennin,” Takeo started, bowing low, “my name is Takeo Karaoshi.”

  “I know who you are,” the wind spoke, rushing by them. “I know why you have come. However, do you know why you have come?”

  That made Takeo pause. He hadn’t expected to be asked any questions. However, in light of that, Takeo was pretty sure he knew the answer.

  “We’ve come seeking knowledge,” Takeo pressed. “Should we travel to Savara and capture a rakshasa? Also, who were my parents? What is my past?”

  “Your questions are incomplete, and I will not answer them. You did not answer mine. Do you know why you are here?”

  Takeo thought a moment, licked his chapped lips, and then tried again. “Should we help Lady Xuan?”

  “These questions you’re asking, they do not address the reason you came. I will ask once more: why are you here?”

  Takeo blinked and searched his aching head. When nothing came to mind, he looked over at Gavin.

  “I’m not sure I can help you with this one,” the knight admitted. “I thought we came here for the reasons you stated. Well, actually, I don’t really know why I’m here. I’ve been lost ever since Emily left me heartbroken on Lucifan’s docks.”<
br />
  “I,” Takeo said and then paused, shifting back to the sennin. “I guess I don’t know why I’m here.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  A pillar of wind slammed down on them from above, flattening Takeo and Gavin to the ground. They both shouted out, but their voices were snatched away. As Takeo’s head hit the ground, he saw Nicholas and Krunk skid along the dirt until they caught hold of something and lay down flat. Krunk’s vomit splattered them both.

  The thick fog and snow surrounding the island was swept away, pushed back until it cascaded off the mountain’s edges. Each of them gaped as all around them a waterfall of mist slowly revealed the huge mountaintop, and beyond it, the world.

  When the last cloud of fog rolled off the side of the cliff, the hurricane stopped, and a gentle breeze resumed.

  “Look, Takeo Karaoshi,” the wind said. “Look at the world before you. It stands at a precipice very much the way you do now. There is war all around you, worse than ever you have seen, ushered in by the death of those greater than those who came after. I, however, have seen this all before. Long ago, there was a stable civilization that swept across the land and brought peace to a violent world. To this day, you can see the ruins of that time in the land you call Savara. Were you me, you could still see that era in its prime behind closed eyes. Were you me, you could still hope that such utopia was possible.

  “It is the natural order of things, however, to rise and fall. The angels foolishly attempted to defy this when they created Lucifan. Strong though their will was, nothing is greater than time. In the end, because they would not bend their ideals, time ended them instead. Only one remains, and he has endured a punishment none would envy. This is the fate of all who would stand in the way of change.”

  Takeo felt a tingle rush down his spine as he stared out over the mountain. The air was so clear now, and he was so high up, that he could see both the white tips of the Khaz Mal Mountains to the north and the blue tinge of the sea to the west. It was astounding, and in the back of his mind, he pictured all of it burning in the fiery rage of turmoil.