by Ryan Kirk
Starfall was silent. Asa had heard no news from the city of blades, and she didn’t expect to. Anyone could see that no news from the blades could cool the rage of the Kingdom. She imagined the council would call the blades home soon, if they hadn’t already.
Asa had gotten a glance at Minori as a group of guards paraded him around the camps. He was declared as the mastermind behind the burning of the palace and of the city, a nightblade who had plotted to have Shin killed right after he became king. The older nightblade was cut and bloody, and Asa was surprised he had lived through whatever fight he had been in. He was tied with rope to a wooden beam and displayed for all to see. Angry citizens threw rocks at him, and the guards did nothing but protect themselves.
No love was lost for Minori in Asa’s heart, but even she had a hard time accepting the fate he endured. He would be vilified for all time as a traitorous nightblade. Flyers spread about his execution a few days away. Asa decided she wanted to be far, far away when that happened.
After everything that had happened, Asa had thought she would feel different, as though she had accomplished something. But all she found in her heart was emptiness.
Daisuke’s mood improved after he drank his sorrows away. He still spoke little to her, but Asa was far less afraid of being killed by him now. That moment had passed. He wore his sorrow like a cloak, and he told her he planned on returning to Keiko. Together they would find land, and Daisuke would give up his swords for good.
Asa had already decided what she was going to do, although it could possibly best be described as “nothing.” She was going to pack everything up again and wander. She had never considered what life would be like after killing Osamu, and part of her realized that she had always thought she would die completing her task. Kiyoshi could have killed her, but he had taken the easy path away from her. She would have to walk another path, and she was in no hurry. She would walk the roads, and if she could, would help others as she was able. This was, perhaps, a small homage to Kiyoshi and his values. Daisuke approved.
After two days of hunting, she finally found enough wood for a proper pyre.
While Asa worked to find the wood, Daisuke had taken responsibility for preparing the bodies, but the way of the blades was a simple one. He cleaned the remains of both Kiyoshi and Masaki and dressed them in the nicest clothes they had, which, given their circumstances, wasn’t much. When they were done and evening had fallen, Asa helped him carry the bodies out of the village to the pyre she had built.
At night, the fire that consumed the last parts of Haven lit up the cloudy night sky. Although she had had nothing to do with the fire, she felt a wave of guilt wash over her. She turned her eyes away to face the fire Daisuke was about to light.
He glanced at her. “Do you have any final words?”
Dozens ran through her mind, from anger to compassion, but none of them encapsulated how she felt. They were all dirty reflections. She shook her head.
Daisuke lit the pyre and stepped back.
“Masaki, you were a king who stood for the people, and for that, you will always have my respect. You deserved better, but I hope you find this acceptable.”
He paused, and Asa could see a tear forming on his otherwise stony face.
“Kiyoshi, you were the best man I ever knew. Thank you, not just for sparing my life, but for teaching me how to live. I know you said otherwise, but I owe you a debt I can never repay. From this day on, I will try to live in such a way that I am worthy of the honor you showed me.”
Despite the icy shield over her heart, Daisuke’s warm words stabbed into her, and Asa was torn into shreds. The tears started to fall, and she sank to her knees in the fresh snow. Words weren’t enough anymore. Daisuke watched but didn’t offer any comfort. The pyre burned as the moon crawled across the sky, and even though its heat scorched at her skin, Asa was frozen in place.
When the sun rose, the last remnants of the pyre were burning themselves out. Kiyoshi and Masaki, two of the most influential men in the Kingdom a few moons ago, were gone for good, their spirits joining the Great Cycle together.
Daisuke turned to leave, and suddenly, Asa felt alone. More alone than she had ever felt in all her cycles of hunting for Osamu. “Daisuke!”
He turned to her call, and Asa realized she didn’t know what she wanted to say. Their eyes met, and Asa wanted to apologize, to say she was sorry for taking away his best friend and mentor. But she couldn’t. A part of her was sorry, but the greater part of her knew the truth: She had accomplished exactly what she set out to do. To apologize to Daisuke was to lie to him, and that she wouldn’t do. She wanted to comfort him but didn’t know how.
In the end, she couldn’t get any words out. She just looked at him, pleading with him silently. A wind gusted across the plains, throwing up snow between them. For a moment, she worried when the snow cleared that he would be gone, but her fears were unrealized. Instead, he remained where he was, giving her a small bow. When he straightened up, a slight smile was on his face, a smile he couldn’t hold on to for very long.
Asa bowed in return, pressing her forehead to the ground. She understood, and she felt his forgiveness. When she sat back up, Daisuke was gone.
Asa knelt there in the snow for a while, the last embers of the pyre keeping her warm. The sun rose completely above the horizon, and although Asa couldn’t explain why, she felt an ease, a weight falling off her shoulders. It wasn’t happiness, but perhaps contentment.
Asa stood up, feeling the stretch throughout her body. She checked to make sure her swords were still attached and looked off into the distance. She needed to walk, perhaps farther than she ever had before. But she was ready.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
It is often said and always true that a book is always the work of many people. I would be remiss if I didn’t give credit where it was due.
First thanks always need to go to my family, who tolerate and even encourage this obsession of mine. They gave up nights and weekends and made tremendous sacrifices for me, and I appreciate it.
Thanks to Bryce, my partner in crime over at Waterstone Media. Without his help, there is no way I would have finished this novel.
A special acknowledgment to Adrienne, who patiently waited for drafts and brought this story into the light. I’m always grateful for her hard work.
Thanks also to Clarence, who spent many late hours helping me turn a draft into a story.
And finally, to the entire team at 47North, who all worked diligently to make this story come alive. Thank you.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ryan Kirk is the author of the Nightblade series of fantasy novels and the founder of Waterstone Media. He was an English teacher and nonprofit consultant before diving into writing full-time in 2015. For more information about Ryan, visit his website at www.waterstonemedia.net.
