“Our army is strong, General. You will be victorious.”
Ichiro shook his head and met my eyes again. “There is no way to defeat them…with the army we have.”
“Ichiro-sama, please, you do not understand the danger.”
“Revered Mother, show me, and I will. Please, honor me as your order has honored and blessed my family for generations.”
“I cannot. Apologies, but you ask too much. The line of Emperors decreed it was forbidden.”
“If you withdraw your blessings,” he said, “the Tokugawa Shogunate will fall. The old ways will die. Shrines like this will be forgotten. The future has come, and the Emperor has ordered the decree you mentioned stricken from the law scrolls.”
I pondered his words. Would the world be better served if there was no magic, if the ancient legends were forgotten?
“If we walk all night,” I said, “even one as slow afoot as I could make it to the deepest mountain shrine. I will show you what no living man has seen, and you will understand that another way must be found.” I hoped to convince him the folly of his plan, but to assure the secrets of my order would survive in the mind of Ichiro and his descendants. I should have sent him away as Sora and Mizuumi had.
That is how it began. At that time, we were not aware of how deep our sorrow could become.
~
The early sunlight spilled into the most remote mountain valley of the Akaishi Mountains. I had not been up this way in nearly four years. In that time, the depth of my age had made the journey almost impossible. The hip I had injured in a fall burned like a livid coal within my flesh. My breathing was ragged, my hands numb and with only the barest measure of strength to cling to my walking stick as I struggled up the final switchback.
General Ichiro, for all his upright bearing, had sweat rings beneath his arms, and gritted his teeth against blistered feet. We stood at the end of the path, where there existed no way forward, no method for getting into the vale beyond. No human had ever set foot there. None will, unless there comes a day when my people learn the way of flying, as the gaijin have. Should we master the skies, I hope wisdom enough remains with us to leave some lonely places to themselves, to leave parts of the world untouched by our dirty fingers.
“So, Shinobu-san. I have come all this way. What have you to show me?” He appeared like a man who would very much like to sit down and put his feet into a cool stream.
“Be patient,” I said to him. “You have come far, but grant me a bit more time.”
At the edge, inches from the sheer cliff that terminated the vale on our end, there were two stones, flecked with shimmers of metal and gemstone. I leaned upon them and went to my knees. It took some time to separate myself from the discomfort of my old joints and muscles, to quiet myself enough to enter a state of harmony with the land. When I did, I placed my palms against each ore-stone, closing my eyes and reaching out into the colored vapor of the spirit world.
With eyes shut, I could yet see and sense the potency of the valley, flaring with the impossible rainbow hues tangible eyes cannot sense and our minds have few words to describe. The great dragon was there, the beast that came from the dawning of the world, before the sun had ever risen upon the first man or his works. Touching him could bring my ruin, but my course was set.
“Awaken, Great One,” I spoke into the ways of the spirit. “Arise, Father of the Mountain. Show us what we have forgotten in this, the dawning of a dark day.”
I pleaded, my words shivering down the astral wind until the earth sprits’ whispers were as the sound of a fast-moving stream around me. I was only vaguely aware of my physical body. I had never gone so deep into the other world, never tried so hard to influence it for my own needs. The danger was close and certain. A single hair’s breadth too far, and I would forever be pulled into the spirit world, my physical body falling inert and lifeless. For an old woman with pain in her bones and fear in her heart, it was a tantalizing thought. I resisted the urge to let myself be taken. I had to show Ichiro the danger of trying to bend the Kaiju to our will.
The Earth Dragon stirred, shrugging in his slumber. I pushed harder, beyond the point of fear, further even than I trusted myself to go. Everything in my spirit felt as if it were fog being plucked away by an insistent breeze. I began to lose myself, my rationale for being there. I only remembered that I wanted to see the great Kaiju, wanted to be with it in this place. Within the depths of my heart, it was something I’d always yearned for.
The ground shook. I became aware of my body, an anchor point far back on the mountaintop, miles away. Shale fell away from the sheer surfaces and tumbled downward. Frightened sparrows arose and scattered. A pair of foxes leapt from the bushes and sought sanctuary in their burrow.
Dust burst into the sky. Trees, rocks, and acres of grass sod were displaced, the valley floor peeling back as the body of Ryuujin Sekai arose, the height of a hundred horses, thicker around than the greatest pagoda. His serpentine body had no forelimbs or claws as the artists often drew. His diamond-shaped head was regal and his eyes were immense jade chips, glimmering with intelligence and danger. His maw opened, revealing basalt fangs longer than a man’s height. He arched his neck skyward and released a mighty roar, echoing through the valley. It was as if stones the size of villages were being crushed and ground beneath the weight of a mountain. Even at great distance, it hurt my ears and left me temporarily deafened.
Ryuujin Sekai emerged fully from the dark soil, shaking off dirt and coiling his form beneath him. Every scale upon his sides gleamed like polished granite under the morning light. He was awake and eager to see the world again. I had really done it. Ancestors forgive me, I had awakened a Kaiju.
I saw with two sets of eyes then, for I was inside the Earth Dragon. I watched General Ichiro drop to his knees in awe, his hand covering his mouth, tears touching his cheeks unbidden. The beautiful valley was wrecked in only a moment. I pulled most of my consciousness back into my body and I shouted at Ichiro, “We are not the masters of the Kaiju! Now do you understand the terrible wounds the great dragons will leave upon the land? We cannot control them!” A fraction of the power of Ryuujin Sekai infused my words and the general cowered and turned pale.
I left the puny man and rejoined the Earth Dragon, reveling in the glorious feeling of joining with him fully. Within Ryuujin Sekai, I saw how frail, how insignificant man is, compared to the mighty power of nature. The world is not ours, though we harbor that illusion. We simply visit for a time. The world has always belonged to them.
~
The gaijin airships crowded the skies, their waterborne counterparts belching smoke and steam far below. Kagoshima Bay was filled with the debris of our war galleys and the floating dead. The battle, at least from a military standpoint, was already a disastrous loss. The gaijin allies were merely coordinating their ground assault, isolating the best landing spots, trying to minimize casualties as they took the city and put it to the torch.
General Ichiro’s face was bloodless and haggard, his eyes haunted by the thousands that had been torn apart. As skilled and disciplined as our warriors were, as fine as their steel was honed, it was almost impossible to close with the gaijin. They fought to their strengths, using their fire-bombs, canons, and their rapid-fire guns, which spewed hundreds of lead bullets and cut down our warriors from a distance. Even our superior archers could not match them. When our samurai managed to draw near, the gaijin would retreat, dropping their hulking iron-skinned warriors shaped like giant men from the airships to squash the attack. As tall as a house, the juggernauts annihilated our troops, burning them with jets of flame spewing from their arms. When our soldiers ran away, the juggernauts shot them in their backs. We failed to defeat even one of the metal behemoths.
In a fine house on a hill overlooking the city I waited with Sora and Mizuumi. Their anger at me for showing Ichiro the Earth Dragon had abated somewhat when they saw the gaijin attacking our homeland.
“They drive their machin
es with demon spirits, and care nothing for honor,” Mizuumi whispered while we waited.
General Ichiro Tokugawa entered the room and approached us. He sank to his knees and bowed until his forehead touched the floor. He looked up, and I could see the shame in his eyes. “Please, Revered Grandmothers, in the name of the Empire, I beg for your help.”
Sora and Mizuumi and I had argued about what to do for many days. Mizuumi was the youngest of us—though long past middle-age—but she lived on the coast and was closest to the common people. She often blessed fishermen and many came to her for guidance. Mizuumi favored helping our people, while Sora still pleaded with me to flee and hide in the mountains with her. We would take apprentices and our successors would preserve the ancient secrets.
Mizuumi would not act without my approval and Nippon would survive without our interference. I agreed with Sora until Mizuumi convinced us to look into the spirit world. We found distant shores and saw what had been done by the gaijin to the native people of India, Africa, parts of China, and many other places. Wherever they went, they robbed the land and enslaved the people. I could only look in the past, as the future was closed to me, but I was not certain Nippon would easily endure being conquered by the gaijin.
“Tell the soldiers and all the people of the city to withdraw,” I told General Ichiro, “as much as they are able.”
Ichiro nodded. His assistant disappeared with the urgent message.
Mizuumi looked relieved, while anger flashed across Sora’s wrinkled face. Their help would be essential, as I could not do this alone.
The sound of rapid movement, of people being made to evacuate the streets soon rose up to the terrace we stood upon. We had a commanding view of the sprawling city, the enclosed bay with Mount Ontake beyond guarding the channel. Ichiro-sama handed me the spyglass. I put it to my eye and my heart ached as I saw the devastation more clearly. I passed it to Mizuumi. She shook her head, handing it to Sora, whose hands shook too much for her to hold steady on anything for long.
“Most of this shall be on the sea and in the air. I cannot tell you that there will be much battle upon the land. You can’t know what the gaijin will do, though. Are you ready?” Ichiro looked between us, three women old enough to be his mother, wizened and infirmed. “If we can be saved, only you can do this.”
We bowed, moving to the three prayer mats that had been placed at the edges of the terrace. Sora’s was open to the sky and sun. She stood, looking back at me with pleading eyes. With a word, I could have stopped her, stopped both of them, but I couldn’t. Seeing the might of the foreign navy so close, imagining my people falling prey to them as so many other countries had, I knew that we had to try, regardless of the risk. I nodded at my sister and tried to put on a brave face. Sora knelt, turning her face upward, her crooked, spotted hands at last growing still as she touched the spirit world.
Mizuumi touched the water that was contained in two brass bowls by her side. A sudden, tall wave burst upon the distant beach, the armada of metal ships tossed back and forth as if by a violent storm.
I could look to their preparations no longer. I took my place in the middle prayer mat, the ore-stones beneath my hands, the spirit world’s swirling colors and indistinct boundaries allowing me to feel the deep roots of the earth, the surging of the liquid stone in the depths, the slow grinding movement of mountain ranges being thrust skyward.
And he was there, the Earth Dragon.
I drew closer, and I was swept inexorably into him, until the difference between his mighty form and my own frail one was impossible to find. I was in him, a part of him, and when I opened my eyes, I could see what he saw, feel at least a tiny fraction of what he felt as he lingered in the womb of the earth. Time is as nothing to the mighty Kaiju, and I was lost within him. Lost, until he heard his sister’s scream, the sound of the Air Dragon, Ryuujin Tengoku with her wings ablaze.
~
The Earth Dragon burst upward in the middle of the city, his emergence laying waste to Kagoshima Castle and the surrounding gardens. Above the ground, his serpentine body knifed forward like a cobra, head held upright, neck arched. Every structure in his way shattered as if it were made of coalesced dust, houses exploding into sticks, streets riven, pagodas toppled. The few people who had been unable to evacuate were mostly killed, though some would linger in the rubble until succumbing or being rescued days later. The path of destruction was profound. It was as I feared. Perhaps worse.
Sora had summoned Ryuujin Tengoku, the Air Dragon. She flew over the city and attacked the fleet of airships dropping fire-bombs. She was lithe and pale, a two-headed serpent with a dozen sets of legs along her underside and the wings of a giant falcon. Her clawed feet tore great rips in the bulbous sacks as she strafed them from above. The airships shot at her with canons and repeating guns, but she flew fast and maneuvered away. Ryuujin Tengoku hid in the clouds before diving again. She surprised a slow-moving craft, latched onto it and crashed it into another, causing a massive explosion as the bomb-filled compartments on the underside clanked together. Fiery wrecks soon dotted the coast and sullied the waters of the bay.
Below, the Water Dragon, Ryuujin Toyotama-hime, a leviathan of the deep ocean, leaped upward and landed upon one if their iron ships, breaking it in two. The ship’s innards exploded into a red fireball. Gaijin soldiers, their clothing and hair aflame, tried to swim in the turbulent water. It was no good, each one snuffed out like a candle in a monsoon. The Water Dragon pursued all the fleeing metal ships, tipping them over, tearing out huge holes in their hulls, or pulling the smaller vessels underwater.
Above, the last two remaining airships tangled together, the Air Dragon’s wings caught in their rigging. Ryuujin Tengoku screamed out, a soul-wrenching sound, which had drawn my attention and brought the Earth Dragon from his slumber. The two airships had crashed into her on the orders of their cruel leader who had never tasted defeat, the infamous Admiral Cameron of the Britons. All his dirigibles would be destroyed, but Cameron was determined to make us pay. He found a way to train all the doomed airships’ guns on her, and they opened fire. Blood burst from her, painting both ships red. Alive and in agony, the Air Dragon continued to thrash.
All her legs, all the mighty twisting of her body could not free her. It proved too much for the airships, however. The tangle went spiraling down, trailing blood and fire. A half-dozen of the iron-skinned warriors managed to jump from the burning dirigibles, escaping with their kite-like gliders. Only one headed out over the bay, toward the deck of a distant fleeing ship. The wind did not favor the iron warrior and it splashed into the water, disappearing in an instant.
The other metal-skinned giants spiraled like leaves on the wind over Ryuujin Tongoku and the intertwined airships. The dirigibles and the mortally wounded Air Dragon hit the beach with crushing force. At the crash site, I saw the flash a few seconds before I heard the titanic explosion. A drumbeat later, I could feel the wash of heat from the blast even through the rocky hide of the Kaiju, whose perception I shared.
The Earth Dragon surged forward, hitting the burning wreckage like a hundred elephants, pushing it into the waves to douse the flames. He tore at the dirigibles, biting through timber and iron as if it were tender flesh. He somehow extricated his sister’s form, blackened and unmoving, pulling her onto the beach.
She was gone. Such profound sadness, such unspeakable wrath filled the Kaiju that it was all I could do to hang on, to survive without losing my sanity. The Earth Dragon tried to move outward into the water, but he could not. His strength ended at the tide-line, but there was no controlling him. He turned upon what was left of Kagoshima to vent his fury. At the same moment, the few surviving iron-skinned warriors landed on the beach. They detached their gliders and, with the lumbering speed of a sumo wrestler, tried to flee from the raging Earth Dragon.
Ryuujin Sekai sped toward them, bellowing his fury. The juggernauts managed only a few strides before the slowest was bitten in half. A bleeding human torso fel
l out of the metal shell, proving men drove the machines and not demons. I learned later that Admiral Cameron himself was among them, piloting the iron warrior painted with red and white crosses in the style of the hated British flag. Determined to fight, Cameron rallied the half-dozen surviving juggernauts and faced the Earth Dragon. The man-shaped machines fired hundreds of explosive bullets from their arm cannons at his eyes. Ryuujin Sekai recoiled from the furious attack, injured and bleeding, but the foreigners’ ammunition soon ran out.
The Earth Dragon struck with the force of an avalanche, his massive body dwarfing the enemies arrayed before him as he threatened to plow them into the beach sand. Plumes of flame erupted from the juggernauts’ arms in a final effort, but Ryuujin Sekai’s skin was impervious to fire. He crushed half of them into the ground, burying them alive. He flung one into the bay with a flick of his tail. Only Admiral Cameron was left alive. The British warrior stood resolute in his garishly painted metal machine.
The Earth Dragon struck at him. The foreigner stabbed Ryuujin Sekai in the mouth, but Admiral Cameron and his machine were crushed by the massive jaws and swallowed.
The Earth Dragon unleashed his boundless rage on the city then, for his desire for vengeance was unquenched.
What few glimpses I caught of the battle upon the sea were the same. The Water Dragon had gone berserk. A few of the attacking ships managed to slip away, but most of them were reduced to splinters and oil spots on the frothing sea.
The sky darkened. Wind whipped across the battlefield. Black rain fell. It seemed as if the world was unraveling, the sensible nature of the elements unhinged, distorted. I was merely an observer, a tick burrowed into the hide of a mighty animal gone insane. I saw him raze Kagoshima to its foundations, leaving nothing untouched.
After hours of the worst struggle of my life, I was finally able to calm the Earth Dragon enough to send him to rest in the womb of earth. Late in the afternoon I came fully back to myself on the terrace at the house overlooking the smoking remains of Kagoshima. General Ichiro stood nearby. His uniform was bloodstained and covered with ash. He heard me stirring and turned. His eyes were pained and hollow. Sora’s and Mizuumi’s prayer mats were empty. Droplets of blood still lingered where Sora had knelt when she perished along with the Air Dragon. I knew she had died hours ago, and her body had already been removed. Sora had wanted no part of this and now she was dead. My guilt strangled me slowly as Ichiro helped me stand. Where was Mizuumi? Was she too distraught to have remained or had she accompanied Sora’s body?
Kaiju Rising: Age of Monsters Page 26
