by Ryan Kirk
The sound of the sword fighting rang through the clear, crisp air of the early evening. Without any warning, silence fell over the field, a sacred silence denoting that this field would forever grow over the graves of men.
The silence stretched on and on, but no one called for her, no one came for her. It must have only been moments, but each breath felt like she had lived an entire lifetime. Still nothing. She knew the smart action was to hide deeper in the grass, to make herself as invisible as possible, but she could not do it. She had to know what happened, how the story ended.
She picked her way to edge of the cabin, trying to make as little noise as possible in case one of their enemies was nearby. She crouched down low and moved her head out into the open. Almost immediately she saw Shigeru standing next to an opponent. Although they had never met she knew this man was Orochi. He was one of the largest men Takako had ever seen, and he was built like an outcropping of rock. One glance and she knew they were doomed.
From her vantage point she couldn’t see Ryuu. There was no evidence of a battle anywhere in her field of view, and she assumed the battle had happened separate from the match before her. She would have to move further out from the cabin to see the result.
She dreaded the worst. If Ryuu had won, he would be near her, or by Shigeru helping him fight Orochi. The only explanation that made any sense was that he had lost or was unable to move, severely injured. Takako wasn’t sure she was up to trying to heal him. Blood and guts had never been her thing.
The movement of swords brought her attention back to matters at hand. Even having watched Shigeru and Ryuu spar, she could never believe the full speed of these men fighting.
She didn’t expect it to end so suddenly. In all the adventures she had read the battle waged for what felt like an eternity. Perhaps to those who were fighting, it was true. For Takako, watching the battle, it seemed to go by much faster than she could process it. They moved so fast she couldn’t have said at any point in time if someone was winning or losing.
It took her a moment to understand why the fighting had stopped. They had been moving so fluidly, so quickly, it was difficult to understand how it all just ended. It took one of the last rays of the sun striking the scene to illuminate Takako’s mind. She saw the glint of the sword in Shigeru’s back. He had been run through, the point of the sword sticking straight through his back.
Takako’s mind raced and she couldn’t grasp onto any one thought. There was the shock of the defeat. Her time with Shigeru and Ryuu had made her a believer, a believer that these two men were the strongest fighters that existed. The belief was punctured by the sword through Shigeru’s torso. There was the fear. She still didn’t see Ryuu anywhere, and she assumed he had met the same fate as his mentor. It meant she was next. If Orochi was still alive he could find her anywhere. There was no way to hide from him, no way to hide from anyone with the sense.
She breathed, trying to hold on to one consistent thought, something she could wrap her mind around. Unbidden, a memory sprang to the forefront of her mind. Sharing candy with her father in New Haven. She hadn’t understood it then, but that was the hardest thing he had ever done. She remembered the sadness in his face. She wondered if he had changed, if he had paid his debts and solved his gambling problem. It was pleasant to think he had.
The grasp of a familiar hand on her shoulder shook her out of her reverie. It was Ryuu, motioning her towards two of the horses that were now riderless. Takako’s peaceful reverie had been interrupted so quickly it took her a moment to process that he was still alive, and although he was covered with blood, he was moving without hesitation or any faltering in his step. He was apparently unharmed, or at least not anything serious.
Without the ability to process what was happening, she followed his lead out onto the horses. She took a glance at Orochi, who was watching them but not moving. She saw a glint of steel and saw he too had been impaled. She dared to hope, but Ryuu’s attitude led her to believe their plight wasn’t over. They were on the horses and moving before she could ask any questions.
The evening was cold, and Takako was not dressed for riding. The dry wind cut through her thin clothes. Ryuu didn’t stop to check on her, so lost in his own thoughts. She refused to complain, enduring the long cold ride in silence. Eventually they stopped deep in some woods.
As they were setting up camp Takako got her first glance at Ryuu since the farmhouse. His face showed clear signs he had been crying, but he was doing his best to stay strong. Takako elected not to mention it, nor offer any overt signs of sympathy. Instinctively, she knew that even though comfort was what he needed most, it was also what he would least accept.
In short order Ryuu got a small fire started which Takako huddled close to. She could have jumped into the fire. Shooting pains emanated from her extremities as they warmed up from the edge of frostbite. She didn’t understand how Ryuu could be warm, but he maintained a safe distance from the fire, or perhaps it was a safe distance from her.
In the flickering firelight, Takako was reminded just how young Ryuu was. He had only seen seventeen cycles, and although he had killed numerous times, he was still a stranger to the horror of warfare. He had been raised by a man trying to protect him from the world. She wasn’t much older, but was more aware of the filth of the world. The actions one person took towards another no longer surprised her.
As the fire continued to burn Ryuu remained silent. Takako thought about going to him and trying to hold him, but his attitude encouraged no kindness and she wasn’t disposed to dispense it either. She found out Shigeru had been a rock for her, a shield to protect her from Ryuu’s emotions. How would he behave now that his master, his father, was dead? She wasn’t sure she should stay to find out.
Despite her indecision it did not take long for the events of the past day to catch up to her. She put her head down and was asleep in a heartbeat.
When she awoke Ryuu was still awake, tending to the fire. Looking around, Takako saw it was mid-afternoon already. Considering she had fallen asleep sometime just before dawn, she had slept for quite a while, which explained why she felt so well-rested.
Ryuu looked the opposite. He had visible bags under his eyes and Takako could see the evidence of tears still on his cheeks. She thought he might fall into the fire at any time. He hadn’t slept at all. It occurred to her that he hadn’t slept at all the night previous either. He had kept the watch all night so Shigeru could get as much rest as possible before the fight. Today was his third full day without sleep.
Takako didn’t know what to say. She knew they would be traveling through the night. It was the same pattern they had followed when they were on the run from the army’s search. It would mean another night without sleep for Ryuu, but she knew without having to ask him about it they had to keep moving.
As evening came they broke their impromptu camp and got back on the horses. Takako worried about what was coming. She needed to know what was next, what their plan was, whether or not Ryuu wanted to talk about it.
“Ryuu, where are we going?”
He turned towards her as if dazed. She began to wonder, not for the first time since waking, if he was any use to her at all in this state.
“There are some thick woods, very uninhabited, about two days’ ride northwest of here. Shigeru told me about them once when I was young. It’s a very old wood, it will protect us.”
His answer did little to reassure her. An old wood would protect them? It sounded like Ryuu was beginning to believe in old wives’ tales and myths created to scare children from going into the woods. Perhaps he was too tired to be able to lead them. Could she come up with a better plan?
But then she realized she had been living in an old wives’ tale for several moons now. She had accepted the fact that nightblades did in fact exist. She sometimes forgot they had been nothing but legends to her a cycle ago.
They rode through the night, Takako keeping a close eye on Ryuu. He was slumped on his horse, doing
little more than pointing it in a general direction and holding on. Eventually she rode in front of him and tied the bridle of his horse onto the back of her saddle, guiding both horses as he struggled to stay awake.
To her amazement he made it through the night, and as dawn began to break they found another well-hidden spot where they could build a fire without being seen. Ryuu started to move around again, a short, desperate burst of energy to help Takako set up their camp. It was late fall, and even though the days were still somewhat warm, they needed a fire if they were to sleep comfortably.
Ryuu helped get the fire started, lay down and promptly fell asleep. Takako was surprised he had lasted as long as he had. Three straight days he had been up with no food. The thought of food made her stomach growl in anger, but she managed to suppress it. If Ryuu slept through the day, he would wake up able to hunt and catch food. It would be another day, but she would be fine. Despite the hunger pains and the headaches, she knew her body wouldn’t give out before then.
Throughout the day Takako kept the fire going and found handfuls of late-season berries scattered around. She ate about half of what she found, which didn’t help ease her hunger at all, but still seemed better than nothing. She left the rest for Ryuu when he awoke.
He didn’t stir until it was well past dusk. Takako had decided for both of them they weren’t going to move this night. They needed time to rest, to recover, to decide what was next. They needed sleep and food. Ryuu was initially upset that she hadn’t woken him up earlier, but she stood by her decision, and he came to her way of thinking.
Ryuu went out hunting and came back with two rabbits which were promptly skinned and cooked. Ryuu reminded her to eat just a bit at a time, which was excellent advice. She filled up fast, and it was only then she brought herself to ask the questions which had been on her mind since the hut.
Ryuu told her what had happened, how the soldiers and Orochi had come and how he had managed to take out the five soldiers with little difficulty. But when he got to the battle between Orochi and Shigeru, he faltered. Takako remained silent, allowing him to tell the story at his own pace.
“I couldn’t do it. Every single fiber in my body wanted nothing but to go help Shigeru, but I couldn’t move. It was like I had stood still for just a breath too long and roots had grown out of my feet. I’ve tried to rationalize it a hundred ways since then. I don’t know if I was scared or if it was something else. I can’t even tell if it was fear that rooted me in place. But when Shigeru needed me, I sat back and watched him die.”
“You can’t think like that, Ryuu. It will do you no good.”
Something broke in Ryuu. “But you don’t understand. Everything … everything that has happened has been my fault. Because of my actions, your family and everyone who you cared for is dead. Shigeru, the man who gave me everything, is also dead because of what I did. Everyone I care about, everyone I’ve tried to help, has only ended up dying. If not for me, everyone would be happy and alive right now.”
Takako wanted to tell him it would be okay. She wanted to tell him he was right, that he had done the right thing. A part of her respected this boy who had sacrificed everything because he had felt she was wronged. But images of her family flashed through her mind and she couldn’t offer the comfort he needed. His actions had killed her family.
She watched in silence as Ryuu struggled through the consequences of his actions. Part of her wanted him to suffer, but part wanted to come to his aid. She hadn’t ever felt so torn about her actions before. Her hopeful side won out, just as it always did.
“I forgive you.” The words hurt to say, but for a moment she believed them. She couldn’t forget, but she could forgive.
A sudden glint of fire sparked in Ryuu’s eyes. “I love you,” he burst.
Takako held her laughter. Those three words had been uttered often at Madame’s, and such men were often the object of ridicule when they were gone. Ryuu had never sounded more like a seventeen-cycle boy. She shook her head. “I know you do.”
She stood up and kissed him gently on the forehead. She saw the spark of lust in his eyes, and just for a moment she knew he was thinking of taking her. He had the strength to. She wasn’t even sure she’d struggle. But he didn’t, and more than anything, that won her over. She embraced him for a moment and went to bed.
Takako awoke to the sound of movement nearby. It was Ryuu just waking up.
That morning they packed up camp, and on the surface everything regained an air of normalcy. Ryuu acted more confident. He had made his plan and could take action.
The next two days went as smooth as running and hiding could go. Ryuu would range far and wide, often leaving the second horse to Takako's care. He would hunt, bring back small game and plants to eat. Takako used the skills she had learned to make the best meals possible considering the circumstances.
Takako attempted to keep a respectful distance from Ryuu. She was uncertain of everything between them and felt it was best not to encourage any affection more than necessary. For his part, Ryuu seemed content not to make any approaches.
As they traveled, Takako realized Ryuu had been right. The forest they were entering was an old forest. They came to areas where the trees grew well above their heads. Ryuu would stop often to rest and to meditate. Takako asked him about it once.
"This forest is more alive than most places I have been. Small animals, birds, the trees release a strong energy. When I sit and meditate, I can sense it all. This place is old, but it is more alive than a city."
Takako begrudgingly admitted that she understood what Ryuu was talking about. Even though she didn't possess the sense there was an atmosphere about this place, an energy she didn't understand but was comforted by. She could see why Ryuu would choose this spot as an area to recuperate.
Just before they entered the heart of the forest, they came upon a small home. There was one family inside, a tree-harvester and his family. Takako was surprised Ryuu had come up to them and didn't work his way around them, but it made more sense when he went to the house and requested to trade. He had skins, some hard-to-find healing plants, and some meat, and was able to trade for a number of necessities for surviving the winter months.
His purchases made Takako wonder how long they were planning on staying in the forest. She had assumed that at most they would be in hiding for a moon as they figured out what their long-term plan would be. It looked like Ryuu might be planning to stay for longer than that. It made her wonder what she would do next.
21
Moriko was concerned. It had been several moons since Orochi left and there hadn't been a whisper in the monastery regarding his return. Despite her complex relationship with him she found she missed his guidance. When he was present she had a purpose. Since his departure she had wavered many times, unsure of the path she was choosing.
Moriko couldn't decide how she felt about the monastery. It perpetrated great harm. The monks took children away from their families forever. It was run by an abbot obsessed with increasing his political power. And power always attracted sycophantic demons like Goro.
But there were others, and as Moriko struck up conversations with them she discovered a different side to the monastery. No one was overjoyed by having been taken from their families, but many of them believed it was a necessary evil.
When Moriko questioned people about this the answer was always the same. The monks were the first line of defense against the nightblades and the repositories of knowledge and order in the Three Kingdoms. It was a sacrifice, but a sacrifice for the Three Kingdoms. The benefit was worth the cost.
Moriko wasn’t convinced the nightblades were as evil as they were portrayed. Orochi was one. She was as well. She didn’t think she was any more evil than the next person.
There was something to be said for being the repository of knowledge and order in the kingdom. Moriko never would have been taught to read outside the monastery, never would have learned the true history of the Kingdom.
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Maybe the kingdom needed the monasteries as it moved into the future. Yes, there were evil people here, but there were evil people everywhere, and it wasn’t fair to judge the whole monastery by the actions of the few she hated.
While her thoughts on the monastery fluctuated, her thoughts on Goro and the Abbot never did. Moriko could already see the Abbot's plan. Goro had almost been prancing towards her when he told her the news. He had been personally selected to oversee the training of Aina. The Abbot believed Aina possessed special powers and Goro was the only one in the monastery capable bringing these powers to fruition. Goro might as well have claimed that the sun was brown.
The Abbot wanted her gone, killed most likely, but he couldn't do that without fear of consequence. She was Orochi's student, and Orochi reported to Akira, who could have the monastery razed while the monks slept comfortably inside. So long as she did no wrong, she was untouchable.
The plan was obvious, but Goro had no idea. The poor man believed everything the Abbot said. Some days Moriko wondered if the Abbot was hoping she would kill Goro.
The problem was Moriko wasn't sure the Abbot wouldn't succeed even though she saw it coming. She was on edge day after day. Goro was cruel to Aina, even to the point of the other monks bringing their concern to the Abbot. But the Abbot fed them all the same story. Goro was chosen because he was uniquely qualified to reach this girl. The monks did nothing to stop the physical and mental abuse Goro gladly heaped upon the young girl. The Abbot’s word was final. Moriko was the only example any aspiring monk needed.
One unintended consequence of the Abbot's decision was that it helped bring Moriko back into the fold of the monastery. Several monks came to her to talk about Goro's training. There seemed to be some sort of unspoken belief that Moriko would be able to do something about it.
