Nightblade Boxed Set

by Ryan Kirk

  Moriko thought for a moment. The tribe seemed to value honesty. “I will give my word I will not bring harm to your people while I am here, and that I shall follow whatever instructions I am given, so long as they don’t endanger me or my mission.”

  “Good enough. I will speak to you when I can.”

  Moriko nodded and stepped out of the tent, where Lobsang was waiting patiently for her. She was surrounded by thousands of Azarians. She hoped she knew what she was doing. A single mistake now would cost her her life.

  17

  In the time since he arrived on the island, Ryuu had settled into the daily patterns of life. He had requested what training the island had to offer, and his request had been granted. Every morning he and the other nightblades trained in physical combat. They would break for a light lunch, and then they would mix with dayblades and train in different mental aspects of the sense. It was most often guided meditations, and Ryuu’s more impulsive nature strained against the discipline of the afternoons. He recognized the importance of what he was learning, but it was difficult for him to calm his mind with so much happening.

  In the evenings, Ryuu sometimes questioned why he had come to the island. Once the shock of discovering such a large enclave of blades had worn off, he’d slipped into a new type of routine. Yes, he was learning, but he didn’t feel he was learning the skills he had come to learn. More than anything, he had come to gain strength, but there was little here anyone seemed able to teach him. They were strong warriors, better than any swordsman in the Three Kingdoms, but when Ryuu snapped, they all fell to his practice blade. He had hoped to learn why he snapped and if it could be controlled, but none of his instruction addressed his problem. It was all general combat training, old news to him.

  The difference between Ryuu and the blades on the island was that Ryuu had been in real combat. He had killed, and most of the nightblades he trained against had only fought with wooden swords. It seemed like a subtle difference, but it was a difference that changed the dynamics of their practice matches. Ryuu struck harder and didn’t have any rules. He struck exposed flesh, understanding that if he didn’t in training, he would hesitate in an actual battle. It was the manner in which Shigeru had trained him, and it was the method he held to everyday. The people he fought against practiced almost as an academic exercise. They didn’t train as though they would see real combat. Ryuu trained to fight because his life depended upon it.

  One morning started out the same as all the rest. Ryuu was paired against two nightblades who were to practice coordinating their attacks. Although it wasn’t said aloud, it was obvious Ryuu’s job was to prove once again that he could fight multiple nightblades. The idea was simple: Disrupt their attacks and take out the weaker opponent as soon as possible. If you let them coordinate, you deserved to get beaten. Ryuu held his wooden practice blade in a comfortable grip. He wasn’t worried about the two opponents in front of him.

  The two nightblades moved in, each taller and older than Ryuu. They had more training, but neither had seen real combat. He had observed each of them in the past, and he knew what they were capable of. They didn’t have a chance. They came in at him, perfectly synchronized with one another. If Ryuu had remained in place, it would have been hard to stop them, but he drifted towards the one on his right, forcing the one on his left to adjust. Ryuu kept moving, deflecting a hastily aimed strike from the nightblade on the right.

  He sensed the one on the left attempting to get in position. He had to act quickly, before his opponent succeeded. The nightblade on the right was off-balance from his deflected strike, and Ryuu stepped inside his guard. Ryuu drove the hilt of his sword into the gut of his off-balance opponent. It wasn’t enough to do more than stun him, but it was enough time for Ryuu to rip the sword from his hands. He grabbed his opponent’s hilt and twisted, snapping it out of his hand and taking it for his own. He turned to meet the incoming strike from the nightblade who had started on his left and smashed it aside. If Ryuu had only had one blade, it would have left him terribly open, but he kept turning and followed with a strike from his new second blade. The nightblade saw it coming, but couldn’t react in time. Ryuu felt the wooden sword smash against his opponent with a satisfying crunch.

  He turned to the second nightblade, who was recovering and trying to decide what to do without a sword. Ryuu looked into his eyes and saw a man who knew he couldn’t get past Ryuu’s defenses. He bowed, and Ryuu returned it in equal measure. Another day and he had taught these isolated nightblades something new once again. He tossed the stolen wooden sword back to his opponent. He hadn’t even snapped. Ryuu looked around at the assembled nightblades and was surprised to sense Tenchi in the crowd. It wasn’t often he attended training sessions.

  Tenchi seemed thoughtful, but he pointed to a nightblade who had been hovering on the fringes of the crowd. The nightblade would be the oldest Ryuu had fought since coming to the island. Until this point, he had only fought nightblades about his age or younger. As the older nightblade worked his way to the center of the circle, Tenchi spoke.

  “Ryuu, you come to us with great strength, and in terms of pure swordsmanship, you are probably the best on the island right now. I thank you, for you have reminded our young nightblades they still have much to learn. But a fight with a sword is not always won by the individual with the greatest skill with the sword. There is always more. As you have taught our young students a lesson, now one of our more experienced warriors will teach you one as well. It seems like a fair trade,” Tenchi smiled, his mirth obvious, “and it is a lesson many of our young nightblades are excited to observe.”

  Ryuu examined his opponent. He had probably seen forty cycles, and he looked strong, but Ryuu couldn’t see anything about him to fear. He was far less intimidating in stature than Orochi. Ryuu tried to remind himself not to underestimate his opponents, but he had yet to be impressed by anyone on the island. There was no reason why this should be any different.

  They bowed to each other, and the older nightblade waited patiently for Ryuu to come to him. Ryuu sighed. He preferred not striking the first blow, but his patience was thin. He was beginning to wonder if there was anything related to combat he would learn on the island. Approaching with caution, he struck several times, but each time his blow was turned away easily by the nightblade he faced. Good. Ryuu knew he was fighting someone with some skill then. He increased the speed and complexity of his attacks, and their wooden blades began an intricate dance in the air, whipping into each other with quick cracks that echoed throughout the island.

  In the background, he saw they were attracting a crowd. Ryuu had to admit this was the most impressive fight he had been in since coming to the island. They passed each other multiple times, neither one getting the opening they were looking for. Ryuu was starting to sweat. He kept attacking with more power and more speed, but every time it was as though the nightblade he was facing was a step ahead of him.

  Ryuu was caught off-guard when the nightblade switched from defending himself to attacking. Ryuu gave up ground slowly and intentionally. He was able to keep up, but he felt himself slipping more and more behind in the battle. It would only be a couple of moments before he broke under the onslaught.

  He felt the snap coming, and when it did, the tide of the battle turned again. Ryuu went on the offensive, but even with the world moving in slow motion, the nightblade in front of him kept up. The momentum of the battle turned over and over again in the space of a heartbeat, and Ryuu fought against his own surprise. He’d never been matched when he snapped. Even the hunters who had almost killed him and Moriko had eventually fallen under his increased speed, strength and foresight. But this nightblade kept matching Ryuu, no matter how fast or how hard he struck. Ryuu felt like he was being played with, like the nightblade was teasing his strength.

  Ryuu was right. In front of him, the nightblade exploded into action. Ryuu’s mind was flooded with an impossible amount of information. There was no way anyone could move as f
ast as the man in front of him was moving. For the first time in many cycles, Ryuu didn’t know how to meet an attacker. He retreated backwards, taking a few glancing blows and deflecting some at the last possible moment.

  It was inconceivable, and his mind could barely keep up, much less his body. He was on the retreat, stumbling over himself to get out of the way. When the nightblade finally slipped past his defense it was dramatic, a strike coming in that Ryuu had no hope of blocking. He could sense it, but even snapped he couldn’t block in time. The sword struck Ryuu’s left forearm with tremendous force, and Ryuu felt the bones of his arm crack as he dropped his wooden blade.

  Time, pain and sensation all came rushing back to Ryuu with tremendous force, and he almost fainted from the noise of pain which permeated all his thoughts. He had never broken a bone before, much less two. His heart sank and filled with rage. He was a warrior, and a warrior with only one good arm was no use at all. Everything he was had been taken away in a moment.

  Ryuu watched in mute horror as he tried to flex his left wrist and hand, all to no avail. The pain in his arm was intense, a fire burning, centered in his arm. But the physical pain was dwarfed by his mental anguish. If he couldn’t fight, if he wasn’t a nightblade, what else was there for him? It was all he had known since he was five years old and Shigeru rescued him.

  The crowd dispersed. They had been entertained by the fight, but now that their champion had demonstrated his superiority, there was little left to interest them. Ryuu didn’t understand. Couldn’t they see they had destroyed him? How could they walk away as if nothing had happened? His rage swallowed his despair whole.

  Tenchi came near and Ryuu looked up at him with hatred. Tenchi was the man responsible. He may not have swung the sword, but he had given the command. Ryuu looked at Tenchi and saw nothing but a slight mirth, inflaming his rage all the more. He could barely control himself. “Look what you’ve done to me! I’ll never swing a sword again!” The words came out in an angry whisper.

  Tenchi’s look changed from humored to surprised. “I’m sorry, Ryuu, I’d forgotten that you didn’t grow up on this island. Some days it seems like you’ve been here forever.” He motioned for another blade to approach. Ryuu glanced at the young man. He seemed no different than anyone else, and he wondered what Tenchi was hiding from him.

  “Ryuu, give him your arm.”

  Despite his anger, Tenchi’s calm voice and command wrung obedience out of him. Without question he raised his arm to show it to the young blade. The man frowned and glanced at Tenchi. “It’s a bad break. Should we give him something?”

  Tenchi looked at Ryuu. “This young man is going to heal your arm. If you like, I can have a liquid prepared which will help numb the pain. The healing process is quite intense. I might recommend it to you.”

  Ryuu glared at Tenchi. “I’ll be fine.”

  Tenchi shrugged his shoulders. The mirth had returned to his eyes. “It’s your decision. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Ryuu was distracted by his anger at Tenchi, and he didn’t even feel the warmth spreading through his arm right away. The young man was brushing Ryuu’s arm rapidly, barely touching it with his right hand. Ryuu couldn’t understand what he was feeling. His arm was warm, and with a sudden motion, the young man jerked on Ryuu’s arm in a precise motion. Ryuu could feel the bones snapping back into place and he screamed out in surprise. Tears streamed down his face as he fought to control his reaction. The young man clasped Ryuu’s arm with an unbreakable grip, sending cold spikes of pain up and down Ryuu’s spine. But as the dayblade held him, Ryuu could feel something happening, something he couldn’t understand. The warmth permeated his arm again, mixing blinding pain with a surprising serenity.

  Ryuu tried to keep his focus. Everything became a blur as his sense became internal. What he experienced was indescribable. He could sense his arm coming back together as though nothing had happened, as though time was somehow being turned backwards. Ryuu could feel the young man grasping his arm, and he could tell it was the will of the young man creating the change in his arm. And then his sense got tangled up in the young man’s will, and Ryuu felt his entire body fill with the lightness of the sun. He felt at peace for the first time since Shigeru had died. He didn’t even realize how distraught he’d been.

  Ryuu drifted further and further, the tendrils of his sense filling with light and order. He understood. He was locked in the will of the young man grasping his arm. Dayblade. The word came unbidden to his mind, but he knew what he was experiencing. Ryuu had known about them, met plenty of them around the island, but he hadn’t placed any stock in their abilities. Ryuu understood the young man’s focus, but at the same time he was lost. Everything became an unbearable brightness and his world went white.

  When Ryuu came to, he knew days had passed. He also knew he wasn’t alone. He sat up and realized with a start that his arm didn’t hurt at all. It moved through its full range of motion without a problem. It was as good as it had ever been. He looked down at his arm in astonishment. He could have sworn it had been broken. Had he dreamed the entire event?

  Tenchi looked over at him with an air of concern. Ryuu wondered for a moment about the government of the island. Tenchi was the head of all blades, but he rarely had much to do. Ryuu had expected that the head of the island would be much busier.

  Tenchi glanced at him. “I believe I owe you an apology. Please, there is some fresh water on the table beside you. Drink slowly.”

  Ryuu didn’t need to be told twice. He sipped at the water, resisting the strong urge to gulp it all down at once.

  “How long have I been out?”

  “A little over a day.”

  Ryuu nodded. Not as bad as he had expected.

  “He was a dayblade, wasn’t he?”

  “Yes. I apologize. I forget that in the Three Kingdoms there are no dayblades. You thought your injury more debilitating than we do here. It is my oversight. I forget not everyone has grown up knowing the truth of what we are capable of.”

  Ryuu nodded. He understood now why people hadn’t seemed to care when his arm was broken.

  “Do you know how he did it? He told me you turned your senses onto him. You should know, it made his job much harder.”

  Ryuu shook his head. “It was as though he was bringing order back to my body. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

  “You’re not that far off. You’re familiar with the lines of force that run through the world?”

  Tenchi’s tone indicated he believed it to be a rhetorical question. He was surprised when Ryuu shook his head no.

  Tenchi sighed. “For one so talented, it’s surprising how little you know. It’s not your fault. Shigeru left before he could tie the pieces of his training together.”

  Ryuu held his tongue. The only reason Shigeru had to leave was because he had been hung from a cross to die, an order Tenchi had given.

  “Let’s start with a basic question. What is the sense?”

  “It’s a heightened state of awareness. It’s the ability to gather more information from the world than anyone else can.”

  “Yes, but how does it work?”

  Ryuu started to speak and then closed his mouth. He realized he didn’t know.

  Tenchi shook his head in disbelief. “All that power, and you really have no idea what it is? It’s amazing that you’ve lived as long as you have.”

  Ryuu ignored the well-meaning sarcasm as Tenchi launched into his explanation.

  “The world is filled with energy, the energy of all living things. You possess the energy, ants possess the energy, the trees possess the energy. This I’m sure you know. You’re right in saying the sense is a heightened state of awareness. What we call the sense is in fact two different abilities coming together. First, it’s a full and complete understanding of the world around you. It’s the five senses all humans possess developed much further than usual. There is some debate on the topic, but I personally believe that anyone, with p
roper training and dedication, can achieve this aspect of the sense. I don’t think it’s limited to those who are considered sense-gifted.”

  Tenchi checked to see if Ryuu was still following. He was, with rapt attention. He felt like he was finally starting to get to the heart of the secrets he had come all the way to the island for.

  “The second ability, and the one that truly defines us, is the ability to sense this energy in all living things. It’s a sixth sense of a sort, but it allows us to know where someone is even when we can’t see them. There are those who believe it is also accessible to everyone, it just takes extreme amounts of training. I’m open to the idea, though I’ve never seen anyone develop the sense without an inborn aptitude.”

  “Put these two abilities together, and you have the sense. It allows nightblades to know where their opponent is going to strike a moment before it happens and it allows dayblades to mend broken bones.”

  Ryuu was confused. “How is that possible? Those seem like two very different activities.”

  Tenchi nodded. “They are, but not by as much as you might think. The energy in the earth is collected and funneled. For right now I’ll ask you to trust me on this. Understand there exist what we call lines of force, the channels through which energy seems to pass across the planet.”

  Ryuu didn’t believe Tenchi, but he let him continue.

  “Just as these lines pass through the planet, they also pass through you. When a bone is broken, the lines are interrupted, broken. Dayblades have the ability to bring these lines of energy running through your body back into order. What this means in practice is that bones heal in moments instead of moons.”

  “That seems unbelievable.”

  “Perhaps, but you’ve experienced your own bone healing. How can you doubt what you’ve lived through? But maybe a demonstration is in order. There is a way to demonstrate the lines of force concept. Given your stunt when you were healed, I think we could do it together. Perhaps it will allow you to believe the ability exists in your body. Is there anyone back in the Three Kingdoms you would like to sense?”