Chosen by the Blade

by Bryce Allen

  “He saw all of us huddled there. He drew his sword, and my father attacked him. He didn’t have a weapon, but he attacked him without hesitation. He was killed. Then my mother attacked the man. She died as well.

  “The man looked at my brother and me, our parents dead at his feet. He could have killed us, but instead he dropped the torch and ran. We stayed with our parents as long as we could, but fire from the torch was spreading.

  “We stayed until the building started to fall down around us. My brother didn’t make it out. I was older than him, I could have dragged him out, but I didn’t.”

  Kami didn’t speak again. Kenji absorbed her words. For so long, he’d thought the pain he felt was immense, but now it didn’t hold a candle to Kami’s flame.

  Kenji’s mouth was dry. A deep pit formed in his core, churning with sour, nervous energy. He had one more question to ask.

  “The soldier, was he from the empire or the rebellion?”

  “Rebellion,” she admitted in a whisper.

  Kami cleared her throat. She rolled her shoulder, careful not to move it too fast. Kenji’s relief allowed him to breathe again. He wouldn’t have been able to justify those actions if they were taken by the empire.

  “To answer your question, champion, I fight to prevent anything like that from happening again, to anyone.”

  They walked in silence most of the way to the inner wall. The city was peaceful at night. The crowds were gone, and torches lit every corner. Every stone was covered in rain water, and the flames were reflected in every angle.

  The rain was still just a sprinkle. Kenji was wet, but it wasn’t unpleasant.

  “I wanted to thank you for your advice. You probably saved my life,” Kenji admitted.

  “You’re welcome. You’d have done the same for me.”

  Kenji stared at the mysterious girl walking beside him. She was odd in every way. She’d seen so much pain, yet she balanced her desire to win the tournament with honor. She had a noble cause, and Kenji respected that above all else.

  They reached the gate that lead to their quarters and prepared to go their separate ways. The building was an impressive sight at night. Torches lined the top of the wall, and in the darkness the gate looked like the open jaws of a beast.

  Kenji lowered his hood to identify himself to the guard. The guard turned his back. Kenji became aware that something was different. It was dark, but he should have been able to see the guard’s armor.

  Kenji stepped in front of Kami and drew his sword, but he was too slow. The man at the gate spun around and whipped his arm towards Kenji. A sharp, burning pain ignited just above Kenji’s knee.

  He stumbled back and caught his weight with his good leg. He glanced down and winced at the sight. A star-shaped metallic object was protruding from his flesh. It wasn’t deep enough to be fatal, but it would slow him down.

  The man in black lurched towards them, pulling two short swords from his cloak. Kenji readied himself for the oncoming attack. He wanted to maneuver or shift, but the metal in his leg kept him in place.

  The man threw a series of quick cuts, alternating each blade. Kenji was immediately put on the defensive. The cuts were fast, and this man was skilled. With Kenji’s long sword, he wasn’t fast enough to gain the upper hand.

  With no warning, the man rolled back into the shadows. His cloak melded with the darkness, and he was gone.

  “Shadow,” Kenji growled.

  “I thought they died out during the war.”

  “So did I.”

  Kami drew what was left of her sword, and the couple pressed their backs together, circling in the lone torch light. With Kami’s weak shoulder and her broken blade, they would be at a disadvantage. All around them the shadows swirled, threatening to reveal their enemy.

  The sound of tiny pieces of metal falling to the ground alerted the pair to his location. Kenji couldn’t see him, but the metallic noise was growing.

  “Chain.” Kami whispered.

  A glimmering metal snake shot out of the darkness, wrapped around Kenji’s wrist and locked tight. A sharp tug nearly ripped the sword from his hand, but he fought against the man’s strength.

  Kami didn’t hesitate. She sprinted along the chain into the darkness. Kenji stared into the black, helpless to aide her. Kami screamed with rage, and Kenji heard her robes flutter in the wind like they had at the tournament. Steel met steel in the blackness, but the chain around Kenji’s wrist held tight.

  The blades met again, only this time a single spark burst forth, a firefly illuminating them for an instant. The shadow was fending Kami off with one short sword, and his other hand clung to the chain. Kami was mid-air, twisting into an attack with her jagged, broken sword.

  Kenji gave the chain some slack, then pulled with all of his strength. The shadow stumbled forward and into the torchlight. Kenji got his first clear look at the man. His black robes were covered in painted metallic scales. Kenji had never seen armor like that.

  His face was concealed completely except for his eyes, which darted between Kenji and Kami.

  Kami moved behind the man, and Kenji shook the loose chains from his arm. They finally had an advantage. The man was between them now, and there was no way he could fend off attacks from both directions. Not from two champions of the Tenno Tournament.

  Kenji lunged towards him. His leg screamed out in pain, but he pushed it to the back of his mind. His limp was severe, but he mustered enough speed for an attack.

  Kenji put everything into a cut towards the man’s neck, and Kami led with a stab aimed at the Shadow’s center of mass.

  The Shadow twisted his body around and lowered his stance. He lifted both his blades, and blocked Kenji’s attack while redirecting Kami’s past him. Kami tumbled to the side, and Kenji and the shadow locked in a battle of strength and will.

  Kenji pressed down on the Shadow with all his strength. The Shadow blocked the attack, but Kenji could see his power weaken. The Shadow’s arms shook, and fear crept into his eyes. It was the same look Yutaka had at the end of their fight.

  Kami scrambled back to her feet and tried to rejoin the battle. Once she reached them, the man would have to choose between letting Kenji finish his cut or letting Kami skewer him.

  The man chose neither.

  Just before Kami reached him with her blade, the man twisted again, moving away from Kenji’s cut, narrowly missing death. Kenji’s cut was redirected, but he still caught flesh. The tip of his sword caught in between two metal plates on the Shadow’s shoulder. The shallow cut traced a red line down the Shadow’s arm

  He tumbled backwards, away from the pair. Both his swords fell to the ground. Kenji and Kami readied themselves for the next attack as the Shadow crouched on the edge of the light.

  He whipped his uninjured arm around him, and Kenji leaped too late. His body lit up with new stars breaking through his skin. His whole body felt the pain and he hit the ground hard.

  The Shadow disappeared for a moment, then Kenji saw his black outline scurrying up the fortified wall. When the silhouette reached the top, he looked back at the champions, then disappeared.

  Kenji’s vision began to blur, and he searched for Kami. She was still standing, but clutched the shoulder that Kenji had set in place only hours before.

  “Kami?” he asked.

  Kami knelt beside him, offered him a soft smile and tilted her head to one side.

  “Why did you jump in front of me?” Kami asked.

  Kenji made his best attempt at a shrug, but quickly realized his mistake. His shoulder had a star embedded halfway to the bone. The sensation flowed through his body, changing and intensifying with every breath.

  Out of nowhere, a dark figure barreled into Kami. She was thrown backwards and the figure pinned her against the stone wall. Kenji fought against his injuries and tried to stand to face the Shadow once again.

  The figure held a blade to Kami’s throat and his face only inches from her.

  “Are you responsi
ble for this?”

  It was a familiar voice. He sounded desperate, like a frantic parent. But he also sounded angry.

  “No, we fought him together. He . . . he saved me,” Kami said. Kenji heard fear in her words for the first time.

  “How did you barely get injured and Kenji can’t stand?”

  “I . . . I don’t—”

  The blade moved closer to Kami’s neck and her words were cut off.

  “Master, we were ambushed. We fought together against him,” Kenji said, struggling to sit up.

  Ebusu held Kami there for a moment, studying her face for any sign of deception. Once he was satisfied, he sheathed his sword and released her. Before Kami could even catch her breath, Ebusu was at Kenji’s side, cradling his head.

  “Save your strength.”

  “Master, I’m sorry. I’ve never faced—”

  Ebusu shook his head, silencing Kenji as he often did.

  “Kami, can you fight?” Ebusu asked.

  “I think so.”

  “We need to bring Kenji back to Gawa’s quarters, but I will have to carry him.”

  “Master, I think I can walk.”

  Ebusu didn’t respond. Instead he carefully lifted Kenji off the ground, scooping him up like a newborn child. Even though Ebusu was moving slowly, every step he took made Kenji’s wounds pulse with new agony.

  The edges of Kenji’s vision moved in and the pain consumed him.

  Chapter 7

  Awareness came slowly for Kenji. The first thing to return was the pain. A constant ache throbbed over his body with every beat of his heart. It wasn’t the agony from before, but Kenji felt every wound.

  He realized he was lying down and in his assigned quarters. The window glowed with the golden light of early morning. It was blinding to Kenji.

  He looked around and found three faces watching his every move. Sagura sat in the corner, exhausted. He had the absent, sullen face of a man that needed sleep. Kami and Ebusu were kneeling at his side. Ebusu’s face had returned to the indifference he was known for, with no trace of the emotion from the night before.

  Kami smiled when Kenji’s eyes finally opened. Before Kenji could say anything, Ebusu held a cup to his lips and helped him take a long sip. It was an unknown flavor to Kenji, bitter and thick, but he didn’t question it.

  “I’ve cleaned and bandaged your wounds. None of them were life threatening. The blades were only an inch or so deep. The tonic I just gave you will return your strength, but you will still feel the pain.”

  “Did you see the man’s face?” Sagura asked from his corner.

  Kenji shook his head. All he remembered were the Shadow’s eyes and the way he moved.

  “Weren’t Shadows banished after the war?” Kami asked.

  Ebusu grumbled, “Banished? No. They were ordered to give up their weapons and practices.”

  Kenji sat up. “We have to tell people. The emperor could be in danger, or his family.”

  No one responded. All eyes were on him, but no one spoke. Kenji looked from face to face for support, but no one wavered.

  “Kenji, do you think it is a coincidence that two victorious champions were attacked by a warrior who shouldn’t even exist?”

  Kenji’s head throbbed and the waves of pain felt more powerful throughout his body. He tried to stop his mind and focus, but nothing made sense. So what if they were attacked? It was a huge city. It could happen.

  “We think Hiroshi or Shiro sent the shadow after you to guarantee their victory.”

  Adrenaline filled Kenji with energy, and a fast, hot anger came over him. It made sense, after all. With Kami and Kenji dead or injured, the Zettai blade was basically promised to the victor of the last fight.

  “We must expose them,” Kenji said.

  Ebusu shook his head, “Accusing the emperor’s brother of such a thing would mean death or imprisonment, even for someone close to him.”

  “Not to mention the chaos that would ensue if the public knew that Shadows were in Tenno,” Sagura added.

  “So what? We do nothing?”

  “We conceal your wounds and we wait. Who knows, perhaps the culprit will be killed today on the arena floor.”

  Kenji didn’t like the plan. He wanted to take action. They were warriors, not poets. They had the strength of the blade on their side.

  His chest heaved with frustration and his anger built up. He looked to Kami for support, but she looked away when their eyes met. Sagura stayed in his corner.

  “I’ll save you the time, Kenji,” Ebusu said, agitation thick in every word. “As your master, I order you to do as I say.”

  With that, Ebusu left the room. Kenji watched him disappear through the door, dumbfounded. Not once in their training had Ebusu given him a command like that. The words resonated in Kenji’s mind.

  “I’ll see you at the tournament, Kenji. Thank you for last night,” Kami said.

  “You’re unharmed?” Kenji asked.

  “I am. Stay safe. I still have to fight you for the Zettai.”

  Kami’s mischievous grin appeared, but only for a moment. It was enough to bring a little warmth back into the room.

  Kami left, and only Sagura and Kenji remained in the room. Kenji found it odd that the governor would remain. But with a quick glance, it became clear that Sagura had something to say.

  Despite the pain, Kenji mustered the strength to squirm in his bed. He failed to find any comfort, but he was more upright than before. Sagura sat quietly in his corner. He was lost in thought, studying his folded hands.

  He cocked his head as if to speak, but stopped himself. Again, he fell into a state of deep thought. He couldn’t find the words.

  Finally, Sagura spoke. “Above all else, we must prevent war. Since the rebellion ended, everything I’ve done has been to prevent it from happening again. I won’t let you jeopardize this peace.”

  Sagura took a moment and searched again for the right words. He didn’t seem pleased with how they came out. It was rare for him to have such difficulty delivering a message.

  “You are angry, and you want to act. You have every right. The course of action you want to take is honorable, but foolish. Innocent people will die if we act hastily or without proper thought.”

  Sagura stood, offered a quick bow, and left. Kenji snorted at the governor’s words once the door closed. If his words were meant to be a threat, it was poorly timed.

  It was already abundantly clear to Kenji that he was not allowed to take action. It seemed ridiculous. The emperor needed to know what was happening in his capital city. There was no honor in hiding information from Taishi.

  Kenji thought about disobeying his master, but he quickly dismissed the thought. Even if he didn’t agree with Ebusu, he would never consider disobeying.

  Eventually, exhaustion was what calmed Kenji’s mind. His head throbbed with overuse and he was forced to relax and think of less straining topics.

  He wished for simpler times. He wished that he and Ebusu were at the waterfall, training their days away. He wished that the tournament was the glorious competition of honor and strength that he’d imagined.

  Wishes didn’t come true, and cold steel did not concern itself with honor.

  Kenji met his party in front of their quarters. Even the breeze made his wounds flare. He felt each cut with every move he made; even the simplest nod sent shivers down his back. He did as Ebusu commanded, though, and hid his pain from the world.

  Kenji, Ebusu, Sagura, and Toshi made their way to the arena. Kenji didn’t bother hiding his face. He let the passersby stare and did his best to hold his head high. Sagura and Ebusu didn’t say a word to him the entire way, and Toshi carried himself with the same arrogance he always did.

  If it hadn’t been for the handful of stab wounds covering Kenji’s body, it would have been a pleasant day. The sun was shining and a light breeze kept the masses comfortable. There was a bite to the breeze that warned of autumn.

  “Kenji! I’m afraid you�
��ve lost your seat to yesterday’s victor,” Taishi said with a smile and a grand gesture.

  Kami turned towards him and nodded from her seat beside Taijin. Kenji wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but Kami showed no sign of the night before. She didn’t wink or smile. She acted the way Kenji expected an opponent to act, cold and formal.

  “Not to worry, though. You can sit on my side,” the emperor said, gesturing to the seat beside him.

  The seat that the emperor was referring too was Hiroshi’s chair. Kenji hesitated, but the emperor insisted. Kenji studied the emperor with concealed curiosity. He didn’t seem to care that his brother was the one competing today.

  The crowd was especially raucous. The same name was on everyone’s tongue: Hiroshi.

  The empire had never seen a member of its royal family fight. It was a spectacle that offered something rare: royal blood. It was clear that the crowd favored Hiroshi, but the possibility of his death kept the audience on edge.

  “How do you think he will do?” Kami asked. Her tone was so casual, it made Kenji grate his teeth. She may as well have been talking to a younger sibling, not the leader of the known world.

  Taishi shifted in his seat, his eyes focused on the empty arena. Taijin, however, didn’t mind the question.

  “I’m not sure,” he said seriously. He rubbed his smooth chin, giving the matter genuine thought.

  A brief silence came over the group until Taijin spoke again. “I hope Uncle Hiroshi wins. His skill with a sword is strong. It always has been.”

  Taijin twisted his face with a serious thought. “But he is prone to anger and distraction. He has been since the war.”

  Taijin nodded to himself, satisfied with his answer. He spoke like a child trying to prove he was an adult, desperate to share what little knowledge he had on the subject. Kenji went rigid in his seat, afraid to look in the emperor’s direction.

  Taishi leaned forward, looking in his son’s direction. Kenji couldn’t see his face, but the words the emperor spoke told Kenji everything he needed to know.

  “You share too much, my son. Hiroshi is your superior and should not be spoken of in such a way.”