Chosen by the Blade

by Bryce Allen

  One of Hiroshi’s men cut down his opponent and charged directly at Kenji. It took Kenji by surprise and he narrowly dodged the well-armored warrior’s cut. Kenji slipped towards the warrior, and the opening was clear.

  Out of instinct, Kenji slashed across the warrior’s chest. The armor made him slow, and it was his easiest target. Kenji’s attack landed, but it skipped across the man’s armor, causing nothing more than a spark.

  The stiff resistance threw Kenji off balance and sent a painful shockwave up his arm. He felt his old wounds pulse, but he managed to cling to his sword.

  Kenji leaped away from the warrior and searched for a weakness. The warrior was slow, but relentless. He raised his sword above his head and approached Kenji again.

  Before he could complete his cut, Kenji found his opening and attacked. Where the helmet ended and the breast plate began, a small patch of skin was exposed. Kenji leaned in and stabbed towards the opening, just before the soldier could reach him.

  His blade plunged into the opening and flayed the warrior’s neck open. Hiroshi’s warrior fell into a heavy pile of armor and blood.

  Kenji resumed his search for the Shadow, but time was running out. Men on both sides had fallen, but Taishi didn’t have as many to spare. All around him men were wounded but still fighting.

  The whistling noise of a blade flying through the air alerted Kenji to the Shadow’s presence. Manzo had to be wearing the same armor as the rest of Hiroshi’s men to blend in. A man draped in black would be too obvious in the well-lit room.

  Kenji had an idea. He couldn’t see the Shadow, but the Shadow could surely see him. Kenji navigated the fray until he reached the corner of the room. It was quiet, and it felt separate from the battle.

  Kenji crouched down, ready to leap. He lowered his gaze and waited.

  It didn’t take long for the Shadow to come. Kenji heard the Shadow’s throwing knives and leaped. He heard the satisfying thud of several blades striking the wall beneath him.

  Kenji landed, and it didn’t take long to find the man staring at him. Manzo stood still in the swirling, bloody chaos around him. Kenji and the Shadow locked eyes. They moved towards each other, drawn together like forces of nature.

  “If you couldn’t best me with the help of that girl, what makes you think you can win?” Manzo taunted.

  Kenji’s only response was a powerful step forward and a sweeping cut at Manzo’s torso. Kenji caught Manzo off guard. He had to backpedal and make an awkward block just to stay in one piece.

  He seemed slower and less confident than the night before. Without the darkness and the element of surprise, Manzo was out of his depth.

  Manzo caught his footing and readied his blade. Kenji continued the attack. He spun on his heels, confident that Manzo wouldn’t have the speed to capitalize on his exposed back. Kenji used the spin to put strength and momentum into another cut, this one directed at Manzo’s neck.

  Manzo wasn’t a fool. He shifted away from Kenji instead of trying to deflect the cut. The blade passed by Manzo’s throat, inches away from catching flesh.

  Kenji anticipated the dodge. Before his cut was even finished, Kenji lashed out with his leg, kicking the side of Manzo’s knee with his shin. Manzo’s leg buckled under the surprise attack, and Kenji felt his knee pop.

  Manzo’s momentum carried him a few more feet, but when he tried to put weight on his leg, he winced and fell to the ground. He struggled to stand for a moment, but he quickly realized his leg wasn’t going to carry weight.

  Frantic, Manzo cast his sword aside and reached into his belt. It was a desperate move, but it was the only one Manzo had left. But before he could throw the knife, Kenji moved in.

  Manzo pulled his arm back, ready to hurl the blade at Kenji. Kenji gritted his teeth and made a final slash in Manzo’s direction.

  Manzo threw the blade at the same time Kenji’s cut moved across his body. Kenji felt his blade cut flesh, but only for an instant. Manzo’s throwing blade struck the ground at Kenji’s feet and skipped a few paces away.

  Kenji looked down at Manzo’s face. The Shadow had a look of terror and confusion frozen on his face. It took Kenji a moment to realize why.

  Kenji’s cut had caught the center of Manzo’s palm, splitting most of his hand in two. It was hard to see through the blood blossoming from the wound, but Kenji thought he might be missing a finger.

  Kenji could have stopped there and let Manzo writhe in pain, but the spirit of battle was still surging inside him.

  He raised his knee to his chest and thrust his leg out with all the strength he had. His foot collided with Manzo’s helmet. The armor didn’t help the Shadow. Manzo’s nose collapsed, and several shards of teeth rolled across the floor. His helmet flew off and his head snapped back, bouncing off the ground.

  Manzo groaned and rolled his head back and forth. Blood pooled in his mouth and rolled down his face. His eyes were glazed over, but he was still conscious. In one, sloppy, final movement, Manzo threw a blade at Kenji from the ground with his good hand.

  The handle of the blade struck Kenji in the chest and fell to the floor like a child’s toy. It wasn’t strong enough to leave a bruise, but it did strengthen Kenji’s resolve. He moved to Manzo’s side, and held his sword to his throat.

  Kenji looked down at the helpless Shadow. Tears, snot, and blood mixed together as the man tried to whimper. It was pathetic. Kenji tried to let his blade fall into the man’s neck and take his life, but he couldn’t.

  Kenji wanted to let it happen. This man was a Shadow and a traitor. No one would judge Kenji for it. His hand trembled with indecision. It wasn’t right. This man was already defeated; killing him wouldn’t bring justice to anyone.

  Kenji looked at the throwing blade near his feet and a different thought crossed his mind. This man tried to take the emperor’s life. He deserved to die.

  For the empire.

  Kenji’s hands stopped shaking and the strength returned to his grip. Before he could raise the sword above his head and make the final cut, Manzo’s eyes fluttered and went blank.

  Manzo saved himself by falling unconscious. Blood poured from his face and hand, but he no longer squirmed on the ground. His head lolled to the side and his body fell limp.

  Kenji allowed himself to take a slow breath, but only one. Chaos still raged around him.

  Fear gripped Kenji as he assessed the battle. Only two or three of Taishi’s men were left standing.

  Kami was a blur. She leapt and twisted from enemy to enemy, never staying in one spot for more than an instant. Many had fallen at the end of her blade, but her quick, light style didn’t work well against the heavy armor of Hiroshi’s men. Men were surrounding her, and her escape routes were closing.

  Ebusu stood and moved in a circle around the emperor. He was holding his own against a handful of enemies, but the sheer number of them allowed him only to defend. His face was calm and focused. Kenji had never seen him move with such speed. Hiroshi stood behind the line of men closing in on Ebusu, waiting to reach his brother.

  Kenji didn’t know where to go. They all needed his help. The last of Taishi’s men fell to a bloody death, and Kenji knew they were going to lose. They were all gifted with the sword, but more than a score of Hiroshi’s men were healthy, and a handful more were only wounded.

  There was only one move that would end the fight. If Kenji could reach Hiroshi with one fatal cut, it would be over. Hiroshi was well guarded, and a fine swordsman himself, but there was a chance Kenji could slay Hiroshi before losing his own life.

  Kenji took a final look at his struggling friends and crouched. He tensed his legs and prepared to explode towards Hiroshi. He was on the opposite side of the room, but with Kenji’s speed, he could still reach the crowd with the element of surprise.

  Kenji took one step, but a powerful voice silenced the entire room.

  “Enough!”

  Taishi rose from his kneeling position, clutching his sword. All eyes turned towards the e
mperor, shocked that he could even draw breath. His skin was pale, but his eyes were bloodshot and filled with tears. The blood no longer fell from his wounds, but trails of crimson stained his back.

  “Taishi, save your strength!” Ebusu said.

  Ebusu rushed to his side, but Taishi waved him away. His eyes were focused on his brother. The emperor’s posture was rigid, but the tremor in his sword betrayed his weakness. Kenji was in awe of the man, but he wasn’t immortal.

  Hiroshi’s men capitalized on the distraction and moved in on Ebusu and the others. Taishi’s defenders were forced to drop their weapons, and some of Hiroshi’s men held swords to their throats.

  Taishi seemed oblivious to their defeat. Hiroshi’s men were either too afraid to approach him, or they no longer found him a threat.

  “You are my brother. I will always love you, but you have gone too far,” Taishi said.

  Taishi lifted his sword and pointed it at Hiroshi. The tip of his blade waivered, threatening to fall, but Taishi shuffled his weight and doubled his effort to hold the sword up.

  Hiroshi gestured for his men to stand down and approached the emperor. He looked Taishi up and down, as shocked as everyone else that he was standing.

  “Those were poisoned,” Hiroshi said, his voice quiet.

  Hiroshi didn’t seem afraid of an attack, but Taishi’s awakening had taken his nerve. He tested Taishi with a weak cut, aiming for his sword. Their swords met, and Taishi’s arm was too weak to hold the blade up. He kept his grip on the hilt, but the sword drooped at his side, more a cane than a weapon.

  Taishi groaned and lashed out with a slow cut. Hiroshi sidestepped the cut with little effort and watched as Taishi stumbled past him. The opening was obvious, but would Hiroshi take it?

  Hiroshi dropped his blade and caught his brother before he could fall. With both arms, Hiroshi held Taishi up. Taishi’s blade fell to the ground next to his brother’s.

  Hiroshi embraced his brother. For the briefest of moments, they looked like two siblings, holding each other. Taishi wrapped a weak arm around Hiroshi, and they were still.

  Hiroshi turned and whispered something in his brother’s ear. Taishi’s body went limp, and his arm fell to his side. Hiroshi strained against his weight, but lowered his brother to the ground, supporting his neck. The emperor remained still as Hiroshi stood up.

  Taishi was gone.

  Kenji knew Ebusu was shouting something at Hiroshi, but he couldn’t hear him. Hiroshi’s expression was vacant, and the color left his skin. Things started to move slowly, and Kenji didn’t find himself concerned for the emperor, but for his son. Taijin was doomed to a life without his father, just like Kenji.

  Hiroshi gave his men an order, and they moved in. Kenji felt the hilt of a sword crash into the back of his head. Blackness enveloped him and the room faded away.

  Chapter 9

  It was pain that woke him up. His head felt like it was about to burst with every beat of his heart. Beneath him was a damp floor, slick and unyielding in the musty air. He could hear the occasional drop of water hit the surface.

  Kenji pushed himself into a sitting position and slumped over. He was relieved to find that he was intact. He had numerous cuts on his body and the numbing pain in his head, but he had the use of his limbs.

  The smell of stale air and urine saturated everything. A few small torches illuminated the room, but it was still dark. In front of him was a set of iron bars, fastened to the stone walls that surrounded him. He was in a prison of some kind.

  “Ebusu?” he said softly in the silence. “Kami?”

  “Kenji, I’m here. Are you alright?” Ebusu’s voice was coming from the cell next to him. Kenji pressed against the bars, but he couldn’t get close enough to see out of them.

  “I’m fine, where are we?”

  “The deepest corner of the Tenno stockade,” he said.

  “Where is Kami? Sagura?”

  “After you were knocked unconscious Kami was taken somewhere else,” Ebusu said, “and I do not know about Sagura.”

  Kenji shook his head. “Sagura should have been there.”

  “I’m sorry, Kenji.”

  Kenji’s mind was racing. His head was filled with thoughts, but none of them made sense. Nothing was right. The emperor should still be alive, and he should be preparing for the Tenno Tournament, not this treacherous lie.

  “What happens now? How do we get out of here?” Kenji asked.

  Ebusu’s voice echoed back to him. “We wait. I’m not sure what options we have.”

  “What about the empire? What about Taijin?” Kenji said.

  “Taijin will be emperor when he is deemed old enough by the governors. Until then, Hiroshi will assume most of his duties.”

  Ebusu’s words were disconnected and emotionless. His calm only fueled Kenji’s frustration. Kenji tried to speak, but he bit off the first word, unsure of what to say. If Ebusu wasn’t already enraged, what could Kenji say to rouse him?

  Ebusu must have sensed Kenji’s frustration.

  He cut Kenji off before he could say anything. “We did what was right, and now we are suffering the consequences. You must accept what is, not what should be.”

  Kenji let the silence of the dungeon fall over them again. How could Ebusu be so calm? They needed to act, not muse over philosophy and predicaments.

  “Master, we need—”

  “Enough, Kenji!” Ebusu shouted.

  The old swordsman’s voice echoed through the stockade for a few moments. Even separated through a stone wall, Kenji could feel the power and intent of the command. He shook his head in silent defiance, but didn’t dare speak.

  Kenji felt the room around him get smaller with every moment that passed. A new fear gripped him and threatened his sanity. What if Kenji spent the rest of his days here? He would be forgotten by the world, rotting in a cell.

  Minutes faded to hours, and for all Kenji knew, hours faded to days. There was no natural light to gauge the time, and the frustration ate away at Kenji’s demeanor. His anger simmered.

  He waited for some sign of life. He hoped a guard would come by and Kenji could explain their predicament. Perhaps there were still those loyal to the true emperor. He contemplated a grand escape, disappearing into the night and rallying forces against Hiroshi.

  For the first time he could remember, he questioned his own motives. In the darkness of his cell, the Tenno Tournament seemed unimportant, almost childish.

  What good was saving an empire so corrupt? Had his entire youth of patriotism been wasted? Kenji grappled mentally with himself until the throb in his head slowed his thoughts to a dull trickle.

  Only one thought prevailed after that. It was a quiet voice, weaker than it had ever been. Instead of the resounding, all-consuming shout that it once was, a small, fragile voice spoke, almost pleading with Kenji.

  The empire still needed him.

  A heavy iron door swung open and Kenji pressed his face against the bars of his cell to see where the noise came from. Several sets of footsteps walked down the hall and stopped in front of Ebusu’s cell. Kenji could barely see who was leading them. It was Hiroshi.

  “Ebusu, you and I have a lot to discuss, and I would prefer not to do it here.” His voice made Kenji’s blood run hot with anger.

  Ebusu’s cell door swung open, but Kenji didn’t hear his master move.

  “I’m not taking you against your will, but I’m sure you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”

  Ebusu hesitated, and all was quiet. Then, Kenji heard him shuffle to his feet with a tired sigh.

  “Master?” Kenji called after him.

  “I will return, Kenji.”

  Hiroshi snorted with a hint of amusement and escorted Ebusu down the hall. Just before their footsteps faded from earshot, Hiroshi’s voice filled the dungeon. “You recognize my voice, old man? You should.”

  As soon as the words were spoken, the iron door creaked shut and silence fell over them again. Kenji hadn’t real
ized that anyone else was in the prison with him. He hadn’t even thought to ask, not that it mattered.

  However, now that Hiroshi had expressed an interest in whoever was in there with him, Kenji’s interest was piqued.

  “Hello?” Kenji called out to the darkness.

  Nothing but his own echo responded. Kenji cocked his head. There had to be someone else there.

  “My name is Kenji. I am . . . I was the champion of Gawa in the Tenno Tournament. Is anyone there?”

  His words rang back to him, and Kenji started to wonder if Hiroshi had been playing a trick on him.

  Then, finally, his words were answered. Kenji heard slow, heavy steps across the hall from him. He strained his eyes in the torchlight, searching for movement. Nothing appeared to him.

  He pressed his face against the bars, and a person shuffled out of the shadows. Kenji fell backward out of fear. The person had been across from him the entire time, hiding in the blackness of a shadow.

  He appeared to be more ghost than man. He wore only a ragged cloth around his waist. His bare chest was nothing more than parchment-thin skin spread over a cage of ribs. With every breath the man took a bone threatened to break the surface.

  His arms and legs were little more than bone with a few strands of muscle holding them together. His legs were no larger than his arms, and they strained under his weight. The hands at his side were curled into useless, darkened coils.

  The only color on his sunken face was the deep violet that lined his eyes. His milky, colorless eyes darted back and forth, unable to focus on anything. His few remaining clumps of hair were groups of fine, white strands jutting out in random directions.

  “Hello, champion.”

  His voice matched his appearance. It grated like two stones grinding against each other. It was barely a whisper, but it unnerved Kenji to hear it.

  “Who are you?” Kenji asked. He tried to sound bold, but every word shook with uncertainty.

  “My name is Kaito.”