by Ryan Kirk
World’s Edge
World’s Edge
Copyright © 2015 by Ryan Kirk
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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Cover Design by: Rizky Nugraha
This one is for Mom and Dad,
Still putting up with me after all these years.
Prologue
Akira, Lord of the Southern Kingdom, ran his hand through the grass. He closed his eyes and focused on the warmth of the morning sun on his left side. The morning was early and the predawn silence still held, the fort behind him silent as men rolled bleary-eyed from their sleeping pads. Akira had been up before the sun, driven by curiosity.
He kept his eyes closed as he listened to the soft rustle of a morning breeze through the prairie. If it was possible, even the wind sounded empty and hollow. The grass here was high, coming well above Akira’s waist. If he wished, he could sit and disappear from the view of those behind him. For a moment his imagination got the best of him, racing ahead of logic to present solutions to his confused mind. He pictured the Azarians, spread out in front of him - thousands of them, just sitting in the grass, hiding and laughing at their own private joke.
But when he opened his eyes, the rolling prairie in front of him was empty. He looked down at the grass, tall and strong, and thought of the amount of blood this field had been fertilized with. The grass here would grow strong long after he and his men had rejoined the great cycle. Their blood ensured it.
But there was no death here this morning. The sun rose on three armies that faced no enemy. Akira turned and looked at Fort Azuma, stone walls built tall and strong with sweat and lives. Behind it lay the Three Sisters, mountain peaks Akira could just make out from where he stood. Beyond them, even further to the north, lay the Southern Kingdom. Akira’s father had fought for ten hard cycles to retake the pass from the Azarians, and Akira had finished the work through the completion of the fort named for his father. He believed he had ensured the safety of his kingdom. No more would the Azarians be a threat to his people.
Today he wondered if his dream had come true. For sixty cycles the Southern Kingdom had fought and died against the Azarians, fighting to protect their border. The fighting in the pass was as regular and predictable as the seasons. Some winters were harsher than others, but winter always came, and spring always followed it. With the spring came the Azarians. Sometimes more of them and sometimes less, but they always came.
Now, spring was here. Even the prairie, usually burned brown by the sun, was green. The air smelled fresh and clean. But though spring was in full bloom, the Azarians were nowhere to be seen.
It should have meant rejoicing. Behind Akira stood fifteen thousand men and boys who might not meet their ends in this empty grassland. But Akira didn’t trust it. He couldn’t trust it. The silence in front of him wasn’t pleasant. It was oppressive, menacing. It felt like the wind when it stopped right before the storm hit, tearing well-rooted trees out of the ground.
Akira turned and walked back to the fort, causing the bodyguards he had ordered to stay behind to breathe a silent sigh of relief. Questions raced through his mind, but no answers. He couldn’t explain it, but when he looked out on those empty plains, he only felt one emotion, and it wasn’t relief. It was fear.
Chapter 1
Akira studied his maps. They were large, almost as large as the bedroll he slept on. Although he’d not say as much out loud, they were one of the prides of his reign. Maps were knowledge, knowledge of the terrain that could mean the difference between success and defeat in a military campaign. His were the most detailed of any in existence, and with the addition of small wooden figurines to denote armies and units, it gave him all the information he needed to run his kingdom.
The sun wasn’t yet up, but the candles in his tent provided plenty of illumination as he puzzled over the maps. He commanded five armies. The Fourth and the Fifth were far away, up north guarding the borders of the Western Kingdom and the Northern Kingdom, respectively. It was quiet duty, but Akira didn’t dare leave his borders undefended. The Lords needed to be watched, Tanak especially. Tanak, Lord of the Western Kingdom, was building his armies. Akira’s shadows reported Tanak already had three full armies with over six thousand men apiece, and a fourth was in development. It worried Akira, but it was a matter for another day. The treaty had held for over a thousand cycles, and Akira couldn’t see anyone breaking it soon.
Down here, at the southern edge of the Three Sisters, Akira held three armies. He had hoped to test his new generals in battle, but no battle awaited them here. His generals would have to find experience elsewhere.
Akira shook his head. There was nothing on the maps he hadn’t already thought about. He stepped out of his tent as the first rays of the sun peeked over the horizon. The morning was still. His sleep-starved guards stumbled to attention, but he motioned for them to sit once again. He was in the middle of his armies. There was little for him to fear. No one made it this far unless they were personally known. Ryuu’s casual breaking and entering of his castle grounds two cycles ago had caused significant tightening of Akira’s personal security. He preferred not having a sword to his neck.
His guards knew his penchant for wandering without company. His advisers objected, but it was a small way he could show solidarity with his soldiers. They risked their lives every day for the kingdom. If he couldn’t step outside his own tent without a company of soldiers, what type of leader would he be? His guards would report his wanderings immediately anyway. He never had much time to himself.
Akira wandered to the spotting tower and returned to the view he had looked upon the day before. The morning sunlight bathed the land in brilliant orange hues and Akira couldn’t help but think that Azaria was a beautiful land. Empty, but beautiful.
He forced himself to turn away from the beauty below. The land was still empty and nothing had changed. When he reached the bottom of the lookout he was met by members of his honor guard. He almost asked how they had found him, but he knew the answer. They may have given him space, but they couldn’t risk giving him freedom. Captain Yung, the head of his honor guard, was a strong soldier, but an even better bodyguard. Akira knew the captain had issued orders that Akira be trailed discreetly at all times.
Akira greeted his captain with humor in his voice. “That obvious?”
Yung, to his credit, did not smile. “There was only one place you would have gone, my Lord.”
“You never will call me by my given name, will you?”
“No, my Lord.”
Akira laughed. “Well, hopefully these generals will follow orders better than you!”
Yung shook his head and let out a short laugh. “Unlikely, my Lord.”
They covered the ground to the command headquarters in short time. Even though the morning was still young, and the camp wasn’t awake, all the generals were assembled. The command of a kingdom waited for no one.
When Akira entered the headquarters he scanned the room and took in the three generals of the armies he traveled with. They represented the best of the Southern Kingdom, and Akira considered himself fortunate to have their skills and expertise.
General Toro was the oldest, having seen almost fifty cycles. He had been promoted to general of the First after General Nori had died, making him the highest ranking general in the kingdom. He had the experience in the room that balanced the impulses of t
he two younger generals, Makoto and Mashiro.
The two of them were as brothers. They had served in the same units growing up and had formed a bond that could only be created on the battlefield. Makoto was the older of the two by a cycle, but he was still only twenty-seven. They were the two youngest generals in the history of the Three Kingdoms, but their skills on the battlefield, both as soldiers and as commanders, had earned them the trust and respect of all. They were both brilliant strategists and charismatic leaders. On their shoulders the Southern Kingdom would continue to grow in strength. Although only a single cycle sat between the two of them, they couldn’t have been physically any more different. Makoto was a giant of a man. Akira, who himself was tall, came only to the general’s well-muscled chest. Mashiro was thin and of average height, but his speed, both mentally and physically, was astounding. Akira wouldn’t want to be on the other side of the sword or strategic table from either of them.
He nodded a greeting and the four of them sat around a table covered in smaller versions of Akira’s maps. They all knew the decision that sat before them. There wasn’t any time to waste. “Thoughts?”
There was silence around the table, an unusual occurrence for the four of them.
Toro spoke up, echoing the thoughts of each of the generals. “There is no way of knowing the best course of action. We’ve never encountered this, and we don’t have any worthwhile information from scouts to base a decision on.”
Akira glanced at the other two, seeing nods of agreement from both of them. “Suggestions, then.”
Mashiro spoke up first. “We should march deeper into Azaria with a significant force. This is an opportunity too good to pass up.”
Toro disagreed. “It’s too big a risk. It presents an opportunity, true, but at what cost? I share Akira’s unease about the absence of Azarians. It could be a precursor to greater action - perhaps a trap of some sort to get us to leave our position here.”
Mashiro scoffed. “What sort of trap could it be? Our scouts have scoured the lands for leagues. There aren’t any Azarians in any direction.”
Toro eyed the younger general coolly. “There are many types of traps. It wouldn’t be a very good one if we knew what it was. I believe caution is warranted.”
Akira turned his gaze to Makoto. The giant was usually the last to speak, but his advice was always well thought out. There was silence as they waited for him to speak. “I agree with Toro.” He held up his hand to stop Mashiro’s outburst. “Our records of the Azarians go back over sixty cycles, and I have studied them extensively. Nothing like this has ever happened. Something beyond our knowledge is happening. Here we are safe and defensible. If we were to spread our forces we incur unnecessary risk for little gain.”
Akira nodded. The majority of the generals agreed with him. Mashiro would chafe, but he would follow orders.
“Remember, the Azarians are not my main concern. If we can build the defenses here so they are impregnable, that is what we will spend the season doing. Speed is of the highest priority. Work your men as if their lives depend on it, for they may. I want you all to figure out a rotation. One army focuses on construction while the others train and simulate maneuvers in the foothills. In a cycle or two we will make our move and our men need to be the best they can be. Understood?”
A chorus of agreement answered his question.
“Good. I’ll be making arrangements to leave . . .”
Akira was interrupted by a commotion coming from the field. It was only moments before a messenger walked into the tent.
“Excuse me, my Lord. A scout has returned. He brings news.”
“Why the commotion?”
The messenger hesitated. “He made a rather dramatic entrance, my Lord.”
Akira gestured impatiently. “Then bring him here, quickly.”
The messenger left the tent, replaced moments later by the scout.
One glance was all Akira needed to see why the scout had caused such a commotion. He was covered in cuts and blood and had at least two arrows sticking out of his back. Neither looked fatal, but Akira was impressed he could still stand on his own two feet. He was moved by the scout’s strength.
The scout didn’t wait for permission to speak. He was shaky on his feet and his voice was soft, trembling like a leaf in a breeze. Akira noticed the fear in his voice right away.
“My Lord, they were destroyed. They were all dead.”
Akira raised his hand. “Slow down. Start from the beginning.”
The scout wobbled on his feet. Toro grabbed a flagon of wine and almost threw it down the soldier’s throat. The man gulped it down without shame, the tremors racking his body subsiding. The scout stood up a little straighter, then slouched again against the pain of the arrows. It was a temporary relief, but it gave the man enough strength to tell his tale.
“My Lord, we were sent into Azaria a quarter moon ago. My partner and I experienced much of what you’ve probably already heard. The land nearby is empty. No one. We rode through the foothills for a couple of days but saw nothing of note. I’m sorry, my Lord, but we disobeyed our orders and went deeper into Azaria. We wanted to know what was happening. The two of us traveled for two days straight along the main road into Azaria when we saw smoke. We rode towards it.”
“We came upon the end of a battle. My Lord, an entire Azarian clan had been wiped out. There were so many bodies we had to get off our horses. We went among the dead, hoping to find a survivor who could tell us more. But we found none. My Lord, it was terrifying. I’ve seen plenty of battlefields, and there are always wounded. Always. But there weren’t any here. Every single person was dead. I don’t know if I’ll ever get the silence out of my head.”
Akira tried to process what the scout was saying. He too had walked through the aftermath of combat, and the scout was right. There were always the living scattered among the dead. They may be dying or just too injured to move, but a recent battlefield was never silent. The air was always filled with the sounds of the wounded. He shuddered, imagining what the silence must have been like.
“We thought we were being careful, but we were spotted. My Lord, I don’t think there were more than four or five attackers. But they moved so fast. My partner and I ran. We both made it to our horses, but he took an arrow in the back and fell. These attackers, they weren’t human. They moved so fast and were so strong. They chased us, but their horses were tired. We thought we were out of range when my partner was killed. It was an impossible shot. Impossible. I took two myself, but then they were gone and I didn’t see them again.”
The scout broke down in tears and Akira dismissed him. His story was hard to believe.
The scout was replaced by the captain of the scouts.
“Is the boy trustworthy?”
“He’s one of our best, my Lord. I’ve never seen him rattled before, and he’s a veteran. He’s seen three cycles in the scouts.”
Akira nodded. “See to it he’s cared for.”
Perhaps there was truth to the boy’s story. He didn’t want to believe it though. If four or five warriors could slaughter entire Azarian clans, they would be a force of incredible power. Azarians were tremendous fighters and difficult to kill. If they had been wiped out so easily, Akira dreaded whatever was sitting to the south of them. A power that strong could sweep over his kingdom, and there would be nothing he could do to protect his people.
Chapter 2
The sword sliced through the air, aimed at Ryuu’s neck. He leaned back, letting the wooden blade pass harmlessly in front of him. Seeing a chance, he moved forward into the opening, trying a quick cut upwards. He was fast, but his opponent hadn’t stopped moving. She rotated and struck downward, forcing him back again.
Two more passes and he didn’t make contact, but Ryuu was getting closer. Every pass brought him a hair closer than the last. It wouldn’t be long now. She knew it too.
He was overconfident and lost his focus, just for a moment. It was less than a heartbeat, but she
recognized it. She saw every mistake he made, two cycles of experience paying off. His opponent redoubled her attack, strikes blurring together in succession. Ryuu blocked or dodged each of them, but he lost his balance on a tree root, stumbling backwards as his opponent seized the opportunity. She dashed forward, the eager glint of victory in her eyes.
Ryuu resigned himself to the pain of the strike. There was no way he could block her in time. But then Ryuu’s mind snapped. He couldn’t describe the sensation any other way. One moment he was in normal reality. The next, the world was moving in slow motion, as if everyone was moving through water instead of air. Not only did he know how his opponent would strike, he knew, with the trained instinct of a warrior, how he would finish her. Ryuu let himself fall, sweeping aside his opponent’s sword as he tucked into a roll. He came back to his feet and in three moves had his sword pressed against his opponent’s neck.
She blew her dark hair out of her face in annoyance. “You promised you weren’t going to do that.”
Ryuu lowered his sword, smiling. “Sorry, I tried, but when you had me beat at the end, it just happened. I still can’t control it.”
She looked at him, curious. “Can you do it now?”
Ryuu closed his eyes and focused. Sometimes it was easier immediately after. He could remember how it felt, and he had some idea of how it happened. Sometimes he could snap intentionally. But not today. He shook his head as he opened his eyes.
Moriko looked disappointed. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out one day.”
They walked hand in hand back to their hut, the same one Ryuu had grown up in with Shigeru. They walked in companionable silence, but Ryuu’s head was churning, much as it often did. For two cycles they had known peace. It was more than he had expected after they had killed Orochi and Nori. Akira had kept his word.
