by Ryan Kirk
Ryuu glanced at Moriko. Perhaps more than anything else, it was she who surprised him. After the death of Takako, she had come back to Shigeru’s hut with him, mostly because she had nowhere else to go. There was no question of returning to the monasteries, and her family would never welcome her.
They had lived together for moons, an uncomfortable truce between them. Ryuu was still grieving, working through the deaths of Takako and Shigeru. Moriko trained. She had seen how strong Ryuu and Orochi had been and knew there was more for her to learn. Most days Ryuu would work in the garden, his sword collecting dust in the hut, while she practiced every day. She had nothing left but her strength, and with training it grew every day.
After killing Orochi, Ryuu had been broken. As a child, he had dreamed of becoming a nightblade, but when his dream was realized, he learned it was a nightmare. He had seen too much blood, too much meaningless death. The one time he had taken up his blade for a cause, to save a girl who couldn’t save herself, he had lost both the girl and the man he called father. The garden brought him a measure of hope, a simple joy in nurturing life rather than taking it.
It was Moriko who convinced him to pick up his blade again. She wanted to learn from him, but more importantly, she had convinced him that he was shutting part of himself away. Almost his entire childhood had been dedicated to becoming a nightblade. When he gave it up there was a hole in his life that gardening couldn’t fill. Patiently, she tried for three moons to convince him to train with her, and eventually he gave in.
She had been right, of course. Picking up his blade had felt natural. Even after all that had happened, it felt right, like a part of him was waking up from a long sleep. Ryuu had been torn apart by Shigeru and Takako’s deaths, and it was only when he picked up the sword again did he feel like the scars began to heal.
Returning to his childhood home had been both a blessing and a curse. When he had first laid eyes on the small hut he had been overjoyed. He loved being back in a place so comfortable and so safe.
But there was a hole in the hut that wasn’t physical, and it seemed to grow larger every day. Shigeru was gone and everything in the hut was a reminder of that. They cooked using Shigeru’s old utensils. They made their living by selling the medicines he had made.
Training again began the process of healing, and it brought them closer together. Ryuu had always found Moriko attractive, but the only time he had tried to express his feelings, he’d been knocked on his ass. The memory was strong, and he made no advances, even though he felt himself drawn closer and closer to her through their training.
What they shared was deep. They were both warriors, but even more, they were both nightblades. Their sense gave them a window to the world no one else in the Three Kingdoms could understand. The sun and the moon rose and fell, and as they shared more of themselves, their relationship deepened.
This time it was Moriko who pinned Ryuu to a tree and kissed him. He was stunned. While he could see a strike coming far in advance, he understood nothing about women. But Moriko opened the door, and he didn’t turn down her invitation.
Their relationship grew in fits and starts, a seed struggling to blossom in a new environment. But the seasons changed and it continued to grow, continued to get stronger. And now he couldn’t imagine a life without her. He never would have guessed he could find someone to share his life with, but he had.
Ryuu squeezed Moriko’s hand a little tighter at the thought. The corner of her mouth turned up as she glanced up at him. It was enough. She was quiet by nature, and he had gotten used to her manners. She was strong and silent and gave him the courage to face the battles he must.
Later that night Ryuu lay in bed listening to Moriko softly snoring next to him. He felt emptied and calm as he often did after they came together. He looked at her slim face, covered in part by her raven hair. He brushed it lightly out of her face. She had been growing it long. He decided she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. And she was strong too, which magnified her beauty. At her current strength she wouldn’t have any trouble fighting someone of Orochi’s caliber, the strongest warrior they’d ever encountered. If not for Ryuu’s ability to snap, she’d defeat him as often as he beat her.
Thinking of Orochi opened the doors to memories he’d rather not dwell on. He didn’t trust the peace they had here. Every night he thought he needed to do something, take some action, but there was none to take. He considered going to the island Orochi had given him directions to, the birthplace of both Orochi and Shigeru. There was a part of him that found the idea appealing, a part that wanted to learn more about the place his adopted father had come from. But the desire wasn’t there, wasn’t strong enough to motivate him to make the journey. He was happy here.
As he lay there, lost in thought, a shadow crossed his awareness that made him bolt upright and out of bed. Ryuu lived with the sense every day. Most of the time it was a passive ability, bringing in information about his surroundings. Unlike the early days of his training, he didn’t have to think about it anymore. It was always there in the back of his mind.
Something was close. Ryuu had his hand on his sword in less than a moment. His training kicked in and he stilled himself, allowing his sense to expand outward. At first, the world outside their hut seemed normal, but then it was there again. It was unlike anything or anyone he had sensed before. At times it seemed like a man, but the energy was primal, uncontrolled.
Ryuu focused. Whatever it was, it was still far from the hut. It was at least fifty paces away, but even that was closer than any man had gotten in the past two cycles. Ryuu rolled off the sleeping pad, coming silently to his feet. As he left the bed Moriko’s eyes came open, instantly aware. She started, but Ryuu motioned her to silence. She grabbed her own sword. Ryuu motioned her to stay still. He took a last, longing glance. In the light of the stars her bare skin contrasted against the glint of her blade. She was beautiful.
He didn’t bother with clothes. When he felt the shadow was out of the line of sight of the door, he darted out, his bare feet making no sound in the damp grass. He reached the edge of the clearing in a few heartbeats. There was a large tree about ten paces into the woods whose shadow he melted into. He caught his breath and threw out his sense like a net, hoping to catch his mysterious shadow once again.
It was faint, but Ryuu could still feel it. The shadow was still, as if something had caught its attention. As Ryuu calmed his mind, he sensed something he had never expected to sense in the Three Kingdoms again. He could feel the light pressure of Moriko in the hut, her own sense expanding outward, tentative and cautious. But the sense was extending from the shadow as well. So it was another nightblade. There were more in the kingdoms than just the two of them then.
The shadow moved again, continuing to circle the hut. It was slow, but it was heading towards him. Ryuu debated his best course of action. He snuck further into the woods, silent as death. Moriko had taught him some of her skill, and while he wasn’t near as proficient as she was, he would be hard to sense among the life of the woods. He used as much of his focus as possible to mask his own intentions from the sense. After he had gone about fifteen more paces into the woods he crouched in another shadow and turned around.
The waiting was the hardest part. Ryuu could sense the shadow moving, but it was slow, deliberate. It was high too, in the trees. There was a path through the upper boughs surrounding the hut. He and Moriko trained on it often. The shadow was following the same path. Soon it would be right over the place Ryuu had first hidden.
In the dark of night, Ryuu couldn’t make out anything using his sight. The moon was almost new and its faint light couldn’t penetrate the trees. Without his sense he would have been blind. It felt like an eternity, but the shadow stopped above where Ryuu had first left the clearing and found cover. Ryuu squinted, trying to make out something in the trees that would tell him who was out there. His attempts were in vain. He couldn’t make out anything or anyone. The shadows were too
deep.
Then there was a blur of movement, the shadow dropping right where Ryuu had been hidden. Ryuu caught the glint of a blade reflected in the faint starlight. The shadow melted into the shadows surrounding the trees and Ryuu lost sight of it. It was a man, but Ryuu had never encountered anyone like this before. He felt different, darker and more dangerous than any man Ryuu had met.
Ryuu held his breath, trying to remain as silent as he could. He was hidden in the shadows of one of the giant trees, but it was a slim comfort. He didn’t even have the darkness of his robes to protect him, naked as he was.
The night was perfectly still. Mosquitoes hovered around Ryuu, drinking freely of his blood. They annoyed him, but he took no action. Any movement, no matter how slight, might give him away.
The silence stretched on, moment after agonizing moment. Ryuu held the hilt of his sword lightly in his hand, ready to draw at any moment. His nerves were starting to get the better of him. His sense told him the shadow was still right in front of him in the shadow of a tree, but his other five senses told him the night was empty and peaceful. He was ready to draw and attack the man, but fear held him back. Who could feel like this to his sense? There wasn’t a man he was scared of, but this creature didn’t act like a man.
In the stillness he heard a soft sound, and then another. He closed his eyes and focused his ears. The sound came one more time. It was so familiar, but it was hard for him to place. Then it came to him. It sounded like sniffing. Ryuu’s mind raced. Was the man trying to smell him out? Was it even possible? He gripped his sword tighter.
Sweat trickling down his face, Ryuu waited. His legs were cramping from the crouched position he had taken in a hurry. He hadn’t expected to be in the position for as long as he had been.
Finally the shadow moved, but not towards Ryuu. Staying in the shadow of the tree, he sensed it climb back up to its original perch. After a few moments of waiting, it was off, heading south.
Ryuu held his stance even though his legs screamed at him, using all his senses to scan the area around their hut over and over. He shifted to a kneeling position and expanded his sense. He waited, mosquitoes making off with more and more of his life blood. But nothing came. Finally he rose, confident it was gone.
Ryuu kept calm, but his mind was racing. He didn’t know why it was happening, but they were being hunted.
Chapter 3
Tanak looked out on the scene below him. He sat comfortably on his horse, his relaxed posture indicative of the many cycles he had spent in the saddle. Today he wore plain clothing, forgoing his usual armor for the garb of a landowner. There was no point in drawing attention to himself. He patted his horse, making small soothing noises. It was an excellent war horse, spirited and mean. Tanak loved riding it.
Below him lay two of the most important fortresses in the Three Kingdoms, that guarded the bridge that spanned the river separating Tanak’s and Akira’s kingdoms. Tanak and his horse stood on top of the highest point overlooking the scene. Below him, no more than a thousand paces away, was his own fortress. From his vantage point, the two fortresses were almost mirror images. Both had walls that approached the banks of the fast-moving river. Both had a gate blocking one end of the bridge. It was the most secure crossing in the Three Kingdoms. And tonight it was his target.
From his vantage point high on the hill, Tanak could see his fortress was bursting with soldiers, packed in like cattle in a small barn. There was little room to move. Turning his head, Tanak looked behind him. On the other side of the hill sat a massive encampment, the remainder of three of his armies. He had only held a single army back, just enough to make Sen think twice before seizing the moment and invading Tanak’s kingdom.
It had been an impressive feat, shielding the movements of his troops. They had increased the guard at the borders, searching for any messages trickling down to the Southern Kingdom. Tanak knew his men were vigilant, but Akira’s shadows were everywhere. They couldn’t stop all of them. As soon as news reached Tanak that Akira had left for the Three Sisters, his armies leapt into motion. Tanak hoped he would be across the river before the message of his troop movements made it all the way down to the Three Sisters.
While his outward demeanor was calm, inside his guts were twisting and roiling. He had been the Lord of his kingdom for almost fifteen cycles and this plan was the culmination of ten cycles of planning and preparation. Tanak was confident in his planning, but war was an uncertain endeavor, and often even the best plans failed.
He had to succeed. The Western Kingdom was large, by sheer physical size the largest of the three kingdoms, but its land was poor in the metals he needed to build the economy and protect his people. Much of his kingdom was fertile plains. His people were happy, but they were also in decline. In recent cycles the trade rates between kingdoms had been brutal, and Tanak knew his people paid dearly for every resource, while the Lords of the other two kingdoms sat comfortably on their excess.
Tanak made a gentle sound and his horse trotted down towards the fortress. He rode slowly and with confidence. It would be the last time many of his subjects saw him. He knew thousands of eyes were on him at the moment. His subjects knew who he was, even if the spotters across the river didn’t.
He would unite the Three Kingdoms. It had been the goal of almost every ruler since the first Kingdom had fallen. The land needed to be reunited. He could almost feel the ground pleading for reunification. They were so much stronger together. He was destined to succeed. So much groundwork had been laid, and he knew much more than Lord Akira. The end of the Southern Kingdom was at hand. He approached the second main gate of the fortress, allowing the doors to close behind him. The only way out of this fort was forward, into the Southern Kingdom.
Renzo was there to greet him, looking no different than any other foot soldier. Tanak kept himself from shaking his head. He had been working with Renzo for almost ten cycles and he still couldn’t believe his good fortune. The man looked uncomfortable in a soldier’s uniform, even though it fit perfectly. Tanak took a moment to enjoy his adviser’s discomfort. As he dismounted he felt Renzo’s strong hands guiding him safely off his horse. Tanak bridled in anger but contained himself. He knew the man was only trying to protect him. Although Tanak hated to admit it, he had seen over forty cycles, and getting off a horse wasn’t as easy as it had once been. He stared into the man’s eyes. Ten cycles and it looked like Renzo hadn’t aged a day. Who knew what dark magics kept him going? He was a nightblade, after all.
Tanak would never forget the first time they had met. Renzo had strolled right into Tanak’s palace as though it were his own home. Tanak remembered seeing him, his dark robes not quite concealing the gleam of his blade. Only the guards were allowed to wear steel in the palace. Renzo had told him a story that defied belief, but Tanak had put him to the test, and Renzo had passed every one. He was the best swordsman Tanak had ever met, and he possessed the sense of legend. He was a nightblade, a creature Tanak thought had passed from this world hundreds of cycles ago.
It was a crime punishable by death to harbor a nightblade. That decision had been one of the key provisions of the treaty which maintained the peace between the Three Kingdoms. It was death if you even knew of a nightblade and didn’t report it. But Renzo told him a tale. He came from a place where nightblades still lived, a place where there were those who could see into the future. They had seen his future. He remembered Renzo’s exact words.
“Lord, they saw a king ride with his armies at the head of one Great Kingdom. All were one, united as they never have been before.”
Renzo had looked up at him. “Our seers know the time draws near. You are the king we have all been waiting for!”
Tanak’s own seers had been saying the same for many cycles, but Tanak had a hard time believing them. Renzo’s story gave further credence to his own seers. From that day forward Renzo and Tanak had planned the reunification of the Kingdom.
Ten cycles of planning had passed. Renzo had beco
me his closest adviser and unofficial bodyguard, hidden from the entire palace in plain sight. Renzo admitted he knew no more of strategy than any other soldier, but he was a trusted confidant. More importantly, he displayed none of the sycophantic tendencies of the other advisers surrounding Tanak. They were more partners than Lord and vassal. Renzo spoke in a straightforward manner, willing to contradict Tanak when he felt Tanak was wrong. As the cycles passed Tanak found that he came to rely on Renzo’s advice more and more.
The Southern Kingdom was their first target. Tanak had nothing against Akira. He was a younger ruler, but showed great potential. Depending on how the campaign turned out, Tanak even considered letting him live. If he was amenable, perhaps he could serve as some form of lower adviser. The Northern Kingdom was too hard to invade. Akira’s armies were the largest and most well trained, but they didn’t frighten Tanak. He had tricks up his sleeve that would decimate the Southern Kingdom. Once his conquest was complete, he expected Sen would fall in line and the Kingdom would be reborn anew.
Tanak’s reveries were interrupted as two of his commanders approached. One was the commander of a covert squad acting as the tip of the spear for the invasion. The other was the commander of the initial strike force, composed of every soldier currently jammed into the fort, the spearhead. Their reports were brief. The covert team was ready to move, as was the strike force. All they needed was the order to proceed. Tanak hesitated for a moment. At his word, the treaty that had held the Three Kingdoms together for over a thousand cycles would be broken. The moment passed. He had come too far to turn around. It was his destiny. He gave the command.
Tanak climbed the wall of his fortress to overlook the scene. From his vantage point he would be able to see most of the battle, but he was still well out of arrow range. It was a quiet, moonless night, perfect for the coming attack. This date had been planned for cycles. He strained his ears to hear any sounds below him, but without luck. The only sound was that of the river crashing on its banks below. Tanak was pleased. If he couldn’t hear his squad on this side, they couldn’t be heard on the southern bank either. Although they had contingency plans, the success of this invasion hung in large part upon the squad of four men moving in the darkness below. Tanak’s heart beat increased. If they failed tonight, Tanak wasn’t certain they’d defeat the Southern Kingdom.
