Forty-five years ago . . .
The acolyte known as Soh had never been quite so terrified as
he was in this moment. A lifetime of meditation, prayer, and
study had not prepared him for this. His jaw worked without words,
like a broken tree limb dangling in the breeze. His eyes tried
to leap from their sockets. His arms trembled, threatening to
drop the thick sheaves of scrolls he had been bearing back to
the libraries of Fukurokujin Seido. He had heard many legends
of the samurai who stood before him today, but even the legends
could not fully describe the intimidating presence of Togashi
Yokuni, the Champion of the Dragon Clan.
The Champion was tall, taller even
than Soh who was extremely lanky for his fourteen years. Sleek
black hair hung loose about his shoulders, mirroring eyes so
dark that they seemed to have no iris - simply pools of deep
black. He wore a pale green kimono painted with the images of
dragons in flight and he bore no weapons save a golden daisho.
Only his swords and his noble bearing suggested he was a samurai
at all. Strange, Soh had heard it said that Yokuni always appeared
in full armor.
"Greetings, Soh," Yokuni
said, or seemed to say. As the words passed, Soh was left feeling
uncertain that Yokuni had spoken at all, that he had simply implied
the words through posture and expression. As soon as their meaning
was conveyed, the words slipped from Soh's memory.
"Lord Yokuni," Soh said, fixing his eyes respectfully
on the floor. "Please do not kill me yet."
Soh felt a sense of amusement radiate from the Dragon Champion.
"Why should I kill you, Soh?" he asked, or seemed to
ask.
"Because I, who am so low, cannot
kneel to you as etiquette requires," Soh replied in shaky
voice. "I fear I would drop my burden of scrolls, and damage
their irreplaceable wisdom. Better that I should die than they
should be lost. Even yet, such an insult cannot stand. I pray
you, grant me leave to return these scrolls to their proper place."
"In protecting the wisdom of
the ages, you honor the way of the Dragon," Yokuni said
in his strange way. "I take no offense."
"Thank you, my lord," Soh
said, greatly relieved.
"Tell me, Soh, who are your parents?"
Yokuni asked. The more he spoke, the more real his words seemed.
Soh could remember what the Champion said quite clearly now.
"I wish to know who raised you to be so wise."
"I have no parents, my lord,"
Soh said. "I was found by the monks in this temple as a
child and raised as one of them."
"Such a cruel fate, don't you
think?" Yokuni asked. "The life of a monk is a life
of denial, a life of poverty, a life of submission. Do you not
regret what you lost? What life you could have lived?"
Soh was quiet for a long moment. "Why
should I regret?" he asked. "I have no life but this
one. All I can do is to live it."
The Dragon Champion chuckled.
"I will speak to the master of
the temple," Yokuni said. "If you wish it, he will
release you from your service in this temple. If you desire,
you may find your way up Togashi Mountain, and seek me there.
You will be allowed to pass gempukku as a true Dragon, as a Togashi,
and take a name of your choosing. I will share with you the secrets
of our tattoo magic, and you may join the brotherhood of the
ise zumi if you choose."
Soh said nothing, his shock and joy
at the Champion's offer such that he could not put them into
words. Strangely, he sensed that he had said exactly the right
thing.
"Do not assume this is a gift,
Soh," Yokuni said. "If you choose the path I offer,
everything will change. You will see the wicked prosper while
the worthy are cast down. You will watch friends die while you
will stand helpless. You will watch the pious be hunted as corruption
reigns. You will fight every day for the rest of your life, struggling
for what is right, and when you die your fight will be unfinished."
"And if I stay here?" Soh
asked.
"Your life will be easy,"
Yokuni said. "You will live to an old age and accumulate
great wisdom."
"But I will always wonder what
could have been," Soh said in a quiet voice, "and my
place among your warriors will stand empty."
Togashi shrugged. "Perhaps another
will step forward to fight where you chose not to. Perhaps not."
Soh said nothing, his brow furrowed in confusion. Yokuni turned
and walked back down the way he had come. At the end of the hall,
he looked at the young monk.
"What name will you choose when you come?" Yokuni said,
just as Soh came to his decision.
"Mitsu," Soh replied, not sure why he had chosen it.
"I will be Togashi Mitsu."
Yokuni seemed to smile then, and was gone.
It was then that Soh realized that
the Champion had never introduced himself.
Thirty Years ago
Hitomi Akuai was not a man accustomed to uncertainty. When Lady
Hitomi returned to lead the Dragon, he felt the power of divinity
in her words. He saw glory in her golden eyes. He was one of
the first to bow before her, and was blessed for his loyalty
with the Lady's name. He was a Mirumoto no longer. He was a member
of the Hitomi, a kikage zumi now. He was one of many.
Some had come from far distant lands,
even other clans, and were granted the Lady's name and tattoos.
Some were former enemies, who came to Kyuden Hitomi convinced
that the Lady was some mad despot, but walked out of her throne
room born anew, now members of her proud family. Their pasts
did not matter. Like him, they belonged to the Lady now, and
Akuai saw them all as brothers and sisters. They were closer
to him than his own brother, Ikudaiu, who had fled the clan and
joined the ranks of the Brotherhood. Akuai was proud to bear
the Hitomi name. He would die for any of his brethren. He would
kill for any of them.
All save one.
When the Lady spoke, she spoke only truth. When she gave a command,
she was to be obeyed. Even yet, over the past year, Akuai had
slowly come to wonder if the Lady might have made a mistake.
"Kokujin, what have you done?" Akuai roared.
The stony landscape of the Great Climb
was stained with blood. Torn and broken bodies lay scattered
on the dusty earth. They were Naga, or they once had been. Now
they were meat for the carrion birds.
"The Naga ambassador did not
see reason," Kokujin said. The dark tattooed man crouched
by a small stream, his back to Akuai. His entire body was covered
with the blood of murdered Naga, but he was intent on carefully
rinsing a shaft of bamboo in the water. He held it up to examine
it. Akuai saw a long needle bound to the shaft - a tattoo needle.
"The Lady released the Naga delegation
peacefully," Akuai said. "Kazaq came as a friend. She
did not want this."
Kokujin peered over one shoulder,
smiling amiably at Akuai through the blood that covered his face.
"Now be honest, Akuai," Kokujin said. "You heard
what the Kazaq said. He came as a messenger. He had a vision,
a vision in which the Lady would bring about the end of all.
He feared her pride would drag the moon from the sky and send
the sun bleeding to its grave. He promised that if she did not
step down and turn to the Akasha for help, the Naga would rise
up to destroy her. Hitomi denied his aid, but allowed him to
leave peacefully to save face in the courts. We - her loyal servants
- cannot let such insults stand. Hitomi needs no help from snake-men
who cannot even protect their own cities from ruin."
"The Lady would not wish for this," Akuai whispered,
kneeling beside the body of a dead Naga girl. Her green eyes
stared lifelessly at the sky. Her hands were still clutched tightly
on the haft of her spear, a weapon that had failed to save her
from Kokujin's wrath. "This is murder, Kokujin."
"This is war, Akuai," Kokujin replied, straightening
and tucking the needle into his obi. "The Naga would have
attacked us one way or another."
"And you believe killing the
ambassador will make things better?" Akuai asked bitterly.
"He was the Qamar's son, you fool!"
"I am aware of that," Kokujin
said calmly. "That is why he yet lives. Look, Akuai, upon
my finest creation. Kazaq is our brother now." Kokujin held
out one hand, gesturing at something behind Akuai.
Akuai looked back in time to see a
ruddy brown Naga slither out from behind a large boulder. Akuai
remembered him from Hitomi's court. He was the Kazaq, emissary
of his people. Kazaq's movements were awkward, as if he were
confused or in great pain. He clutched the side of his face with
one hand, leaning heavily on the boulder as he moved. His leathery
skin was painted in swirling kanji, similar to Kokujin's tattoos.
When the Naga looked up at Akuai, his eyes were glazed and hollow.
"Akuai," the Naga said in
an excited voice. "It is good to see you, brother! Will
we return to see the Lady soon? I am eager to guide her to the
great destiny I have foreseen!"
Akuai turned to face Kokujin, face
twisted in an angry scowl. "How have you done this?"
he demanded. "Only Hitomi can grant the kikage zumi tattoos!"
"Oh?" Kokujin replied mildly,
as if that fact came as some surprise.
"This is an abomination!"
Akuai roared, advancing on Kokujin. "You have twisted everything
for which the Lady stands."
"No," Kokujin corrected.
"I have bought her time. How can the Naga fight us when
their own prince is one of us? While they come to terms with
the fact that Kazaq is one of Hitomi's faithful, the Lady will
have time to gird our defenses."
"Kazaq is not one of the faithful!" Akuai shouted,
glaring up at the larger man. "He is a mindless puppet!"
Kokujin looked down at Akuai. A slow grin spread across his bloody
features. "Why Akuai," he said with a small laugh.
"The way you talk, I almost think you'd be surprised if
I told you Kazaq was not the first."
Akuai could say nothing. For the first
time since he had sworn his name to Hitomi, a sliver of doubt
crept into his heart.
"Do not look so disappointed,"
Kokujin replied. "You believe that your Lady is infallible.
You believe that your unwavering loyalty is well placed. Many
agree with you, and who am I to say if you are right or wrong?
Sadly not everyone sees your Lady with the same clarity. That
is where I come in." Kokujin smiled.
"I will tell her what you have
done," Akuai croaked.
"She already knows, Akuai,"
Kokujin said, leering at the smaller man. "She knows, and
she does not care. She has greater concerns. For the time being
my games serve her purposes. You can do nothing unless she wills
it, and I am more useful to her than you."
Akuai looked the dark tattooed man
in the eyes. "Perhaps you are right," he said, "but
one day she will not need you, Kokujin."
Kokujin shrugged. "On that day
I will already be gone." He walked past Akuai, pushing him
to one side.
"When you leave, run far and
fast," Akuai called out after him. "For I promise I
will find you."
Kokujin looked back at Akuai, his
face still stained with Naga gore. "I give you a promise
as well," he replied. "I promise that from this day
forth you will live in fear of me, and one day one day I will
kill you."
Today
"It appears we have both fulfilled our promises," Kokujin
whispered into Akuai's ear. He twisted the half-finished blade
as he tore it free of Akuai's stomach again. The dying tattooed
man screamed in anguish. Kokujin ignored him, bringing the dripping
blade back to the anvil's surface. Akuai's blood glowed fiery
red as the sword touched the Anvil of Despair, and Kokujin continued
to hammer the weapon into shape.
From where he stood shackled to the
wall, Togashi Satsu glared at Kokujin with boundless hatred.
"Oh, do not look so sour, little
cousin," Kokujin said as he continued his grisly work. "Akuai
did quite well, for an old man. He killed six of my men before
we captured him, and you saw what happened to the two that brought
him here. His Lady would be proud." Kokujin reached over
the edge of the anvil, patting Akuai fondly on the head.
"Stop it," Satsu spat angrily.
"Kill us if you must, but we will not stand for this. Akuai
demands a noble death, not this shameful mockery."
Kokujin paused in his smithing, looking
up at Satsu with a thoughtful expression. He set down his blade
and hammer and walked slowly toward his prisoner, arms folded
behind his back. The light of the fire pit reflected off his
muscular form; his tattoos danced in the flickering light. "Little
cousin," he said, looking down at Satsu. "When I sent
you my challenge, did you never pause to wonder why I did not
ask you to bring a Kitsuki?"
Satsu said nothing, only glared fearlessly
at Kokujin.
"Of course not," Kokujin
chuckled. "Your clan stopped thinking when your grandfather
died. I did not ask for a Kitsuki, because I knew they would
warn you not to play my games."
Kokujin rested his hands on Satsu's
shoulders, smiled warmly, and delivered a fierce knee into the
chained man's stomach, so hard that he wretched. Kokujin shoved
Satsu back against the wall and walked back toward the anvil.
"You answered my invitation,
and here you are. Imprisoned," Kokujin said. "You are
a fool, little cousin, and I mock you because that is my right.
If you deserved fair treatment, you would not be in chains."
Satsu stood straight in his bonds and glared at Kokujin. "When
you are the one in chains I will remember you said that."
"Fair enough," Kokujin said without humor. "Can
you kill me, little cousin? Can you succeed where Togashi and
Hitomi failed?"
"If he does not, I will!"
Hitomi Hogai roared.
"Silence, animal, I am talking
to your owner," Kokujin said, glaring at Hogai.
"Togashi and Hitomi did not fail,"
Satsu retorted in a bold voice. "If they suffered you to
live, your life must have served some greater purpose."
Kokujin held up his nearly finished katana, considering its fine
edge. "I agree," he replied in a distant voice. "Togashi
used me. So did Hitomi. I used them in return. Now they are gone
and I am not."
"So you believe you are better than them?" Tamori Chieko
said defiantly. "Togashi and Hitomi reside in the Celestial
Heavens. You hide in a cave with goblins and lunatics."
"This is true," Kokujin
said, pointing at Chieko with the blade. "You are a smart
one. You understand." He looked back at Satsu. "So
few really understand. Satsu understands."
Satsu's eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"Some of the Hoshi monks I have
met believe that you are much like your grandfather," Kokujin
said, hammering on the sword again. "More like him than
your father, even. Sadly, you are incomplete. The monks that
lived long enough to tell me tales believe that you are destined
to wield his blades, and that when you find them you will gain
his wisdom. That is why they were so eager to retrieve Togashi's
daisho from me." Kokujin's eyes met Satsu's as he continued
working the bloodied katana. "That is why I am eager to
return them." He gestured at the golden swords that now
rested on a stand nearby.
"For some reason I find it difficult
to trust your generosity," Satsu said acidly.
"And I thought you understood
me," Kokujin said. "I am a Dragon, Satsu. We are more
alike than you know, and I find I miss the Dragon as they once
were. Without the wisdom of a true god to guide you, the Dragon
Clan is a pale shadow of itself. The mystery is gone. The riddle
is no more." He grinned slowly. "No one gets the joke
without Togashi to explain it. When I finish my blades I will
return your grandfather's daisho and release you, Satsu."
"And you think I will spare your
life then?" Satsu replied.
"Can you kill me?" Kokujin
asked, looking genuinely surprised. "That should be interesting."
"You are insane," Hogai
growled.
Kokujin looked at Hogai, raised one
eyebrow, and sighed. He looked back to his katana to continue
his work, but his shoulders slumped and the hammer fell from
his hands with a clang. "Fu Leng's blood," he swore,
kicking Akuai's limp form. "I thought for certain the old
man would have lasted longer than that. The Bloodspeaker scrolls
claimed the victims would last much longer but then I do suppose
I have been working quicker than they intended. Pity, I was almost
finished." He looked back at Satsu. "Just as well,
I suppose. This brings me to my next point."
"Which is?" Satsu hissed.
"Suffering," Kokujin replied,
flipping the unfinished katana and catching it easily in his
other hand. "Togashi and Hitomi were both very powerful,
but their power was tempered by suffering. It gave them focus,
gave them perspective. If you are to take back your grandfather's
swords, then you must suffer as well, Satsu."
"Do what you will, madman,"
Satsu said, meeting Kokujin's gaze squarely.
"I will," Kokujin said,
sitting on the edge of the anvil and grinning vaguely. "Pick."
"Pick?" Satsu replied. "Pick
what?"
"Pick the anvil's next victim,"
Kokujin said, gesturing at Chieko and Hogai with his sword. "The
pretty little shugenja or the ox. Pick the one you want to watch
die next and which one you want to bring back home."
Satsu's face darkened with rage.
"Pick me, Satsu-sama!" Hogai
shouted. "I am not afraid to die!"
"Oh?" Kokujin asked, running
one finger along his katana as he studied the blade. "This
isn't mere death, Hogai-san. The anvil doesn't just use blood
to power its magic. It uses souls. Whoever Satsu chooses won't
just die in agony." His eyes locked with Satsu's again.
"They will be bound in eternal torment inside my sword."
"Pick me, Satsu-sama," Hogai
repeated, though his face was paler than before.
Chieko said nothing, her eyes fixed
on the ground.
"I choose myself," Satsu
said.
Kokujin rolled his eyes. "So
predictable," he said. "That was not a choice, little
cousin. Your blood won't do. Pick one, or I feed both to the
Anvil. My wakizashi is complete. I only need one to finish my
katana, but I suppose I could use a tanto."
Satsu closed his eyes and lowered
his head.
"Take your time," Kokujin
said in a mocking voice.
"Pick me, Satsu-sama," Hogai
said hoarsely. "I am nothing."
Satsu looked up at Hogai, his golden
eyes tormented. He turned and looked at Chieko. She looked back
at him silently, her expression calm and serene. Satsu looked
back at Kokujin.
"I have made my choice,"
he whispered.
"It is a miracle you are still
alive, Wayan-sama," Togashi Matsuo said, helping the old
monk sit upright against a stone outcropping.
"More like a curse," Wayan
replied, wincing in agony as he settled against Matsuo's bedroll.
The monk's left leg was splinted and heavily bound. His chest
and left eye were covered with bloody bandages. His right arm
hung limp and useless in a sling. "You should have left
me behind."
"Normally I defer to the Order
of Hoshi's timeless wisdom," Mirumoto Rosanjin said, stooping
to spoon some cold rice out of a pot into a bowl. "However,
in this case, I think you're being a fool."
"Am I?" Wayan asked, glaring
at the samurai. "I cannot walk. I can barely be carried.
You cannot pursue Kokujin while dragging a dying old man through
the Twilight Mountains."
"Stop being selfish!" Rosanjin
snapped, glaring at the old monk.
"Selfish?" Wayan asked,
incredulous. "What are you talking about?"
"Rosanjin, you cannot talk to
Master Wayan like that," Matsuo said angrily. "He is
the greatest hero of the Brotherhood."
"Exactly," Rosanjin retorted.
He looked back at Wayan. "Even wounded, you are the most
experienced warrior among us. Matsuo has his tattoos and I have
my swords, but all of our weapons and talents are nothing compared
to your wisdom. Neither of us knows Kokujin as you do. Without
your guidance we are doomed."
"I am dying," Wayan said
in a weak voice. "I will not last the night."
"Then know this, monk,"
Rosanjin replied. If you die, I will follow you into Meido and
drag you back here. So stay alive, you coward." He shoved
the bowl of rice toward Wayan.
"Very well then," Wayan
said in a determined voice. "If you will not let me die
in peace then I have no choice but to live." He took the
bowl from Rosanjin and held it to his mouth, chewing deliberately.
"Let's go patrol, Matsuo," Rosanjin said, rising. "Master
Wayan should be safe here for a while."
Matsuo nodded silently and followed the samurai. He said nothing
more as they made their way through the rocky terrain, his lips
fixed into a thin line.
"You think I was disrespectful,"
Rosanjin whispered as they skulked through the shadows.
"I am no healer, Matsuo,"
Rosanjin said. "It was your knowledge of herbalism that
saved Master Wayan's life, but we both know without a shugenja
he won't last much longer."
"But we both also know that Hoshi
Wayan is the most obstinate man in the northern provinces,"
Rosanjin added. "I said what I did to keep him angry enough
to survive until we can find Chieko."
"You're wrong," Matsuo said
softly.
Rosanjin looked at the tattooed man
curiously.
"You're wrong," he repeated.
"Wayan isn't the most obstinate man in the northern provinces.
That honor belongs to a certain Mirumoto samurai I know."
Rosanjin chuckled. "That may
well be," he said.
Matsuo climbed onto a rocky ledge
and peered out into the darkness. His tattoo became the wolf,
letting his eyes pierce the shadow with ease.
"Any sign?" Rosanjin asked hopefully.
"Of what?" Matsuo replied.
"Anything," Rosanjin answered. "If we could even
find the path back the way we came, at least that would be something."
"Nothing but rocks and trees," Matsuo said, shaking
his head as he climbed back down. "Without Hogai to guide
us, we are lost."
"Damn these mountains to Jigoku,"
Rosanjin swore. "We could wander forever and never find
Shiro Heichi."
"That may be Kokujin's intent,"
Matsuo answered. "His challenge was to Satsu, and perhaps
now he has Satsu. Kobai was not interested in us. Kokujin may
be content to let us wander out here, lost, until we die."
Matsuo sniffed the air carefully. "That may not take long,
either. I smell a storm in the air. This high in the mountains,
that may well mean a blizzard."
"I will not surrender,"
Rosanjin swore. "Not to Kokujin, not to the storm itself.
We will survive, Matsuo, and we will rescue Satsu and the others."
"I hope you are right,"
Matsuo said. The young ise zumi suddenly tensed, sensing something
out of the ordinary. He glanced around warily.
"What is it?" Rosanjin asked,
swords instantly in his hands.
Matsuo pointed just as a small light
appeared in the distance, bobbing its way through the rocky cliffs.
The light was coming swiftly toward them, moving at a rapid pace.
Matsuo and Rosanjin quickly ducked behind a large boulder, peering
out as the light drew closer. They could see now that the light
radiated from a lantern borne by a figure floating up on the
breeze. He was dressed in robes of inky black painted with silver
kanji of the elements. His face was covered with a dark veil.
The wind swirled about him, bearing him easily to the ground.
"Come out, both of you,"
the figure demanded in a surprisingly feminine voice, pushing
back the veil to reveal a woman's face. She looked directly at
Matsuo and Rosanjin. "The earth will not hide you. The mountains
whisper their secrets to me."
"She is one of Kokujin's shugenja,"
Rosanjin whispered, taking out his bow. "One of the ones
that brought the mountain down on us."
"No," Matsuo said, pushing
Matsuo's arm down as he drew an arrow across the bow. "If
she served Kokujin, there would be no warning."
"Unless this is another trap,"
Rosanjin answered.
"Then wait here," Matsuo
said. "I will find out her intent."
"What if she is hostile?"
Rosanjin asked.
"Then I'll try not to stand in
the way of your shot," Matsuo answered.
Matsuo stepped into the light, hands
held out to show he held no weapons. The strange woman's eyes
narrowed when she saw him. "You are tattooed," she
said. "Like the others." A small figure stepped out
from behind her, standing between her and Matsuo. Matsuo thought
it was a goblin, then realized it was a tiny stone man with large,
oval eyes, glowing with a weird blue light. Its arms and legs
were stunted like a doll's.
"Tattooed, yes," Matsuo
said, looking down at the stone man warily, "but not like
the others. I am Togashi Matsuo of the Dragon Clan. My comrades
and I came to fight Kokujin, but we were ambushed. A friend of
ours lies injured not far from here. If you are shugenja, we
would be grateful for your aid. Perhaps we could help one another
find our way out of these mountains."
She looked at him cautiously. "I
am not lost, Dragon," she said with a sneer. "I am
Heichi Jianzhen, and these mountains have belonged to my family
for seven centuries."
"Heichi?" Matsuo replied.
"I thought the Boar Clan were no more."
"Rokugan cared little for my
clan when it was destroyed," she replied. "Why should
anyone care if we survive? We do not need the Empire. We have
the Shakoki Dogu to protect us." She rested one hand on
the tiny stone figure that stood before her. "You were a
fool to bring war to my home, Dragon."
"I do not intend to harm you,"
Matsuo said.
"You could not harm me if you
wished to," Jianzhen replied.
A small tremor passed through the
earth under Matsuo's feet. On impulse, he glanced over one shoulder.
Hundreds of pairs of glowing blue
eyes stared at him from the darkness, hundreds of Shakoki Dogu
moving slowly closer. Their shimmering eyes burned with silent
rage.