A Flash of Lightening
The battle of Asahina Fields had been on a dry, hot day of mid-Autumn, unnatural in all ways. But cold descended quickly in the days following the battle, and hung on to dog their weary steps as they travelled northwards towards Otosan Uchi.
Mirumoto Kenuchio tried his best to ignore the chill, choosing instead to pour over the end of the battle if only to better prepare him for the battles to come. Once he had struck the claw from Hida Yakamo, and Kuni Ren had replaced it, it seemed like the battle only intensified. But in truth, the defeat of the armies of the Shadowlands was already in hand.
About a third of the enemy forces quit the field when Hida Yakamo called for the retreat, those Scorpion and Crab whose souls were not yet lost to the madness of the Shadowlands taint. Still, the undead forces that had followed the False Hoturi pressed closely about them, and it was hard fighting as they withdrew back towards the temple. The enchanted arrows of the Asahina's ashigaru archers provided fair cover, the sky black and green with jade. There was a rumbling, and then the sound of explosions to either side of the valley as the oni moved towards the temple out of the range of the majority of the archers. However, they met the traps of the Daidoji. The sound of fireworks...and the explosions of something far, far stronger than fireworks...filled the air and Kenuchio could catch glimpses from the corner of his eye of oni being ripped apart in balls of fire. Other oni, pressing forward through the ashes of the previous oni, would fall into pits filled with jade-tipped spears, or, if they were clever enough to move around, found themselves engaged with hidden forces of Daidoji saboteurs or caught in unleashed oil and flame or the jade strikes of the few Jade Crab Kuni who remained other than Kuni Ren.
Even so, the numbers of the enemy had been overwhelming. Though they had made it back to Shinden Asahina, the traps had become overwhelmed and the arrows were running out when a mighty shout arose from behind the army of the enemy. It was then that Mirumoto Kenuchio could see the might of the Crab unleashed as Hida Yakamo returned to the battlefield with the forces of the Obsidian Crab behind him. The light of the Jade Hand could be seen even from the walls of Shinden Asahina and it seemed to be with a strange joy that the Obsidian Crab struck at the remaining undead and oni on the field. The backbone of the two tainted armies shattered before the might of Hida Yakamo's forces, and their remaining generals called for a retreat.
Shinden Asahina was free.
Mirumoto Kenuchio could remember slumping to the ground with exhaustion, remember having his wounds tended by an equally exhausted young Asahina, having a cup of water pressed into his hands.
Later, he remembered a blur of meetings, treaties and negotiations between this new Hida Yakamo, the bearer of the Jade Hand, and Doji Hoturi, Doji Kuwanan, and Daidoji Uji. And Sensei, always acting as the diplomat, soothing wounds of honor, pouring salve on rough words. Creating peace between them.
There was little for the magistrates to do, but all had suffered wounds and exhaustion in the battle so they were grateful for the respite.
It was maybe not quite enough time for them to fully recover from their wounds. Kenuchio's still ached. But winter was approaching quickly, and the evil may have retreated but still flooded the Empire from every side. The Emperor had cancelled Winter Court, but if ever there was a time the clans needed to gather and speak, this was it. So now they marched, through the growing autumn chill, towards Kuyden Doji, to free it from any lingering Shadowlands presence, if that were possible, and to treat and plan the next move to save the Empire. The days were long, the nights cold, and there was a weary despair settling in around the Dragon that needed to be fought.
Three hundred Crane soldiers had survived the battle in the Fields of the Morning Sun sufficiently to make the march north, and their troops were led by Doji Hoturi. Daidoji Uji acted as his second in command, while the still injured Doji Kuwanan remained behind in Shinden Asahina until he was able to make the trip north with any additional troops he was able to gather. Each day, the Crane commanders sent riders scouring the villages for any magistrates or bushi that had become cut off and isolated by the battles that had torn the Crane lands apart. Their numbers had grown to five hundred, and they hoped for more before they made Kuyden Doji. Other riders had ridden to the coast to recruit mercenaries and Mantis, opening the Crane treasuries for any aid they could make against the darkness.
Behind the small Crane army marched the larger forces of the Crab. The army was led by Hida Yakamo, but many of his senior advisors, Kenuchio knew, were now dead, executed for the roles they played in pushing the Crab towards a path of darkness and overcome, when taking the test of jade, with the taint. Now Jade Crab and Obsidian Crab eyed each other warily, carefully monitoring for all signs of corruption. Those fallen to the taint not shugenja and deemed still loyal to Hida were kept in a separate unit deep within the Crab ranks and closely monitored by the loyal Kuni. They marched in silence, and seemed eager to die. Kenuchio did not linger near.
The cold wind sent Crane and Crab banners cracking fiercely taut, but also leached out more of his warmth and strength. He found himself worrying about Asahina Ayame and how she might be holding up, and remembering the words of Kaktia Hideyoshi.
Kenuchio looked forward to the fires tonight.
It was an hour before sunset when they reached the outskirts of the open fields around Kuyden Doji. Once the beauty of these lands had been referred to as the Fantastic Gardens of the Doji, but they had been trampled by the forces of the Lion and Doji Hoturi, and now were little more than bowed trees and shattered teahouses buried under an early snow. 'The snow is a blessing of the water kami,' thought Asahina Ayame 'It hides the scars of the lands and lets us recall the memory of beauty.'
The shugenja hurried closer to the hooded ronin who led them, walking side by side with Doji Hoturi. In the march north from Shinden Asahina, the magistrates had seen less and less of him. He was always deep in consultation with Doji Hoturi or Hida Yakamo. Even though he was never without a kindly word, he offered few straight answers. By now, though, she was used to it. Besides, she was so tired, she didn't even have the energy to ask.
The Crane Champion, or acting Champion, raised his hand to call a halt and the signal ran down the line. By now, the Crane banners had managed to gather about seven hundred samurai to their cause, and the Crab, no longer separated by the barriers of Obsidian and Jade, had gathered about two thousand, though there were rumored to be at least two thousand more here with the forces that had remained with Hida Kisada after his failed attack on Otosan Uchi. As Hoturi sent runners ahead to determine a place to camp, Ayame moved aside to stand with her fellow magistrates while Hida Yakamo came forward from the Crab forces to join them.
Shyly, she slipped her icy hand into the hand of Mirumoto Kenuchio. It was all she dared do; but they'd grown closer over the last month, and with death so close it seemed like she should seize the moments she could. She felt his warm fingers close around hers. Hoturi, Sensei, and Yakamo stepped forward to the red torii arch to enter the gardens.
A figure that seemed far too large to have been hiding beside the torii arch, stepped out in front of them, startling Ayame. The man who met them was even larger and more muscular than Hida Yakamo. He wore armor of gold lacquered with green, and a mighty kabuto on his head. Covering his face completely, all save his eyes, was a featureless mempo. The helm cast even his eyes in darkness, but they shone with golden light from behind that mighty mask. They held an intensity that made Ayame tremble.
Mirumoto Kenuchio immediately released her hand and dropped to one knee, while the others around her, including the acting Champions and Sensei, bowed deeply. Ayame, of course, did likewise.
Sensei straightened from his bow, and Ayame was surprised to detect a note of familiarity and cheer in his voice.
"Togashi Yokune-dono. Please may I introduce Hida Yakamo-sama of the reunited Crab Clan, and Doji Hoturi-sama, of the Crane." He bowed again.
The mighty armored figure bowed in return to the three men who stood before him. When all had straightened, his rumbling, deep voice seemed to resonate in the very stones beneath their feet.
"Shinsei. Thunders. I greet you."
The figure, the one called Togashi Yokune, then looked past the ronin, the Crab, and the Crane. Ayame could feel his eyes sweep across her and her fellow magistrates, towards the southwestern horizon.
His voice rumbled again, and it seemed to rattle the shugenja's bones. "A flash of lightning. All is in readiness. It is time. Follow me."
Ayame straightened and shared a glance with her fellow magistrates, a thousand questions pouring into her head at once, and, perhaps, two answers.
They followed Togashi Yokuni in silence as he led the armies of the Crane and Crab towards an area of encampment. No one dared say a word.
The bowl of hot soup with seaweed and fish was a welcome change after the pickled vegetables and cold rice so common to their forced march, and Hiruma Izuko was going to make the most of it. She found a place to settle by the Crane Champion's fire; she was probably unworthy by rank, but their service to Sensei...Shinsei...and Doji Hoturi... had earned them the spot for one last day, at least.
She wondered if she'd be sent to join the rest of the Light Infantry in the Crab forces. Or perhaps Toshimoko was here? There were troops enough. The entire area was lit with campfires as far as the eye could see. Kenuchio had already left to visit his father.
Doji Hoturi was sitting quietly nearby and eating his own soup with his back turned away from her, ignoring the Magistrates and everyone else to be alone in his thoughts. He'd left the House of the Nightingale behind but the Willow World was still in him, even after the Battle of Asahina Fields, and the Magistrates respected him enough to allow him his peace and privacy. The politics for him would begin soon enough, with the formal meetings of the Clan Champions and Generals beginning tomorrow.
Izuko shook her head. "I don't even care about the politics and the discussions they're having tomorrow. As long as they point out a direction and hand me a bow, I'll be content at this rate." Beside her, Moto Koshi nodded in agreement
"You don't care about politics, Hiruma-san? How very Crab of you," A sweet voice said softly beside her, and she pulled away in surprise. She'd never even seen the speaker approach, though the voice was familiar.
Her eyes met another's...a pair of familiar brown eyes with an expression hidden behind a soft pink scarf. Izuko could bet, however, the expression was a smirk. "Mai!"
The young Yakuza they had known in Otosan Uchi nodded and straightened to give the Hiruma and Moto a bow. Other than the scarf, she was dressed in a lightweight black armor. A pair of sai were tucked into her obi. as was one other thing that had never been there before...a beautiful, black-lacquered wakizashi. "Izuko-san," Mai offered cordially. "I am so glad you are alive and I would love to catch up on all the latest gossip, but I'm afraid there is something I must do first. Please excuse me."
Izuko and Koshi followed the young woman with their eyes, and from the opposite side of the fire, Ayame also realized who had approached and watched her silently.
Mai did not flinch but held her head up proudly as she walked straight up to Doji Hoturi. When she drew near she coughed politely.
Doji Hoturi turned to face her. His eyes narrowed questioningly, and then he smiled. "Akiyoshi-san! I had hoped to see you again. I take it your return to join the army of ronin being built by Toturi-san was successful. Does that mean he is here now?"
Moto Koshi raised his eyebrow questioningly, but Izuko just shook her head silently.
Mai bowed to the Crane Lord. "I am surprised you remember so much, Hoturi-sama, considering. We traveled far together to escape to the House of the Nightingale, but you were not in a position to understand complex matters. But now you must know. And, I hope, come to accept my sincere apology."
Hoturi frowned, a puzzled crease forming between his black eyes as he studied Mai. His face grew hard as he studied the woman before him carefully. "Go on, Akiyoshi-san." He set down his empty bowl of soup and stood to face her.
Mai straightened to look Hoturi in the eye. "I have never lied to you, not once. However, not is all as you think. I am not the ronin Akiyoshi. I never gave you my name, though you remember correctly that Akiyoshi is what others called me. Such is the name of a skilled actress who wears my face while performing as a geisha for the Emperor. For myself, considering my clan is exiled, I certainly could be considered ronin. My brothers were killed during the Scorpion Clan Coup, while my father died shortly before. And when I left you, I did go to join Toturi's Army, as I said I would.." She gestured at the magistrates nearby, including Izuko. "I have also never lied to these magistrates, though they know me far differently. When they lived in Otosan Uchi, they knew me as a crime lord, the leader of the Red Cloud Yakuza, by the name of Mai. And that is my true name and one of my roles, but it also is not all. For my name is Bayushi Mai and I am the true Champion of the Scorpion Clan."
The magistrates and the Crane Champion all grew very still, watching the young woman. The silence stretched between them, Mai smiling pleasantly the whole time, until Doji Hoturi spoke again. His on hid all expression and his voice was flat when he spoke. "I thought the Champion of the Scorpion was Bayushi Shoju." he said softly. "The Scorpion were disbanded. Only the Empress remains. Bayushi Kachiko."
Mai bowed deeply, the expression in the dark eyes above her pink scarf calmly sympathetic. "Yes. Very few even within the clan know of the secret of human masks. Bayushi Kachiko has been my mask, as Bayushi Shoju served as my father's. It is...difficult...when your mask decides it is not content to be only a mask, but decides to act out of its own will."
Hoturi frowned, and gestured at Mai to continue. The magistrates looked at each other.
Mai just looked amused. "The Scorpion can be justifiably accused of many things, Hoturi-san. But foolishness should not be one of them. Each Scorpion wears an outer face," she gestures at her scarf, "and an inner face. The outer face can be disposed of. Changed. Removed at need. It is the acknowledgement that we wear many faces and play many parts. But certain people themselves act as the outer face of the whole clan. As such, they are public, held up to public scrutiny, and requiring...at times...public removal. But in a world of changing faces, public and private, the inner face must retain the blood so the blood cannot be lost. The inner face expresses the heart. The inner face must provide the conscience and speak unquestioned truth. The direct descendants of Bayushi, then, have long worn human masks, to be the public faces of the clan, while secretly directing the clan from within."
The young woman coolly scanned the group of magistrates and Hoturi. Her expression seemed calm, but Izuko could tell from the way she looked at her that anyone who chose to mention this in public would likely end up dead very promptly.
Mai's gaze switched back to Hoturi. "Shoju's treason was not first against the Emperor. It was first against my father. He wished to be real. He convinced himself he deserved to be so, that my father's authority was a lie, a plot against him. My father and brothers died when I was only a child, but I was hidden away, protected by the faction of the Scorpion that knew the truth. When he was killed, Kachiko, now inheriting her role as a mask for me, knew it likely that I existed, but not where. I have...made things clear to her since then."
She stepped back, and gave a full bow of apology to Doji Hoturi. "I am still responsible for the actions of my clan. Bayushi Kachiko used my clan against you to extract personal vengeance for the death of the son you share. The Scorpion's loyalty, however distasteful the other clans may find it, should always be to the Empire, not to our own ambition, or our own revenge. I am here to offer my apologies, Doji Hoturi. And this."
She held something out to the Crane Champion. Izuko, mind reeling at what Mai's words implied, dragged her eyes from the two faces to that which Mai held in her hands...a long braid of dark brown hair, tied at either end with a blue ribbon.
Doji Hoturi's face was as pale as the snow as he accepted the braid Mai pressed into his hands. He did not answer her, instead just staring down at it.
Mai straightened. "And that is enough apologizing." Her voice was tart, even cheery. "The past won't resolve the future. Bayushi Kachiko probably has words for you, but she knows where her loyalty lies now. The prophecy Shoju was pursuing was not incorrect after all. The last Hantei fell with the last Akodo. Now it is time to put to rest another beast that wears another's face. "
She started to turn and walk away, a strut in her step, but just as she was about to leave the circle of firelight, she turned back to look at the magistrates' perfectly frozen faces. "Ha! Such control. These samurai do not even blink. And they say we wear masks."
She disappeared into the shadows.
The Dragon encampment was the strangest of all in the blossoming tent city that had come to surround the wreck that was Kuyden Doji this Winter Court. For moving in and out amongst the tents from an encampment just beyond the garden borders, were great, shadowy, slithering shapes in the darkness. Things, creatures, with the body of a man or woman and the tail of a giant snake of inconceivable size. They made Mirumoto Kenuchio shudder to look upon them, but he kept his tongue still and any thoughts firmly locked in his head. These beings, strangely enough, were the allies of his clan, and he did not dare to question or challenge that alliance. The Empire had enough enemies as is.
But it was not to come gawk at the naga that Kenuchio had come to the Dragon encampment this evening.
Once they had arrived, he put out an inquiry to determine which families of the Dragon were encamped on the Doji plains. He learned his father was here. Tonight, he was going to go speak to him.
"Sssssssumimasssssssssssen, Dragon-sssan." The voice was a sibilant hiss.
Kenuchio jumped back.
Before him, stretching out like a log across the path before him, a long round body. And rising from the shadows of the tents next to him, the body of a man who seemed impossibly tall. His skin was glistening and naked, save for the do and sode he wore, and the glittering scales across his skin. The being bowed at the...waist? and moved his tail aside, clearing the path for Kenuchio.
Kenuchio was flustered, but returned the bow. "It is nothing, Naga-san."
The naga straightened, and slithered on its way with a nod of acknowledgement.
Kenuchio struggled to find his center again, and then hurried on to his father's tent.
Mirumoto Iyeasu was a grim man with a hawklike nose and long, gray hair tied up in a cue. He had served as a member of the Mirumoto House Guard for many years, and was now committed to defending the current brother and sister who led the family. To Kenuchio's eyes, he seemed just as remote as the snowy peaks of the mountains he had grown up in....in other words, no different at this moment than he had been the day Kenuchio had left to report to the capital on his Champion's orders so many years before.
The guards who had let him let the tent flap fall, leaving the pair their privacy.
Kenuchio bowed. "Otosama," he offered politely. "It is good to see you again."
From behind his writing desk, his father returned the bow, though the reserve that had always been there remained. "And you, also. I heard you fought honorably at the Battle of Beidan Pass. You have my congratulations."
Mirumoto Kenuchio bowed again. "Thank you, Father. How is Mother?"
"She is well. She was pleased to receive your letter regarding the request to marry." The older Dragon kept his voice perfectly neutral, and Kenuchio felt a pang of nervousness regarding the letter he had sent so long before. "She believes that it is about time you moved on to consider such things."
"Hai, Otosama. I had hoped there would be the opportunity to speak with you this winter about that. Asahina Ayame is beautiful, talented, and courageous. Her father served in the Ministry of Calligraphy and Seals before his death and she is of noble family. I would be honored to have her as a wife."
Iyeasu eyed his son up and down. "So you said." He frowned. "Despite the scandalous behavior of the Crane clan in the last year, we did not dismiss the request out of hand. Perhaps, under some circumstances, it could have been considered beneficial. But an Asahina is truly useless in a time of war, and the Dragon have no need of one. Her rank is high enough with her father's role in the ministry that the Doji might require you to marry into their clan, and then the skills you have spent a lifetime refining would indeed be useless. Unless you plan sitting around composing poetry all day?" Iyeasu's tone was withering. "You could, perhaps, curry favor for the Dragon in court. But what court? Things have changed, Kenuchio-san. This match does not serve the clan."
Kenuchio thought he could hear a buzzing in his ears as his head grew light with raw disbelief. All that had happened, all that Ayame and he had been through together, her courage and grace in the face of death, and his own father said she did not bring enough to the Dragon Clan? His voice was tight, and to his ears he felt a child again. "But mother said...you said she was pleased..."
The older Mirumoto held up his hand to cut the younger off. "Kenuchio-kun. Your mother was pleased that marriage entered your considerations. You have grown much in the last few years. We have received a very promising and honorable offer for your marriage. It will mean leaving the clan, but with it comes the promise of the renewal of old alliances, turning an enemy into a friend for our future battles. The one who made the offer is one the Dragon, and specifically the Mirumoto, owe a large debt to, one that we are required to repay."
Kenuchio closed his eyes against the roaring in his ears. "And who am I to wed?" He sounded distant to himself.
"A young woman, kuge of the Hidden Scorpion Clan. A number of years younger than you, but pretty. It was you she has chosen, and it was for you she sought out Lord Togashi. He has approved it. "
Stunned silence.
Iyeasu nodded once, sharply. "Good. I knew you would understand. When Bayushi Mai-sama returned Hitomi-sama to us, and replaced her missing hand with that magical artifact, there was no way the Mirumoto could allow our debt to go unpaid. We all must make small sacrifices in service of the clan. I am sure you will see that the arrangements are properly made before spring."
Kenichio felt sick, but there was nothing to say. "Hai, Otosan." He bowed before leaving as fast as he could. How would he ever tell Ayame?
Shinsei.
Moto Koshi rolled the word around in his head, trying to get used to the sound. Shinsei and the Seven Thunders.
The Day of Thunder.
The end of the world.
Shinsei had told the magistrates to wait for him, and so they had waited. The front hall of Kuyden Doji was mostly intact, save for where once the heavy door that had blocked entrance had been. The door and the area around it were torn loose, allowing snow to drift in. The door that led to the main chamber, on the other hand, was firmly shut against them. A few times, they’d been asked to bring food or paper or sake. But other than that, there was nothing to do except wait.
“Let me pass!” The man’s voice was thunderous. The magistrates all jumped to attention as an intimidating figure pushed his way past the door guards into the entrance hall, followed by eight armed bushi.
It took Koshi a moment to register the leader’s mons. He was very tall, dressed in a green kimono with a broad shouldered kataginu that made him look even larger than he was. He had a severe, weather-beaten face, green eyes, and long black hair heavily seeded with gray. After a moment, Koshi recognized the mons as marking him as a member of the minor Mantis clan. But he showed no modesty normally associated with members of the minor clans as he forced his way forward, and with the deference showed him by the others that followed him, he had to be a leader of significant rank. Likely the clan daimyo, the one known as Yoritomo.
The magistrates bowed, and Moto Koshi stepped forward. “My apologies, Yoritomo-sama. The clan champions have requested privacy within for their deliberations. But I would be happy to insure that a message is carried to them so they can meet with you as soon as they break.”
A low rumbling started to build in the Mantis Daimyo’s throat. He was not interested in waiting any longer and certainly was not interested in being thwarted by this Unicorn magistrate. He took a menacing step forward, and a thousand options flashed before Koshi’s eyes, each leading to an enormous and ugly political incident. Fortunately, he was saved when Shinsei opened the door within.
“Yoritomo-sama. You are welcome. Please forgive these magistrates; they are doing their duty well, but were not informed you would be attending.”
Yoritomo sighed, a sound more of frustration than weariness, and followed Shinsei inside. The door shut behind them.
The eight other Mantis stepped out to join the other guards on the main entrance, leaving the magistrates in the entrance hall again.
To wait.
And wait.
And wait.
Several hours later, Yoritomo left the meeting looking smugly satisfied. He did not even acknowledge the magistrates as he disappeared into the darkening gardens with his bushi.
Another two hours passed and it was late in the evening when those in the room finally emerged.
Doji Hoturi, looking tired and pale after the long day of deliberations.
Hida Yakamo, the Jade Hand glowing with an inner light in the shadows.
Bayushi Mai, a smirk of dark humor in her warm brown eyes.
Togashi Yokuni, golden eyes glittering behind the mempo he still wore.
Those they had sceen very recently. But there were others they knew, but it had been long since they had seen them.
Otaku Kamoko, looking glorious and defiant in her white and purple armor, grown only more beautiful since they’d seen her in her camp in the Moto lands.
Toturi the Black, his kimono worn and fraying, gray streaking his temples, aged a lifetime since the Scorpion Clan Coup when they had presented him the Sword of the Hantei.
Mirumoto Hitomi, her missing hand now replaced, they could see, with a hand formed of crystalline darkness, a derisive sneer the magistrates' only reward for their protection during the Battle of Beidan Pass.
Kakita Toshimoko, clad in the armor of the Emerald Champion, who did not hesitate to give them a wink and a smile as he sauntered past.
And two others they had not met.
Isawa Tadaka, emerged, his face masked by his broad-rimmed hat and the black cloths he’d bound around his face and hands. Moto Koshi could smell the stench of taint upon him, could see his glowing green eyes and the black fire about him. It would be enough to challenge, but he was not alone. Shiba Ujimitsu, the Phoenix Clan champion, looking calm and assured, walked by his side. Shinsei had made clear that the Phoenix were to be accepted, even trusted, despite what had happened to Isawa Natsune. The magistrates in this had to follow their orders and hope the monk knew what he was doing.
The magistrates waited until the various dignitaries dispersed. Finally Shinsei emerged alone.
The Hooded Ronin spoke with one of the door guards, and beckoned the magistrates into the room the Champions and Thunders had so recently left. The room was littered with sake bottles and maps and books of prophesy and the Tao, but Shinsei ignored all to lead them towards the fire. Rice and vegetables were brought then the servants were dismissed. The man they had known and traveled with for so long accepted his rice, then looked at them with a smile.
“You have been very patient, but I think you have more than earned answers. Please go ahead and ask all your questions. I will have no more secrets here.
Izuko was direct. “You are Shinsei, correct? The Shinsei?”
The man they had followed nodded. “His descendant, indeed. Come into the world again when the time was right for me to do so.”
Kenuchio cut in. “Then they,” he gestured at those who had just left. “Are the Seven Thunders, and the Day of Thunder is coming. Fu Leng is loose in the world.”
Shinsei nodded again. “The Seven and a few others. Fu Leng is loose in the world. But in this room were those who have the wherewithal to defeat him. And he will be defeated.”
Ayame was more hesitant. “Fu Leng has replaced the Emperor, hasn’t he? That is why he was doing the things he has done.”
The Hooded Ronin looked down into the flames. “Sadly, yes. It was partially, perhaps, due to the deeds of Bayushi Kachiko. It was partially the weight of prophecy. Primarily though, it was the endless nature of the challenge between Tengoku and Jigoku that led the Empire to this moment. All that was Hantei is gone from the Emperor. Only Fu Leng remains.”
Ayame nodded, withdrawing into herself.
But Koshi had little patience now, at the end, for the prophecies of the age. He wanted direct answers. “We are in this room. You sought us out too. What role do we play in all of this?”
Shinsei smiled again, pleased with the question. “Yes. You have touched so many of these events. Preceded them. Followed them. That little flash on the horizon. The pebble by which the avalanche is begun. You are called, yes. Just as much as they. But you are not the same.”
The magistrates drew forward to listen. Shinsei continued.
“There never were just the Thunders. The Thunders are heroes of the age. They will be the ones remembered, the foundation upon which the next age rests. But what if the next age is a dark one? It still would rest on the legend and will of the Thunders. The Dark Thunders. Traitors. Murderers. Foes wholly sworn to evil. Foes who, just as those before us in this room, would do anything to ensure their victory.”
The teacher smiled. “But evil does not understand the greatest strengths of bushido. Evil grounds itself in selfishness. In a thousand selfish decisions that steer towards their end. But Good grounds itself in selflessness, and therefore has the power of creation, making a whole that is greater than the sum of all of its parts. Just that tiny bit more, that small contribution offered without personal gain, made for the good of all…that is the advantage Good has over Evil. While Jigoku can raise fanatics to act as dark mirrors to the Seven Thunders, it is blind to the thousand of little decisions and sacrifices that, bound together, will stop those Dark Thunders.”
He turned to each one of the magistrates in turn. “A group of samurai, seemingly selected at random from the wideness of Ningen-do. United only by the sacrifice within their hearts. You, my friends, are the flash of lightening that precedes the Thunder. You will be the hand of Tengoku to strike at the Dark Thunders before they can prevent the chosen seven from reaching Fu Leng, the avatar of Jigoku. You will light the way. The Thunders arise as the avatars of Tengoku. You stand for the mortal man.”
The Day of Thunder
The battle raged around them, but the magistrates followed the orders Shinsei had given and took no part, doing what they could to stay away from the thrust and parry of the forces on the field save when such forces came to directly intercept them. It rarely did. They carried no banner, their armor, as it had been since Western Hub Village, was indistinguishable from any other minor bushi on the field. A squad of goblins, quickly cut down, and a few air spells to ward off any intercepting arrows as they moved towards the walls of Otosan Uchi. The armies of the Empire pressed forward.
The gates, though. Fortified by timber as thick across as a man, hauled into place with the power of ogres, there was no way that even the siege engines of the Kaiu or the spells of the shugenja would not prevail against its might. Not that any could close on those gates anyway. For in command of the outer wall of Otosan Uchi was an insane man who rained fire and death upon all those who drew near. The Master of Fire, Isawa Tsuke.
Warriors burned, engineers burned. And Tsuke stood on the battlements laughing.
The closer the magistrates drew to the walls, the harder it was to avoid the flames and the more intense the fighting became. There had reached a stalemate as the armies were trapped before the walls and the flames of Isawa Tsuke.
The armies of the Phoenix, led by Isawa Tadaka and Shiba Ujimitsu, were the forces able to close the furthest on Tsuke’s fiery hellscape, strengthened by their gifts. Great boulders tore through the sky towards the Master of Fire, but he knocked them away with his flames easily. The magistrates had to shelter their eyes from the heat and flames, not daring to approach further. They could barely see the flash of red and gold that was Shiba Ujimitsu…somehow…leap from the ground to the top of the battlements at the maddened shugenja’s side, and plunge a katana into Tsuke’s fiery robes.
Isawa Tsuke exploded. The nearest section of outer wall of Otosan Uchi was devastated in the eruption of power and flame, coming crumbling to the ground where every previous siege engine and ram had failed. The magistrates could not see the body of Ujimitsu as he came tumbling to the ground, blinded as they were from the glare. The armies surged forward to capture the breach and enter the outer city. In a momentary break from the fighting, the magistrates heard a bright clarion call of a woman’s voice cry out to the Phoenix army “Shiba Arises!” The Phoenix troops roared their Utz and charged forward.
The magistrates slipped in behind the front of the charge, finding themselves in the familiar haunts of the Toyotomi district of Otosan Uchi. There was fighting all around them, but the mission they have been given by Shinsei was clear. And here, in this district, they knew every alley and basement.
The streets, however familiar they might have been once, were in another sense completely alien to them now. An oozing green mist seeped from the cracks between the buildings. The daily bustle of carts and shops and the turnings of small lives had come to a complete stop. The air was scented with the breath of death. The familiar corner of the papershop, the fishmonger, all empty now. The samurai ducked in and around the knots of fighting, traversing the back streets, making their way deeper and deeper into the city. Further in and across, through parts of other districts now, less certain, towards their destination. The South Wall of Otosan Uchi. The place where their story began.
Their orders from Shinsei were clear. They alone, of all the people in the empire, had traversed successfully the South Wall. The Thunders, while mighty, suffered terrible flaws. Their flaws gave them strength. But the South Wall, the only wall that allowed the outflow of water through it to go down to the sea, and therefore, the only wall with passages below it to allow effluent to escape, had been built by the Crane. Its enchantments created the most severe challenges to both will and honor. The magistrates had survived the passage out. The more serious test was returning.
The fighting was still near the outer wall as they approached the south wall of the inner city. They found the hidden doorway that led down into the stormwater drainage, granting passage for the water back to the ocean. Fortunately, the area was mostly empty; the true strength of the tainted followers of the Emperor, of Fu Leng, were fighting at the gate. They'd only faced a few goblin patrols so far. Moto Koshi pulled up the hidden trap door and, one at a time, they lowered themselves down.
A thin channel of water trickled past their feet. Although they expected this dark place to be filled with the greenish fog that swathed the city, this close to the sacred wall, all taint of evil recoiled. Still, as they approached the underpinnings of the wall itself, glowing white mist arose around and between them, muffling sound, dividing sight, separating them. The challenges of the south wall were to be faced alone.
Mirumoto Kenuchio lost track of the others, gone in the white mists. But, emerging from the uncertainty before him a shadowed figure stepped. As it drew close to him, he could see its face, the mirror of his own. The figure drew katana and wakizashi, again, the mirror to his own. He did likewise.
The figure only voiced these words, “Turn back, or die.”
Kenuchio shook his head. “I cannot.”
The figure paused. “I see your failures. I know all that you have done. You have not even told her, have you? Your dishonor will destroy you.” It plunged forward to attack.
The moments seemed to last forever, and it was possible than none of them could fully describe the battles each of them made against their own worst selves in the darkness under the South Wall. However, finally, each of them pushed through the mist to reach the stormdrains on the other side. They rested, not speaking, though Kenuchio felt Ayame’s eyes watching him and could see the wounded expression that haunted them. Once the magistrates had recovered enough, they continued until they could reach the point they originally entered the drains as they were escaping with the sword of the Hantei.
The inner city was not deserted, but most of the forces of Fu Leng had been emptied onto the plains or into the city. The green mist returned and, while vile, it helped to shelter them from all eyes. When a pack of curious bakemono stumbled upon them, they were dispatched quickly enough. Ayame raised her hands in healing again.
“I need to get something,” Matsumoto Eiko said after the latest fight. “We will not survive like this.” She led them away from the gates and up to the Shrine of the Seven Fortunes, one of the holiest places in Rokugan.
Though the city was fast becoming defiled, the Shrine of the Seven Fortunes had not faltered, at least not yet. Its purity shone and the green mists recoiled from it. Eiko hurried the others along and headed straight for the doors.
The temple itself was empty of the tainted, samurai, or monks, and Eiko opened the doors without trouble. Eerie quiet pervaded the sacred space. Each of the seven great shrines opened onto the central courtyard, and, lying in the center of the courtyard, a large, cracked bell.
Eiko led them past the bell directly to the Shrine to the fortune Bishamon, where he stood in all his stately glory, an ancient naginata in one hand, and a castle in the other. She knelt before the statue, closed her eyes, and pressed her face to the ground. Unwilling to not share her full reverence for the Fortune, the other samurai did the same.
“Great Bishamon, Fortune of Strength,” Eiko intoned, “The time has come for the Empire to stand and fight the greatest evil it has known in a thousand years. My name is Matsumoto Eiko, servant of the Celestial Dragons, born of the line of Matsumoto, and guardian of the city. Lord Bishamon, please grant to me my family’s birthright, so that the Thunders may fulfill their destiny and we may do what we must.”
With that prayer, she stood, stepped forward, and firmly lay her hand on the shaft of Bishamon’s great naginata, and suddenly, though no one exactly saw when it had been released, the naginata was free, and Eiko was holding it in her hands. She looked at it with a small, satisfied smile, and bowed again. “I thank you, Lord Bishamon, and promise to return this to you when today’s fighting is done.”
Then she turned to the others. “This is not for fighting,” she explained. “It is to give the chance for strength to be victorious. So my family has guarded and served for many centuries, since long before the days of Ichuban.”
The others nodded, and Koshi grunted. “Let’s go. We need to be by the gate before the drums begin.”
They made their way to a small Seppun guardhouse near the wall, fortunately near the gates, that had been left deserted. As the day’s fighting continued, they could do nothing,¬ save for Hiruma Izuko who slipped out of the guardhouse to determine exactly what forces held the gate itself. After about two hours, the sound of taiko drums began, its sacred rhythm driving lesser tainted creatures away, warning all that the battle had grown near.
It was the cue that they should strike.
The magistrate’s strike on the two ogres that guarded the gate mechanism was swift and silent, for Asahina Ayame had cast a spell that would prevent all sound from traveling further from the gates. Izuko and Koshi’s initial arrows wounded the ogres before they could see what was facing them, and Eiko and Kenuchio closed swiftly to defeat them. As soon as the ogres were felled, they ran to the gate mechanism and began to turn the heavy wheel that opened the gates just enough to allow Shinsei and the seven Thunders to pass.
Bayushi winked at Mirumoto Kenuchio as she entered. Asahina Ayame turned away, hiding her expression. Doji Hoturi gave the magistrates a weary nod. Shinsei favored them with a smile, a crow sitting on his shoulder. “Well done,” he offered. “Only one more task for you to fulfill.” Once the Thunders were rested, the magistrates followed the Thunders up the road to the Imperial Palace.
Nothing challenged them on the road to the palace. What could dare? They reached the barred great doors to the Imperial Palace.
As if they sensed the approach of the Thunders, the great doors slowly swung open. Standing at the doors, still holding the mechanism that pulled them open, was the most staggeringly beautiful woman the magistrates had ever seen. Hair the color of a raven’s wing cascaded like silk across her perfect shoulders. Her kimono of scarlet and gold matched the red of her lacy mask and the ruby hue of her enticing lips. Her eyes were pools of midnight and promises, but were darkened with the colors of grief and long suffering. Every samurai in the Empire knew her name: Bayushi Kachiko. The Empress.
The Empress lifted her head, and her eyes met the black eyes of Doji Hoturi. The magistrates could not see the private expressions shared between the two at that moment, but they did see the beautiful woman kneel before the Crane Champion.
“Forgive me,” she said quietly.
Doji Hoturi closed his eyes as he chose to allow her words to reach him, though the magistrates knew, better than any other here, perhaps, the depth of pain that this woman had caused him. He reached out to her and offered his hand. “Arise, My Lady. We must move forward.”
Bayushi Kachiko took the offered hand and stood, but she frowned at Hoturi’s response. She picked up her lantern, turned back to the group of Thunders, and said, “Follow me.”
The palace was a maze of shadowed halls but all was echoing silence. Kachiko led the way swiftly through the darkness until she emerged under the pillared veranda that surrounded an interior courtyard garden. A familiar figure emerged out of the shadows.
“He is in the Throne Room. Togashi challenges him now.” Bayushi Mai said simply. “No others have joined yet, but a summons has gone out. There are sounds in the palace. It will be a matter of moments before he is joined.” She pointed to the large doors on the other side of the garden. “The throneroom is just beyond. “
Mai then turned to Kachiko. “You should go and hide yourself. You are not trained in combat. You can do nothing here.”
Kachiko’s eyes blazed, but she bowed to the fifteen-year-old girl.
Shinsei turned to the magistrates who had come with him. His eyes were kind and sad, knowing well that his next words may consign them to their deaths. “Matsumoto Eiko. Moto Koshi. Hiruma Izuko. Mirumoto Kenuchio. Asahina Ayame. You are to wait here. The Dark Thunders are moments behind us. It is your task to delay them. Defeat them if you are able. Let no enemy pass that door.” He gave them a bow. “This is your time.”
They returned the bow to Shinsei and the Thunders, but nothing else needed to be said. It needed to be done, though an icy lance of fear struck Hiruma Izuko’s heart. She, at least, had not forgotten that at least half the enemies were shugenja. The magistrates took up a position in the inner courtyard, ready to defend the doors to the throneroom with their lives.
From within the Throneroom, they could hear the sounds of words spoken in a strange, hissing language, the crashing and swirling and rumbling of some great combat. Hida Yakamo pulled open the door to enter, and the other Thunders followed in after him. Shinsei entered last, leaving the magistrates alone in the courtyard with Bayushi Kachiko.
The woman waited in the courtyard with them for a moment or two, just long enough for the Thunders to begin their engagement with their enemy. She turned to the magistrates directly and looked at them with eyes full of burning contempt…and guilt. “You may stay if you wish,” she answered, chin lifted with pride. “I have debts I will repay. And I will earn Hoturi’s forgiveness before I will allow him to die.”
Moto Koshi stepped aside to allow the Empress to pass through the doors. They fell shut behind her.
The magistrates shared a look between each other as they were left alone in the courtyard.
“The Dark Thunders,” said Asahina Ayame. “If they see us, they could simply go another way in. Or through a wall. We saw the Kitsu turn himself into bees. They could even summon an oni.”
Matsumoto Eiko nodded. “The naginata and the power of Bishamon will act against them, and maho will not work near it. But we must be faster than they.
Mirumoto Kenuchio gestured to the garden. “Perhaps they won’t expect to be met. They have chosen to wait until the battle is well joined, so they are confident in their lord. They have no reason to believe we would be here.”
The samurai scattered themselves across the garden, waiting in ambush. The garden seemed empty except for the four standing lanterns that marked the path to the Throne Room.
They did not need to wait long.
A high-pitched nasal laughter preceded them. “When we’re done, I want the Unicorn. So pretty…so very pretty.” It came from a spry, unpleasant-looking man they recognized: the Kitsu shugenja they had fought for the soul of Matsu’s first husband. Kitsu Bashu.
A deep pitched grunt. “No so pretty when I’m finished with her.” The man who went with those words was a hulking tower of a man, with his face painted in white and black. He carried over his shoulder a massive weapon, like an iron staff with blades on either end. They didn’t recognize him, but Koshi remembered his father’s description: Kuni Genru.
A woman laughed nervously. “I still think we must be careful. Isawa Tadaka is a powerful shugenja.” She wore the colors of an Iuchi shugenja, her long hair threaded through with gray. Around her neck, she carried twin strings of round yellow gourds, like giant prayer beads crossing her chest. “He will never expect my polvara, but we should be quiet and not attract the attention of the Thunders until we strike.” Iuchi Kyoru.
A man clad in black, a mask over his face, chortled quietly. “Besides,” he said barely above a whisper. “The Crane is much prettier.” With the mask, they could only guess that his identity was Bayushi Joro.
“Enough! I may need to associate with you for the good of our lord, but I am not required to listen to your blasphemous prattle.” THAT one many in the Empire, including the magistrates,would have recognized, at least by his mons. Asako Monoro, Head Inquisitor of the Phoenix. Ayame felt a familiar chill.
The next who entered the small inner garden they also recognized, as the Agasha courtier who had led Hitomi so far astray in her attacks on Unicorn Lands. “No need to fight...we simply are here to serve the Dark Lord. Though...I sense a presence in this courtyard....” Agasha Sano.
The last of the seven did not speak, but immediately fell into stance, resting his hand palm-up on the grip of his katana. His long white hair hung around him. Daidoji Hitsuo.
Asahina Ayame didn’t wait; she knew her role. From her position hiding in the shadows on the far edge of the garden, she immediately cast the spell that she had prepared. An explosion of wind surrounded the entire garden in a circular wall of wind, trapping the magistrates and the Dark Thunders in the confines of the garden. It would not last against a concerted effort to dispel it, but for the moment, it kept the Dark Thunders trapped within. Her hope was to at least buy time for the Thunders by prevent the Dark Thunders from getting past or leaving.
Some kind fortune was with them, for the winds whipped so fiercely that they knocked over one of the standing lanterns that had been lighting the courtyard, turning the whirlwind, momentarily, into a circle of fire. The fire licked out at the Dark Thunders that had been startled in the courtyard, and lashed out at them. A tongue of flame touched Iuchi Kyoru. She screamed and pulled away, but it was too late. The polvara that tainted her clothes and the gourds she carried hungrily seized the flame and exploded, sending a great fireball throughout the courtyard. The Kitsu and the Agasha stumbled in the blast.
The other Magistrates took no time at all in attacking, leaping out from hiding to strike out at their attackers. Asako Monoro immediately tried to pull away from the attackers to give himself the space to cast a spell, but Hiruma Izuko darted from the shadows and struck, burying her blade in his chest. He fell to his knees, bleeding heavily.
Matsumoto Eiko dove at Bayushi Joro, the purity of Bishamon’s naginata cutting through the strands of Shadow he tried to summon about himself. Once struck by the blow, the Scorpion found himself unable to draw on the dark magics of the Shadow Brands.
Mirumoto Kenuchio leapt in front of the Daidoji, ready to block him from striking at his companions, and certain that any man trained by in the Kakita school could not be caught flat-footed by their ambush. The Crane eyed the others arrayed against his fellows and then gave Kenuchio a resigned nod and fell into a dueling stance, making a gesture of challenge.
The Mirumoto was torn. He knew the Daidoji was just stalling for time and taking one of the fastest bushi out of the melee, but in his heart he knew that his honor would not allow him to refuse the challenge of the duel. The world fell away as he embraced the Void.
The Kuni was unslowed though he had to turn to face the attackers. He readied the large two-bladed sword he carried and turned to face his attackers. Moto Koshi made the first strike at him, a telling wound, but there was no doubt the power of Earth was with the mighty shugenja.
There was a burst of noise, barely audible over the swirling winds, as the door to the throneroom burst open and the body of Otaku Kamoko was hurled out. But the body did not reach past the wall of winds Ayame had constructed. Slowly, painfully, the Unicorn Battlemaiden crawled back towards the throneroom as the battle raged. But the magistrates were engaged with their own battle and could not help her.
In a well-practiced dance, Izuko traded partners with the Matsumoto, closing on the Scorpion, while Eiko whirled away to slash with her naginata at the Kitsu. The Lion shugenja was swift, but not faster than Eiko’s naginata, and found his maho-fueled magic unreachable thanks to the power of Bishamon’s blade. He drew his wakizashi and lashed out.
The Agasha recovered quickly and directly attacked Asahina Ayame with a powerful spell, having determined the source of the whirlwind that surrounded him. But Ayame had prepared the spell she had used to good effect at the Asahina temples, casting quickly to strip the Agasha from the power to commune with the Kami. He was staggered, but continued to chase after her, finding in her the key to continuing to the throne room.
The Daidoji and the Mirumoto’s duel began in a flurry. He felt the wakizashi chime against his opponent’s sword. Kenuchio could feel the Crane slip around his guard, and then he had a flash of recognition. This was the maneuver Kakita Hideyoshi had used back at the Academy to defeat him. The memory of that fight came back in a flash, as did all the time he had spent afterwards to counter the move. He twisted his wrist up just so, and lunged, his katana plunging deep into the duelist’s chest.
Thank you, Hideyoshi. You were part of this story.
The Kuni swung a mighty blow at the Moto, and the Moto fell back, wounded. But still, he was able to get a second strike in of his own against his opponent before he was hit, and the Kuni was beginning to show a little weakness.
Now wounded, Koshi moved on to attack Ayame’s opponent, he Agasha, while Kenuchio closed on the Kuni. Izuko and Bayushio Joro sparred, but without his magic and with her skill, she was able to master him in such toe-to-tow fighting. Eiko quickly dispatched the Kitsu with only a small wound, and then closed with Kuni Genru, who was already engaged with Kenuchio. Genru was having a difficult time hitting the Mirumoto, but was unable to cast spells under their persistant attacks. Koshi caught his second wind and was able to prevent Agasha Sano from closing with Ayame, and Ayame turned herself to healing his wounds while they fought. The dance of the battle continued until only the Kuni was left standing, but even he was unable to hold against their combined might. The Dark Thunders were brought down. Izuko felt no compunction about finishing off the fallen Dark Thunders who still lived; it was more honor for them to die than be tried.
The wind died, and it was only then that they could hear silence from the chamber within.
Heavily wounded, limping, the magistrates stumbled to the door to the throneroom to find out if Shinsei and the Thunders lived.
The days that followed were a whirl. Toturi was proclaimed Emperor. The bodies of Togashi, Doji Hoturi, and Isawa Tadaka were given honorable funerals. The magistrates found themselves mourning Hoturi in particular, remembering the months they had traveled with him. They hoped that in his final moments he had found the peace he sought. At least Bayushi Kachiko seemed to have some sort of peace and the forgiveness she was seeking, though she did not acknowledge them. Bayushi Mai had slipped out of the throneroom before the armies had reached the throneroom, leaving all the glory and consequence, for good or ill, upon the Shosuro actress. Many years later the twinned sai buried in the eyes of Fu Leng were described as Kachiko’s jade hairpins, something which probably would have amused Mai greatly. Shinsei privately thanked them for all they had done and then left, a crow on his shoulder. They never saw him again.
They found themselves at a loss. The glory of the Thunders, the victory, all had completely passed them by, and they drifted on the tides of the events in Otosan Uchi, waiting to be recalled. Kakita Toshimoko personally honored them, but he too was mourning the death of Doji Hoturi and it was hard for him to think beyond that great loss.
In the end, each was released to their clans. Hiruma Izuko was granted permission by Hida Yakamo to continue to remain as a leader among the Emerald Magistrates, along with Matsumoto Eiko. Ikoma Nejii continued to lead in the Legion of Two Thousand serving Akodo Toturi. Moto Koshi eventually returned to the lands of his father to take his father’s place as leader of his father’s men. Mirumoto Kenuchio, in accordance with his father’s will, and after several interrupted attempts to change his will, married the “high-ranking Scorpion maiden”, Bayushi Mai, and served her loyally if unhappily, while she, in turn, respected his honor while enjoying her small victories. Asahina Ayame became an Asahina Temple maiden, and spent many years becoming the greatest expert in the Empire on the nature of the walls of Otosan Uchi.
There were other stories, sadder stories, but they are not told here.
Such stories are ones for a different age.
The battle of Asahina Fields had been on a dry, hot day of mid-Autumn, unnatural in all ways. But cold descended quickly in the days following the battle, and hung on to dog their weary steps as they travelled northwards towards Otosan Uchi.
Mirumoto Kenuchio tried his best to ignore the chill, choosing instead to pour over the end of the battle if only to better prepare him for the battles to come. Once he had struck the claw from Hida Yakamo, and Kuni Ren had replaced it, it seemed like the battle only intensified. But in truth, the defeat of the armies of the Shadowlands was already in hand.
About a third of the enemy forces quit the field when Hida Yakamo called for the retreat, those Scorpion and Crab whose souls were not yet lost to the madness of the Shadowlands taint. Still, the undead forces that had followed the False Hoturi pressed closely about them, and it was hard fighting as they withdrew back towards the temple. The enchanted arrows of the Asahina's ashigaru archers provided fair cover, the sky black and green with jade. There was a rumbling, and then the sound of explosions to either side of the valley as the oni moved towards the temple out of the range of the majority of the archers. However, they met the traps of the Daidoji. The sound of fireworks...and the explosions of something far, far stronger than fireworks...filled the air and Kenuchio could catch glimpses from the corner of his eye of oni being ripped apart in balls of fire. Other oni, pressing forward through the ashes of the previous oni, would fall into pits filled with jade-tipped spears, or, if they were clever enough to move around, found themselves engaged with hidden forces of Daidoji saboteurs or caught in unleashed oil and flame or the jade strikes of the few Jade Crab Kuni who remained other than Kuni Ren.
Even so, the numbers of the enemy had been overwhelming. Though they had made it back to Shinden Asahina, the traps had become overwhelmed and the arrows were running out when a mighty shout arose from behind the army of the enemy. It was then that Mirumoto Kenuchio could see the might of the Crab unleashed as Hida Yakamo returned to the battlefield with the forces of the Obsidian Crab behind him. The light of the Jade Hand could be seen even from the walls of Shinden Asahina and it seemed to be with a strange joy that the Obsidian Crab struck at the remaining undead and oni on the field. The backbone of the two tainted armies shattered before the might of Hida Yakamo's forces, and their remaining generals called for a retreat.
Shinden Asahina was free.
Mirumoto Kenuchio could remember slumping to the ground with exhaustion, remember having his wounds tended by an equally exhausted young Asahina, having a cup of water pressed into his hands.
Later, he remembered a blur of meetings, treaties and negotiations between this new Hida Yakamo, the bearer of the Jade Hand, and Doji Hoturi, Doji Kuwanan, and Daidoji Uji. And Sensei, always acting as the diplomat, soothing wounds of honor, pouring salve on rough words. Creating peace between them.
There was little for the magistrates to do, but all had suffered wounds and exhaustion in the battle so they were grateful for the respite.
It was maybe not quite enough time for them to fully recover from their wounds. Kenuchio's still ached. But winter was approaching quickly, and the evil may have retreated but still flooded the Empire from every side. The Emperor had cancelled Winter Court, but if ever there was a time the clans needed to gather and speak, this was it. So now they marched, through the growing autumn chill, towards Kuyden Doji, to free it from any lingering Shadowlands presence, if that were possible, and to treat and plan the next move to save the Empire. The days were long, the nights cold, and there was a weary despair settling in around the Dragon that needed to be fought.
Three hundred Crane soldiers had survived the battle in the Fields of the Morning Sun sufficiently to make the march north, and their troops were led by Doji Hoturi. Daidoji Uji acted as his second in command, while the still injured Doji Kuwanan remained behind in Shinden Asahina until he was able to make the trip north with any additional troops he was able to gather. Each day, the Crane commanders sent riders scouring the villages for any magistrates or bushi that had become cut off and isolated by the battles that had torn the Crane lands apart. Their numbers had grown to five hundred, and they hoped for more before they made Kuyden Doji. Other riders had ridden to the coast to recruit mercenaries and Mantis, opening the Crane treasuries for any aid they could make against the darkness.
Behind the small Crane army marched the larger forces of the Crab. The army was led by Hida Yakamo, but many of his senior advisors, Kenuchio knew, were now dead, executed for the roles they played in pushing the Crab towards a path of darkness and overcome, when taking the test of jade, with the taint. Now Jade Crab and Obsidian Crab eyed each other warily, carefully monitoring for all signs of corruption. Those fallen to the taint not shugenja and deemed still loyal to Hida were kept in a separate unit deep within the Crab ranks and closely monitored by the loyal Kuni. They marched in silence, and seemed eager to die. Kenuchio did not linger near.
The cold wind sent Crane and Crab banners cracking fiercely taut, but also leached out more of his warmth and strength. He found himself worrying about Asahina Ayame and how she might be holding up, and remembering the words of Kaktia Hideyoshi.
Kenuchio looked forward to the fires tonight.
It was an hour before sunset when they reached the outskirts of the open fields around Kuyden Doji. Once the beauty of these lands had been referred to as the Fantastic Gardens of the Doji, but they had been trampled by the forces of the Lion and Doji Hoturi, and now were little more than bowed trees and shattered teahouses buried under an early snow. 'The snow is a blessing of the water kami,' thought Asahina Ayame 'It hides the scars of the lands and lets us recall the memory of beauty.'
The shugenja hurried closer to the hooded ronin who led them, walking side by side with Doji Hoturi. In the march north from Shinden Asahina, the magistrates had seen less and less of him. He was always deep in consultation with Doji Hoturi or Hida Yakamo. Even though he was never without a kindly word, he offered few straight answers. By now, though, she was used to it. Besides, she was so tired, she didn't even have the energy to ask.
The Crane Champion, or acting Champion, raised his hand to call a halt and the signal ran down the line. By now, the Crane banners had managed to gather about seven hundred samurai to their cause, and the Crab, no longer separated by the barriers of Obsidian and Jade, had gathered about two thousand, though there were rumored to be at least two thousand more here with the forces that had remained with Hida Kisada after his failed attack on Otosan Uchi. As Hoturi sent runners ahead to determine a place to camp, Ayame moved aside to stand with her fellow magistrates while Hida Yakamo came forward from the Crab forces to join them.
Shyly, she slipped her icy hand into the hand of Mirumoto Kenuchio. It was all she dared do; but they'd grown closer over the last month, and with death so close it seemed like she should seize the moments she could. She felt his warm fingers close around hers. Hoturi, Sensei, and Yakamo stepped forward to the red torii arch to enter the gardens.
A figure that seemed far too large to have been hiding beside the torii arch, stepped out in front of them, startling Ayame. The man who met them was even larger and more muscular than Hida Yakamo. He wore armor of gold lacquered with green, and a mighty kabuto on his head. Covering his face completely, all save his eyes, was a featureless mempo. The helm cast even his eyes in darkness, but they shone with golden light from behind that mighty mask. They held an intensity that made Ayame tremble.
Mirumoto Kenuchio immediately released her hand and dropped to one knee, while the others around her, including the acting Champions and Sensei, bowed deeply. Ayame, of course, did likewise.
Sensei straightened from his bow, and Ayame was surprised to detect a note of familiarity and cheer in his voice.
"Togashi Yokune-dono. Please may I introduce Hida Yakamo-sama of the reunited Crab Clan, and Doji Hoturi-sama, of the Crane." He bowed again.
The mighty armored figure bowed in return to the three men who stood before him. When all had straightened, his rumbling, deep voice seemed to resonate in the very stones beneath their feet.
"Shinsei. Thunders. I greet you."
The figure, the one called Togashi Yokune, then looked past the ronin, the Crab, and the Crane. Ayame could feel his eyes sweep across her and her fellow magistrates, towards the southwestern horizon.
His voice rumbled again, and it seemed to rattle the shugenja's bones. "A flash of lightning. All is in readiness. It is time. Follow me."
Ayame straightened and shared a glance with her fellow magistrates, a thousand questions pouring into her head at once, and, perhaps, two answers.
They followed Togashi Yokuni in silence as he led the armies of the Crane and Crab towards an area of encampment. No one dared say a word.
The bowl of hot soup with seaweed and fish was a welcome change after the pickled vegetables and cold rice so common to their forced march, and Hiruma Izuko was going to make the most of it. She found a place to settle by the Crane Champion's fire; she was probably unworthy by rank, but their service to Sensei...Shinsei...and Doji Hoturi... had earned them the spot for one last day, at least.
She wondered if she'd be sent to join the rest of the Light Infantry in the Crab forces. Or perhaps Toshimoko was here? There were troops enough. The entire area was lit with campfires as far as the eye could see. Kenuchio had already left to visit his father.
Doji Hoturi was sitting quietly nearby and eating his own soup with his back turned away from her, ignoring the Magistrates and everyone else to be alone in his thoughts. He'd left the House of the Nightingale behind but the Willow World was still in him, even after the Battle of Asahina Fields, and the Magistrates respected him enough to allow him his peace and privacy. The politics for him would begin soon enough, with the formal meetings of the Clan Champions and Generals beginning tomorrow.
Izuko shook her head. "I don't even care about the politics and the discussions they're having tomorrow. As long as they point out a direction and hand me a bow, I'll be content at this rate." Beside her, Moto Koshi nodded in agreement
"You don't care about politics, Hiruma-san? How very Crab of you," A sweet voice said softly beside her, and she pulled away in surprise. She'd never even seen the speaker approach, though the voice was familiar.
Her eyes met another's...a pair of familiar brown eyes with an expression hidden behind a soft pink scarf. Izuko could bet, however, the expression was a smirk. "Mai!"
The young Yakuza they had known in Otosan Uchi nodded and straightened to give the Hiruma and Moto a bow. Other than the scarf, she was dressed in a lightweight black armor. A pair of sai were tucked into her obi. as was one other thing that had never been there before...a beautiful, black-lacquered wakizashi. "Izuko-san," Mai offered cordially. "I am so glad you are alive and I would love to catch up on all the latest gossip, but I'm afraid there is something I must do first. Please excuse me."
Izuko and Koshi followed the young woman with their eyes, and from the opposite side of the fire, Ayame also realized who had approached and watched her silently.
Mai did not flinch but held her head up proudly as she walked straight up to Doji Hoturi. When she drew near she coughed politely.
Doji Hoturi turned to face her. His eyes narrowed questioningly, and then he smiled. "Akiyoshi-san! I had hoped to see you again. I take it your return to join the army of ronin being built by Toturi-san was successful. Does that mean he is here now?"
Moto Koshi raised his eyebrow questioningly, but Izuko just shook her head silently.
Mai bowed to the Crane Lord. "I am surprised you remember so much, Hoturi-sama, considering. We traveled far together to escape to the House of the Nightingale, but you were not in a position to understand complex matters. But now you must know. And, I hope, come to accept my sincere apology."
Hoturi frowned, a puzzled crease forming between his black eyes as he studied Mai. His face grew hard as he studied the woman before him carefully. "Go on, Akiyoshi-san." He set down his empty bowl of soup and stood to face her.
Mai straightened to look Hoturi in the eye. "I have never lied to you, not once. However, not is all as you think. I am not the ronin Akiyoshi. I never gave you my name, though you remember correctly that Akiyoshi is what others called me. Such is the name of a skilled actress who wears my face while performing as a geisha for the Emperor. For myself, considering my clan is exiled, I certainly could be considered ronin. My brothers were killed during the Scorpion Clan Coup, while my father died shortly before. And when I left you, I did go to join Toturi's Army, as I said I would.." She gestured at the magistrates nearby, including Izuko. "I have also never lied to these magistrates, though they know me far differently. When they lived in Otosan Uchi, they knew me as a crime lord, the leader of the Red Cloud Yakuza, by the name of Mai. And that is my true name and one of my roles, but it also is not all. For my name is Bayushi Mai and I am the true Champion of the Scorpion Clan."
The magistrates and the Crane Champion all grew very still, watching the young woman. The silence stretched between them, Mai smiling pleasantly the whole time, until Doji Hoturi spoke again. His on hid all expression and his voice was flat when he spoke. "I thought the Champion of the Scorpion was Bayushi Shoju." he said softly. "The Scorpion were disbanded. Only the Empress remains. Bayushi Kachiko."
Mai bowed deeply, the expression in the dark eyes above her pink scarf calmly sympathetic. "Yes. Very few even within the clan know of the secret of human masks. Bayushi Kachiko has been my mask, as Bayushi Shoju served as my father's. It is...difficult...when your mask decides it is not content to be only a mask, but decides to act out of its own will."
Hoturi frowned, and gestured at Mai to continue. The magistrates looked at each other.
Mai just looked amused. "The Scorpion can be justifiably accused of many things, Hoturi-san. But foolishness should not be one of them. Each Scorpion wears an outer face," she gestures at her scarf, "and an inner face. The outer face can be disposed of. Changed. Removed at need. It is the acknowledgement that we wear many faces and play many parts. But certain people themselves act as the outer face of the whole clan. As such, they are public, held up to public scrutiny, and requiring...at times...public removal. But in a world of changing faces, public and private, the inner face must retain the blood so the blood cannot be lost. The inner face expresses the heart. The inner face must provide the conscience and speak unquestioned truth. The direct descendants of Bayushi, then, have long worn human masks, to be the public faces of the clan, while secretly directing the clan from within."
The young woman coolly scanned the group of magistrates and Hoturi. Her expression seemed calm, but Izuko could tell from the way she looked at her that anyone who chose to mention this in public would likely end up dead very promptly.
Mai's gaze switched back to Hoturi. "Shoju's treason was not first against the Emperor. It was first against my father. He wished to be real. He convinced himself he deserved to be so, that my father's authority was a lie, a plot against him. My father and brothers died when I was only a child, but I was hidden away, protected by the faction of the Scorpion that knew the truth. When he was killed, Kachiko, now inheriting her role as a mask for me, knew it likely that I existed, but not where. I have...made things clear to her since then."
She stepped back, and gave a full bow of apology to Doji Hoturi. "I am still responsible for the actions of my clan. Bayushi Kachiko used my clan against you to extract personal vengeance for the death of the son you share. The Scorpion's loyalty, however distasteful the other clans may find it, should always be to the Empire, not to our own ambition, or our own revenge. I am here to offer my apologies, Doji Hoturi. And this."
She held something out to the Crane Champion. Izuko, mind reeling at what Mai's words implied, dragged her eyes from the two faces to that which Mai held in her hands...a long braid of dark brown hair, tied at either end with a blue ribbon.
Doji Hoturi's face was as pale as the snow as he accepted the braid Mai pressed into his hands. He did not answer her, instead just staring down at it.
Mai straightened. "And that is enough apologizing." Her voice was tart, even cheery. "The past won't resolve the future. Bayushi Kachiko probably has words for you, but she knows where her loyalty lies now. The prophecy Shoju was pursuing was not incorrect after all. The last Hantei fell with the last Akodo. Now it is time to put to rest another beast that wears another's face. "
She started to turn and walk away, a strut in her step, but just as she was about to leave the circle of firelight, she turned back to look at the magistrates' perfectly frozen faces. "Ha! Such control. These samurai do not even blink. And they say we wear masks."
She disappeared into the shadows.
The Dragon encampment was the strangest of all in the blossoming tent city that had come to surround the wreck that was Kuyden Doji this Winter Court. For moving in and out amongst the tents from an encampment just beyond the garden borders, were great, shadowy, slithering shapes in the darkness. Things, creatures, with the body of a man or woman and the tail of a giant snake of inconceivable size. They made Mirumoto Kenuchio shudder to look upon them, but he kept his tongue still and any thoughts firmly locked in his head. These beings, strangely enough, were the allies of his clan, and he did not dare to question or challenge that alliance. The Empire had enough enemies as is.
But it was not to come gawk at the naga that Kenuchio had come to the Dragon encampment this evening.
Once they had arrived, he put out an inquiry to determine which families of the Dragon were encamped on the Doji plains. He learned his father was here. Tonight, he was going to go speak to him.
"Sssssssumimasssssssssssen, Dragon-sssan." The voice was a sibilant hiss.
Kenuchio jumped back.
Before him, stretching out like a log across the path before him, a long round body. And rising from the shadows of the tents next to him, the body of a man who seemed impossibly tall. His skin was glistening and naked, save for the do and sode he wore, and the glittering scales across his skin. The being bowed at the...waist? and moved his tail aside, clearing the path for Kenuchio.
Kenuchio was flustered, but returned the bow. "It is nothing, Naga-san."
The naga straightened, and slithered on its way with a nod of acknowledgement.
Kenuchio struggled to find his center again, and then hurried on to his father's tent.
Mirumoto Iyeasu was a grim man with a hawklike nose and long, gray hair tied up in a cue. He had served as a member of the Mirumoto House Guard for many years, and was now committed to defending the current brother and sister who led the family. To Kenuchio's eyes, he seemed just as remote as the snowy peaks of the mountains he had grown up in....in other words, no different at this moment than he had been the day Kenuchio had left to report to the capital on his Champion's orders so many years before.
The guards who had let him let the tent flap fall, leaving the pair their privacy.
Kenuchio bowed. "Otosama," he offered politely. "It is good to see you again."
From behind his writing desk, his father returned the bow, though the reserve that had always been there remained. "And you, also. I heard you fought honorably at the Battle of Beidan Pass. You have my congratulations."
Mirumoto Kenuchio bowed again. "Thank you, Father. How is Mother?"
"She is well. She was pleased to receive your letter regarding the request to marry." The older Dragon kept his voice perfectly neutral, and Kenuchio felt a pang of nervousness regarding the letter he had sent so long before. "She believes that it is about time you moved on to consider such things."
"Hai, Otosama. I had hoped there would be the opportunity to speak with you this winter about that. Asahina Ayame is beautiful, talented, and courageous. Her father served in the Ministry of Calligraphy and Seals before his death and she is of noble family. I would be honored to have her as a wife."
Iyeasu eyed his son up and down. "So you said." He frowned. "Despite the scandalous behavior of the Crane clan in the last year, we did not dismiss the request out of hand. Perhaps, under some circumstances, it could have been considered beneficial. But an Asahina is truly useless in a time of war, and the Dragon have no need of one. Her rank is high enough with her father's role in the ministry that the Doji might require you to marry into their clan, and then the skills you have spent a lifetime refining would indeed be useless. Unless you plan sitting around composing poetry all day?" Iyeasu's tone was withering. "You could, perhaps, curry favor for the Dragon in court. But what court? Things have changed, Kenuchio-san. This match does not serve the clan."
Kenuchio thought he could hear a buzzing in his ears as his head grew light with raw disbelief. All that had happened, all that Ayame and he had been through together, her courage and grace in the face of death, and his own father said she did not bring enough to the Dragon Clan? His voice was tight, and to his ears he felt a child again. "But mother said...you said she was pleased..."
The older Mirumoto held up his hand to cut the younger off. "Kenuchio-kun. Your mother was pleased that marriage entered your considerations. You have grown much in the last few years. We have received a very promising and honorable offer for your marriage. It will mean leaving the clan, but with it comes the promise of the renewal of old alliances, turning an enemy into a friend for our future battles. The one who made the offer is one the Dragon, and specifically the Mirumoto, owe a large debt to, one that we are required to repay."
Kenuchio closed his eyes against the roaring in his ears. "And who am I to wed?" He sounded distant to himself.
"A young woman, kuge of the Hidden Scorpion Clan. A number of years younger than you, but pretty. It was you she has chosen, and it was for you she sought out Lord Togashi. He has approved it. "
Stunned silence.
Iyeasu nodded once, sharply. "Good. I knew you would understand. When Bayushi Mai-sama returned Hitomi-sama to us, and replaced her missing hand with that magical artifact, there was no way the Mirumoto could allow our debt to go unpaid. We all must make small sacrifices in service of the clan. I am sure you will see that the arrangements are properly made before spring."
Kenichio felt sick, but there was nothing to say. "Hai, Otosan." He bowed before leaving as fast as he could. How would he ever tell Ayame?
Shinsei.
Moto Koshi rolled the word around in his head, trying to get used to the sound. Shinsei and the Seven Thunders.
The Day of Thunder.
The end of the world.
Shinsei had told the magistrates to wait for him, and so they had waited. The front hall of Kuyden Doji was mostly intact, save for where once the heavy door that had blocked entrance had been. The door and the area around it were torn loose, allowing snow to drift in. The door that led to the main chamber, on the other hand, was firmly shut against them. A few times, they’d been asked to bring food or paper or sake. But other than that, there was nothing to do except wait.
“Let me pass!” The man’s voice was thunderous. The magistrates all jumped to attention as an intimidating figure pushed his way past the door guards into the entrance hall, followed by eight armed bushi.
It took Koshi a moment to register the leader’s mons. He was very tall, dressed in a green kimono with a broad shouldered kataginu that made him look even larger than he was. He had a severe, weather-beaten face, green eyes, and long black hair heavily seeded with gray. After a moment, Koshi recognized the mons as marking him as a member of the minor Mantis clan. But he showed no modesty normally associated with members of the minor clans as he forced his way forward, and with the deference showed him by the others that followed him, he had to be a leader of significant rank. Likely the clan daimyo, the one known as Yoritomo.
The magistrates bowed, and Moto Koshi stepped forward. “My apologies, Yoritomo-sama. The clan champions have requested privacy within for their deliberations. But I would be happy to insure that a message is carried to them so they can meet with you as soon as they break.”
A low rumbling started to build in the Mantis Daimyo’s throat. He was not interested in waiting any longer and certainly was not interested in being thwarted by this Unicorn magistrate. He took a menacing step forward, and a thousand options flashed before Koshi’s eyes, each leading to an enormous and ugly political incident. Fortunately, he was saved when Shinsei opened the door within.
“Yoritomo-sama. You are welcome. Please forgive these magistrates; they are doing their duty well, but were not informed you would be attending.”
Yoritomo sighed, a sound more of frustration than weariness, and followed Shinsei inside. The door shut behind them.
The eight other Mantis stepped out to join the other guards on the main entrance, leaving the magistrates in the entrance hall again.
To wait.
And wait.
And wait.
Several hours later, Yoritomo left the meeting looking smugly satisfied. He did not even acknowledge the magistrates as he disappeared into the darkening gardens with his bushi.
Another two hours passed and it was late in the evening when those in the room finally emerged.
Doji Hoturi, looking tired and pale after the long day of deliberations.
Hida Yakamo, the Jade Hand glowing with an inner light in the shadows.
Bayushi Mai, a smirk of dark humor in her warm brown eyes.
Togashi Yokuni, golden eyes glittering behind the mempo he still wore.
Those they had sceen very recently. But there were others they knew, but it had been long since they had seen them.
Otaku Kamoko, looking glorious and defiant in her white and purple armor, grown only more beautiful since they’d seen her in her camp in the Moto lands.
Toturi the Black, his kimono worn and fraying, gray streaking his temples, aged a lifetime since the Scorpion Clan Coup when they had presented him the Sword of the Hantei.
Mirumoto Hitomi, her missing hand now replaced, they could see, with a hand formed of crystalline darkness, a derisive sneer the magistrates' only reward for their protection during the Battle of Beidan Pass.
Kakita Toshimoko, clad in the armor of the Emerald Champion, who did not hesitate to give them a wink and a smile as he sauntered past.
And two others they had not met.
Isawa Tadaka, emerged, his face masked by his broad-rimmed hat and the black cloths he’d bound around his face and hands. Moto Koshi could smell the stench of taint upon him, could see his glowing green eyes and the black fire about him. It would be enough to challenge, but he was not alone. Shiba Ujimitsu, the Phoenix Clan champion, looking calm and assured, walked by his side. Shinsei had made clear that the Phoenix were to be accepted, even trusted, despite what had happened to Isawa Natsune. The magistrates in this had to follow their orders and hope the monk knew what he was doing.
The magistrates waited until the various dignitaries dispersed. Finally Shinsei emerged alone.
The Hooded Ronin spoke with one of the door guards, and beckoned the magistrates into the room the Champions and Thunders had so recently left. The room was littered with sake bottles and maps and books of prophesy and the Tao, but Shinsei ignored all to lead them towards the fire. Rice and vegetables were brought then the servants were dismissed. The man they had known and traveled with for so long accepted his rice, then looked at them with a smile.
“You have been very patient, but I think you have more than earned answers. Please go ahead and ask all your questions. I will have no more secrets here.
Izuko was direct. “You are Shinsei, correct? The Shinsei?”
The man they had followed nodded. “His descendant, indeed. Come into the world again when the time was right for me to do so.”
Kenuchio cut in. “Then they,” he gestured at those who had just left. “Are the Seven Thunders, and the Day of Thunder is coming. Fu Leng is loose in the world.”
Shinsei nodded again. “The Seven and a few others. Fu Leng is loose in the world. But in this room were those who have the wherewithal to defeat him. And he will be defeated.”
Ayame was more hesitant. “Fu Leng has replaced the Emperor, hasn’t he? That is why he was doing the things he has done.”
The Hooded Ronin looked down into the flames. “Sadly, yes. It was partially, perhaps, due to the deeds of Bayushi Kachiko. It was partially the weight of prophecy. Primarily though, it was the endless nature of the challenge between Tengoku and Jigoku that led the Empire to this moment. All that was Hantei is gone from the Emperor. Only Fu Leng remains.”
Ayame nodded, withdrawing into herself.
But Koshi had little patience now, at the end, for the prophecies of the age. He wanted direct answers. “We are in this room. You sought us out too. What role do we play in all of this?”
Shinsei smiled again, pleased with the question. “Yes. You have touched so many of these events. Preceded them. Followed them. That little flash on the horizon. The pebble by which the avalanche is begun. You are called, yes. Just as much as they. But you are not the same.”
The magistrates drew forward to listen. Shinsei continued.
“There never were just the Thunders. The Thunders are heroes of the age. They will be the ones remembered, the foundation upon which the next age rests. But what if the next age is a dark one? It still would rest on the legend and will of the Thunders. The Dark Thunders. Traitors. Murderers. Foes wholly sworn to evil. Foes who, just as those before us in this room, would do anything to ensure their victory.”
The teacher smiled. “But evil does not understand the greatest strengths of bushido. Evil grounds itself in selfishness. In a thousand selfish decisions that steer towards their end. But Good grounds itself in selflessness, and therefore has the power of creation, making a whole that is greater than the sum of all of its parts. Just that tiny bit more, that small contribution offered without personal gain, made for the good of all…that is the advantage Good has over Evil. While Jigoku can raise fanatics to act as dark mirrors to the Seven Thunders, it is blind to the thousand of little decisions and sacrifices that, bound together, will stop those Dark Thunders.”
He turned to each one of the magistrates in turn. “A group of samurai, seemingly selected at random from the wideness of Ningen-do. United only by the sacrifice within their hearts. You, my friends, are the flash of lightening that precedes the Thunder. You will be the hand of Tengoku to strike at the Dark Thunders before they can prevent the chosen seven from reaching Fu Leng, the avatar of Jigoku. You will light the way. The Thunders arise as the avatars of Tengoku. You stand for the mortal man.”
The Day of Thunder
The battle raged around them, but the magistrates followed the orders Shinsei had given and took no part, doing what they could to stay away from the thrust and parry of the forces on the field save when such forces came to directly intercept them. It rarely did. They carried no banner, their armor, as it had been since Western Hub Village, was indistinguishable from any other minor bushi on the field. A squad of goblins, quickly cut down, and a few air spells to ward off any intercepting arrows as they moved towards the walls of Otosan Uchi. The armies of the Empire pressed forward.
The gates, though. Fortified by timber as thick across as a man, hauled into place with the power of ogres, there was no way that even the siege engines of the Kaiu or the spells of the shugenja would not prevail against its might. Not that any could close on those gates anyway. For in command of the outer wall of Otosan Uchi was an insane man who rained fire and death upon all those who drew near. The Master of Fire, Isawa Tsuke.
Warriors burned, engineers burned. And Tsuke stood on the battlements laughing.
The closer the magistrates drew to the walls, the harder it was to avoid the flames and the more intense the fighting became. There had reached a stalemate as the armies were trapped before the walls and the flames of Isawa Tsuke.
The armies of the Phoenix, led by Isawa Tadaka and Shiba Ujimitsu, were the forces able to close the furthest on Tsuke’s fiery hellscape, strengthened by their gifts. Great boulders tore through the sky towards the Master of Fire, but he knocked them away with his flames easily. The magistrates had to shelter their eyes from the heat and flames, not daring to approach further. They could barely see the flash of red and gold that was Shiba Ujimitsu…somehow…leap from the ground to the top of the battlements at the maddened shugenja’s side, and plunge a katana into Tsuke’s fiery robes.
Isawa Tsuke exploded. The nearest section of outer wall of Otosan Uchi was devastated in the eruption of power and flame, coming crumbling to the ground where every previous siege engine and ram had failed. The magistrates could not see the body of Ujimitsu as he came tumbling to the ground, blinded as they were from the glare. The armies surged forward to capture the breach and enter the outer city. In a momentary break from the fighting, the magistrates heard a bright clarion call of a woman’s voice cry out to the Phoenix army “Shiba Arises!” The Phoenix troops roared their Utz and charged forward.
The magistrates slipped in behind the front of the charge, finding themselves in the familiar haunts of the Toyotomi district of Otosan Uchi. There was fighting all around them, but the mission they have been given by Shinsei was clear. And here, in this district, they knew every alley and basement.
The streets, however familiar they might have been once, were in another sense completely alien to them now. An oozing green mist seeped from the cracks between the buildings. The daily bustle of carts and shops and the turnings of small lives had come to a complete stop. The air was scented with the breath of death. The familiar corner of the papershop, the fishmonger, all empty now. The samurai ducked in and around the knots of fighting, traversing the back streets, making their way deeper and deeper into the city. Further in and across, through parts of other districts now, less certain, towards their destination. The South Wall of Otosan Uchi. The place where their story began.
Their orders from Shinsei were clear. They alone, of all the people in the empire, had traversed successfully the South Wall. The Thunders, while mighty, suffered terrible flaws. Their flaws gave them strength. But the South Wall, the only wall that allowed the outflow of water through it to go down to the sea, and therefore, the only wall with passages below it to allow effluent to escape, had been built by the Crane. Its enchantments created the most severe challenges to both will and honor. The magistrates had survived the passage out. The more serious test was returning.
The fighting was still near the outer wall as they approached the south wall of the inner city. They found the hidden doorway that led down into the stormwater drainage, granting passage for the water back to the ocean. Fortunately, the area was mostly empty; the true strength of the tainted followers of the Emperor, of Fu Leng, were fighting at the gate. They'd only faced a few goblin patrols so far. Moto Koshi pulled up the hidden trap door and, one at a time, they lowered themselves down.
A thin channel of water trickled past their feet. Although they expected this dark place to be filled with the greenish fog that swathed the city, this close to the sacred wall, all taint of evil recoiled. Still, as they approached the underpinnings of the wall itself, glowing white mist arose around and between them, muffling sound, dividing sight, separating them. The challenges of the south wall were to be faced alone.
Mirumoto Kenuchio lost track of the others, gone in the white mists. But, emerging from the uncertainty before him a shadowed figure stepped. As it drew close to him, he could see its face, the mirror of his own. The figure drew katana and wakizashi, again, the mirror to his own. He did likewise.
The figure only voiced these words, “Turn back, or die.”
Kenuchio shook his head. “I cannot.”
The figure paused. “I see your failures. I know all that you have done. You have not even told her, have you? Your dishonor will destroy you.” It plunged forward to attack.
The moments seemed to last forever, and it was possible than none of them could fully describe the battles each of them made against their own worst selves in the darkness under the South Wall. However, finally, each of them pushed through the mist to reach the stormdrains on the other side. They rested, not speaking, though Kenuchio felt Ayame’s eyes watching him and could see the wounded expression that haunted them. Once the magistrates had recovered enough, they continued until they could reach the point they originally entered the drains as they were escaping with the sword of the Hantei.
The inner city was not deserted, but most of the forces of Fu Leng had been emptied onto the plains or into the city. The green mist returned and, while vile, it helped to shelter them from all eyes. When a pack of curious bakemono stumbled upon them, they were dispatched quickly enough. Ayame raised her hands in healing again.
“I need to get something,” Matsumoto Eiko said after the latest fight. “We will not survive like this.” She led them away from the gates and up to the Shrine of the Seven Fortunes, one of the holiest places in Rokugan.
Though the city was fast becoming defiled, the Shrine of the Seven Fortunes had not faltered, at least not yet. Its purity shone and the green mists recoiled from it. Eiko hurried the others along and headed straight for the doors.
The temple itself was empty of the tainted, samurai, or monks, and Eiko opened the doors without trouble. Eerie quiet pervaded the sacred space. Each of the seven great shrines opened onto the central courtyard, and, lying in the center of the courtyard, a large, cracked bell.
Eiko led them past the bell directly to the Shrine to the fortune Bishamon, where he stood in all his stately glory, an ancient naginata in one hand, and a castle in the other. She knelt before the statue, closed her eyes, and pressed her face to the ground. Unwilling to not share her full reverence for the Fortune, the other samurai did the same.
“Great Bishamon, Fortune of Strength,” Eiko intoned, “The time has come for the Empire to stand and fight the greatest evil it has known in a thousand years. My name is Matsumoto Eiko, servant of the Celestial Dragons, born of the line of Matsumoto, and guardian of the city. Lord Bishamon, please grant to me my family’s birthright, so that the Thunders may fulfill their destiny and we may do what we must.”
With that prayer, she stood, stepped forward, and firmly lay her hand on the shaft of Bishamon’s great naginata, and suddenly, though no one exactly saw when it had been released, the naginata was free, and Eiko was holding it in her hands. She looked at it with a small, satisfied smile, and bowed again. “I thank you, Lord Bishamon, and promise to return this to you when today’s fighting is done.”
Then she turned to the others. “This is not for fighting,” she explained. “It is to give the chance for strength to be victorious. So my family has guarded and served for many centuries, since long before the days of Ichuban.”
The others nodded, and Koshi grunted. “Let’s go. We need to be by the gate before the drums begin.”
They made their way to a small Seppun guardhouse near the wall, fortunately near the gates, that had been left deserted. As the day’s fighting continued, they could do nothing,¬ save for Hiruma Izuko who slipped out of the guardhouse to determine exactly what forces held the gate itself. After about two hours, the sound of taiko drums began, its sacred rhythm driving lesser tainted creatures away, warning all that the battle had grown near.
It was the cue that they should strike.
The magistrate’s strike on the two ogres that guarded the gate mechanism was swift and silent, for Asahina Ayame had cast a spell that would prevent all sound from traveling further from the gates. Izuko and Koshi’s initial arrows wounded the ogres before they could see what was facing them, and Eiko and Kenuchio closed swiftly to defeat them. As soon as the ogres were felled, they ran to the gate mechanism and began to turn the heavy wheel that opened the gates just enough to allow Shinsei and the seven Thunders to pass.
Bayushi winked at Mirumoto Kenuchio as she entered. Asahina Ayame turned away, hiding her expression. Doji Hoturi gave the magistrates a weary nod. Shinsei favored them with a smile, a crow sitting on his shoulder. “Well done,” he offered. “Only one more task for you to fulfill.” Once the Thunders were rested, the magistrates followed the Thunders up the road to the Imperial Palace.
Nothing challenged them on the road to the palace. What could dare? They reached the barred great doors to the Imperial Palace.
As if they sensed the approach of the Thunders, the great doors slowly swung open. Standing at the doors, still holding the mechanism that pulled them open, was the most staggeringly beautiful woman the magistrates had ever seen. Hair the color of a raven’s wing cascaded like silk across her perfect shoulders. Her kimono of scarlet and gold matched the red of her lacy mask and the ruby hue of her enticing lips. Her eyes were pools of midnight and promises, but were darkened with the colors of grief and long suffering. Every samurai in the Empire knew her name: Bayushi Kachiko. The Empress.
The Empress lifted her head, and her eyes met the black eyes of Doji Hoturi. The magistrates could not see the private expressions shared between the two at that moment, but they did see the beautiful woman kneel before the Crane Champion.
“Forgive me,” she said quietly.
Doji Hoturi closed his eyes as he chose to allow her words to reach him, though the magistrates knew, better than any other here, perhaps, the depth of pain that this woman had caused him. He reached out to her and offered his hand. “Arise, My Lady. We must move forward.”
Bayushi Kachiko took the offered hand and stood, but she frowned at Hoturi’s response. She picked up her lantern, turned back to the group of Thunders, and said, “Follow me.”
The palace was a maze of shadowed halls but all was echoing silence. Kachiko led the way swiftly through the darkness until she emerged under the pillared veranda that surrounded an interior courtyard garden. A familiar figure emerged out of the shadows.
“He is in the Throne Room. Togashi challenges him now.” Bayushi Mai said simply. “No others have joined yet, but a summons has gone out. There are sounds in the palace. It will be a matter of moments before he is joined.” She pointed to the large doors on the other side of the garden. “The throneroom is just beyond. “
Mai then turned to Kachiko. “You should go and hide yourself. You are not trained in combat. You can do nothing here.”
Kachiko’s eyes blazed, but she bowed to the fifteen-year-old girl.
Shinsei turned to the magistrates who had come with him. His eyes were kind and sad, knowing well that his next words may consign them to their deaths. “Matsumoto Eiko. Moto Koshi. Hiruma Izuko. Mirumoto Kenuchio. Asahina Ayame. You are to wait here. The Dark Thunders are moments behind us. It is your task to delay them. Defeat them if you are able. Let no enemy pass that door.” He gave them a bow. “This is your time.”
They returned the bow to Shinsei and the Thunders, but nothing else needed to be said. It needed to be done, though an icy lance of fear struck Hiruma Izuko’s heart. She, at least, had not forgotten that at least half the enemies were shugenja. The magistrates took up a position in the inner courtyard, ready to defend the doors to the throneroom with their lives.
From within the Throneroom, they could hear the sounds of words spoken in a strange, hissing language, the crashing and swirling and rumbling of some great combat. Hida Yakamo pulled open the door to enter, and the other Thunders followed in after him. Shinsei entered last, leaving the magistrates alone in the courtyard with Bayushi Kachiko.
The woman waited in the courtyard with them for a moment or two, just long enough for the Thunders to begin their engagement with their enemy. She turned to the magistrates directly and looked at them with eyes full of burning contempt…and guilt. “You may stay if you wish,” she answered, chin lifted with pride. “I have debts I will repay. And I will earn Hoturi’s forgiveness before I will allow him to die.”
Moto Koshi stepped aside to allow the Empress to pass through the doors. They fell shut behind her.
The magistrates shared a look between each other as they were left alone in the courtyard.
“The Dark Thunders,” said Asahina Ayame. “If they see us, they could simply go another way in. Or through a wall. We saw the Kitsu turn himself into bees. They could even summon an oni.”
Matsumoto Eiko nodded. “The naginata and the power of Bishamon will act against them, and maho will not work near it. But we must be faster than they.
Mirumoto Kenuchio gestured to the garden. “Perhaps they won’t expect to be met. They have chosen to wait until the battle is well joined, so they are confident in their lord. They have no reason to believe we would be here.”
The samurai scattered themselves across the garden, waiting in ambush. The garden seemed empty except for the four standing lanterns that marked the path to the Throne Room.
They did not need to wait long.
A high-pitched nasal laughter preceded them. “When we’re done, I want the Unicorn. So pretty…so very pretty.” It came from a spry, unpleasant-looking man they recognized: the Kitsu shugenja they had fought for the soul of Matsu’s first husband. Kitsu Bashu.
A deep pitched grunt. “No so pretty when I’m finished with her.” The man who went with those words was a hulking tower of a man, with his face painted in white and black. He carried over his shoulder a massive weapon, like an iron staff with blades on either end. They didn’t recognize him, but Koshi remembered his father’s description: Kuni Genru.
A woman laughed nervously. “I still think we must be careful. Isawa Tadaka is a powerful shugenja.” She wore the colors of an Iuchi shugenja, her long hair threaded through with gray. Around her neck, she carried twin strings of round yellow gourds, like giant prayer beads crossing her chest. “He will never expect my polvara, but we should be quiet and not attract the attention of the Thunders until we strike.” Iuchi Kyoru.
A man clad in black, a mask over his face, chortled quietly. “Besides,” he said barely above a whisper. “The Crane is much prettier.” With the mask, they could only guess that his identity was Bayushi Joro.
“Enough! I may need to associate with you for the good of our lord, but I am not required to listen to your blasphemous prattle.” THAT one many in the Empire, including the magistrates,would have recognized, at least by his mons. Asako Monoro, Head Inquisitor of the Phoenix. Ayame felt a familiar chill.
The next who entered the small inner garden they also recognized, as the Agasha courtier who had led Hitomi so far astray in her attacks on Unicorn Lands. “No need to fight...we simply are here to serve the Dark Lord. Though...I sense a presence in this courtyard....” Agasha Sano.
The last of the seven did not speak, but immediately fell into stance, resting his hand palm-up on the grip of his katana. His long white hair hung around him. Daidoji Hitsuo.
Asahina Ayame didn’t wait; she knew her role. From her position hiding in the shadows on the far edge of the garden, she immediately cast the spell that she had prepared. An explosion of wind surrounded the entire garden in a circular wall of wind, trapping the magistrates and the Dark Thunders in the confines of the garden. It would not last against a concerted effort to dispel it, but for the moment, it kept the Dark Thunders trapped within. Her hope was to at least buy time for the Thunders by prevent the Dark Thunders from getting past or leaving.
Some kind fortune was with them, for the winds whipped so fiercely that they knocked over one of the standing lanterns that had been lighting the courtyard, turning the whirlwind, momentarily, into a circle of fire. The fire licked out at the Dark Thunders that had been startled in the courtyard, and lashed out at them. A tongue of flame touched Iuchi Kyoru. She screamed and pulled away, but it was too late. The polvara that tainted her clothes and the gourds she carried hungrily seized the flame and exploded, sending a great fireball throughout the courtyard. The Kitsu and the Agasha stumbled in the blast.
The other Magistrates took no time at all in attacking, leaping out from hiding to strike out at their attackers. Asako Monoro immediately tried to pull away from the attackers to give himself the space to cast a spell, but Hiruma Izuko darted from the shadows and struck, burying her blade in his chest. He fell to his knees, bleeding heavily.
Matsumoto Eiko dove at Bayushi Joro, the purity of Bishamon’s naginata cutting through the strands of Shadow he tried to summon about himself. Once struck by the blow, the Scorpion found himself unable to draw on the dark magics of the Shadow Brands.
Mirumoto Kenuchio leapt in front of the Daidoji, ready to block him from striking at his companions, and certain that any man trained by in the Kakita school could not be caught flat-footed by their ambush. The Crane eyed the others arrayed against his fellows and then gave Kenuchio a resigned nod and fell into a dueling stance, making a gesture of challenge.
The Mirumoto was torn. He knew the Daidoji was just stalling for time and taking one of the fastest bushi out of the melee, but in his heart he knew that his honor would not allow him to refuse the challenge of the duel. The world fell away as he embraced the Void.
The Kuni was unslowed though he had to turn to face the attackers. He readied the large two-bladed sword he carried and turned to face his attackers. Moto Koshi made the first strike at him, a telling wound, but there was no doubt the power of Earth was with the mighty shugenja.
There was a burst of noise, barely audible over the swirling winds, as the door to the throneroom burst open and the body of Otaku Kamoko was hurled out. But the body did not reach past the wall of winds Ayame had constructed. Slowly, painfully, the Unicorn Battlemaiden crawled back towards the throneroom as the battle raged. But the magistrates were engaged with their own battle and could not help her.
In a well-practiced dance, Izuko traded partners with the Matsumoto, closing on the Scorpion, while Eiko whirled away to slash with her naginata at the Kitsu. The Lion shugenja was swift, but not faster than Eiko’s naginata, and found his maho-fueled magic unreachable thanks to the power of Bishamon’s blade. He drew his wakizashi and lashed out.
The Agasha recovered quickly and directly attacked Asahina Ayame with a powerful spell, having determined the source of the whirlwind that surrounded him. But Ayame had prepared the spell she had used to good effect at the Asahina temples, casting quickly to strip the Agasha from the power to commune with the Kami. He was staggered, but continued to chase after her, finding in her the key to continuing to the throne room.
The Daidoji and the Mirumoto’s duel began in a flurry. He felt the wakizashi chime against his opponent’s sword. Kenuchio could feel the Crane slip around his guard, and then he had a flash of recognition. This was the maneuver Kakita Hideyoshi had used back at the Academy to defeat him. The memory of that fight came back in a flash, as did all the time he had spent afterwards to counter the move. He twisted his wrist up just so, and lunged, his katana plunging deep into the duelist’s chest.
Thank you, Hideyoshi. You were part of this story.
The Kuni swung a mighty blow at the Moto, and the Moto fell back, wounded. But still, he was able to get a second strike in of his own against his opponent before he was hit, and the Kuni was beginning to show a little weakness.
Now wounded, Koshi moved on to attack Ayame’s opponent, he Agasha, while Kenuchio closed on the Kuni. Izuko and Bayushio Joro sparred, but without his magic and with her skill, she was able to master him in such toe-to-tow fighting. Eiko quickly dispatched the Kitsu with only a small wound, and then closed with Kuni Genru, who was already engaged with Kenuchio. Genru was having a difficult time hitting the Mirumoto, but was unable to cast spells under their persistant attacks. Koshi caught his second wind and was able to prevent Agasha Sano from closing with Ayame, and Ayame turned herself to healing his wounds while they fought. The dance of the battle continued until only the Kuni was left standing, but even he was unable to hold against their combined might. The Dark Thunders were brought down. Izuko felt no compunction about finishing off the fallen Dark Thunders who still lived; it was more honor for them to die than be tried.
The wind died, and it was only then that they could hear silence from the chamber within.
Heavily wounded, limping, the magistrates stumbled to the door to the throneroom to find out if Shinsei and the Thunders lived.
The days that followed were a whirl. Toturi was proclaimed Emperor. The bodies of Togashi, Doji Hoturi, and Isawa Tadaka were given honorable funerals. The magistrates found themselves mourning Hoturi in particular, remembering the months they had traveled with him. They hoped that in his final moments he had found the peace he sought. At least Bayushi Kachiko seemed to have some sort of peace and the forgiveness she was seeking, though she did not acknowledge them. Bayushi Mai had slipped out of the throneroom before the armies had reached the throneroom, leaving all the glory and consequence, for good or ill, upon the Shosuro actress. Many years later the twinned sai buried in the eyes of Fu Leng were described as Kachiko’s jade hairpins, something which probably would have amused Mai greatly. Shinsei privately thanked them for all they had done and then left, a crow on his shoulder. They never saw him again.
They found themselves at a loss. The glory of the Thunders, the victory, all had completely passed them by, and they drifted on the tides of the events in Otosan Uchi, waiting to be recalled. Kakita Toshimoko personally honored them, but he too was mourning the death of Doji Hoturi and it was hard for him to think beyond that great loss.
In the end, each was released to their clans. Hiruma Izuko was granted permission by Hida Yakamo to continue to remain as a leader among the Emerald Magistrates, along with Matsumoto Eiko. Ikoma Nejii continued to lead in the Legion of Two Thousand serving Akodo Toturi. Moto Koshi eventually returned to the lands of his father to take his father’s place as leader of his father’s men. Mirumoto Kenuchio, in accordance with his father’s will, and after several interrupted attempts to change his will, married the “high-ranking Scorpion maiden”, Bayushi Mai, and served her loyally if unhappily, while she, in turn, respected his honor while enjoying her small victories. Asahina Ayame became an Asahina Temple maiden, and spent many years becoming the greatest expert in the Empire on the nature of the walls of Otosan Uchi.
There were other stories, sadder stories, but they are not told here.
Such stories are ones for a different age.