A Ride into Darkness
“Why have I come to him?” The question arose unbidden in her mind again, tormenting her as it had for the past week. She had no answer.
The acrid black smell from the sulfurous tar pits of the Shadowlands assailed her nostrils, making her retch. Thunder rose from the filthy smoke-filled valley before her. The land was aglow with a patchwork of blazing fires, her goal clearly deliniated by that path where they did not burn. Alone she spurred her horse towards the black-scaled citadel that rose into the midnight sky, its bulk shrouded by the oily haze. Her horse shied, refusing at first to descend into the shadowy vale. She gripped the beast’s fur and wrapped it tightly in her own, striving to conquer both as she had for almost three days.
She had not believed such a land as this could exist. It was such a change…
Nine newborn children played at Amaterasu’s feet as she recovered the radiance she had lost during her labor. The children moved about her, exploring their world and playing in various games. Shinjo rested apart from the others at a place she could look down upon the vast world below. Her father, Onnotangu, obstructed some of the earth from his position in the sky below her. However, Shinjo could still see cities below, vacant and empty, their serpentine occupants long ago resuming their deep slumber. Elsewhere upon the earth other creatures flourished, a wondrous variety whose antics amused her endlessly. The creatures lived in harmony with the land – a land as amazingly diverse as those creatures that dwelt upon it.
Shinjo watched each creature, one by one, on its life journey, sharing in the experiences of each animal. As she watched, she felt a hand grasp hers, a gentle, kind, warm hand attached to a gentler, warmer smile. “So many mysteries to behold, little sister,” mused the sweet voice. “so much potential to explore. Would you enjoy seeing others? Once I am grown I shall create more creatures whose lives shall astound you. I have great plans.”
Shinjo laughed. She loved her brother Fu Leng.
Shinjo’s horse rolled its eyes in terror, but held its path true and steady. She moved ever onward and downward into the blackened valley while eyes of crimson looked upon her perfect form. None of the demons had dared approach her, thwarted by her divine essence and the rumors of the speed of her sword. Instead, they kept to the shadows between the flames and hissed vile threats at her.
She ignored them, of course. She had not come to talk to them, not even to slay them. They were nothing to her, but their presence tormented her nonetheless, reminding her of the question that hung about her still. As she passed through the gaping maw of her brother’s fortress, the question paced in Shinjo’s mind, demandingly… “Why have I come to him?” She hoped she would find an answer.
Anger filled Hantei’s face before she could even finish her request. She had foreseen her brother’s reaction before she had come to stand before the Emerald Throne. Yet, she had come to him first. Perhaps it was duty or loyalty. Perhaps she had hoped he would find merit in her mission and her reasons. Perhaps she had simply come to say good-bye. It did not matter; she had done what she had done. She had fulfilled her dharma in coming before the Emperor.
Shinjo pressed on, heedless of Hantei’s mounting anger. There was a strained edge to her voice as she spoke, “Our people die all around us and we do not even know why Fu Leng attacks?” I must do something!” Their missing brother had fallen apart from the rest of them when the children had come to earth. He had remained missing for long years until recently he had reappeared leading an army of gibbering fiends and corrupted beings from the Shadowlands. The dark army no rampaged across Rokugan destroying Hantei’s fledgling empire, and no means had yet been found to stop them.
“He is jealous of what is mine,” Hantei cried in frustration, pounding the arm of the Emerald Throne in emphasis. “He dragged me from our mother’s side because he could not stand any of us possessing what he cannot. What more is there to understand, sister?”
“Everything, my Lord. Everything,” Shinjo confessed.
The great hall filled the front section of the monstrous keep inside the gate, pillared and ascending fully a third the height of the citadel. A sickly light from an unknown source immersed the furnishings with a pale glow that accented the crimson stains upon the banquet table. Fu Leng’s minions fell back before her, leaving their dinner, still screaming, chained upon the table. Repulsed, Shinjo struck an unspeakable creature’s head from its shoulders before striding to the broad staircase at the far end of the hall. A man dressed in oily black armor awaited her at the foot of the stairs. Bowing low, he informed Shinjo that his master awaited her above. Anxious to be away from the pall of death that tainted the hall, she quickly moved up to the keep’s battlements.
At the top she looked around, but all was black. The smoke from the fires of Fu Leng’s army filled the air and smothered the stars above. Finally she saw a shadow move, black even among the shadows, pacing along the parapet.
“I am sorry for the clamor below, sister,” said Fu Leng, “but my servants can’t seem to learn the manners that yours adopted so quickly.” Shinjo noticed immediately that his voice had not changed from the time long ago when they had witnessed the mysteries of the lands below – it was still warm and compelling. But there had been changes. Even though Fu Leng’s long robes covered his body completely, she could see that the robes hung upon him loosely and that his stance was awkward as he paced; bent, like a lame horse.
Shinjo watched and waited; there was nothing she could say. Fu Leng stopped pacing, and looked out over his army.
Thunder echoed across the skies and a light rain began falling. “Why do you suppose mother cries this time, little sister?” Fu Leng asked, not turning to face her. A pause. “She cried for us once…remember?”
They ran in terror, all of them, as their father hunted them down. They knew there was no escape and still they ran. Bayushi in his conceit challenged Lord Moon, and he was snatched up for his troubles and swallowed. Clothed in fury, Akodo charged, only to be devoured himself. Shinjo ran like the wind while Fu Leng hid, watching in horror and revulsion as their mother offered sake to their father to help him digest their temperamental children. The sung goddess followed her manic husband and gave him more sake as Hida, Doji, and Shiba were likewise found and consumed.
Togasi stopped Shinjo in her flight and led her to Fu Leng’s clever refuge. “Come out, brother,” Togashi called calmly, “we must each play our part if we are not to perish. We cannot deny our place in the celestial order.”
“Fool! You have doomed me!” roared Fu Leng, and he sprang from hiding upon his brother, Togashi. And while Shinjo tried to stop their combat, their father found them.
“I remember,” said Shinjo as the rain continued to fall. But, she thought, those tears had been pure, not black like this.
“Why have you come to me?” he said. Her mind seethed with questions of her own. Where have you been? What happened to you? But he had asked her the same question that had been tormenting her, and this time the question carried her brother’s voice. It was a new perspective. A glimmer of an answer came to her mind, but only the obvious left her lips. “To find why you fight us.”
Fu Leng turned to her. She could now see his eyes glowing green in the dark, and she knew her answer had not been enough. Not for him, nor for herself.
“Why have you come to me?” Her emotions flared. Images flashed – his ready smile and former beauty flew across her vision. Memories of the wonders of this earth they had beheld together and the company they had kept drew forth her response, another facet of the answer she sought: “Because you are my brother.”
He lurched towards her, his very movements painful beneath the robes. He pointed one arm at her.
“Why have you come to me?” And she gasped. Why had she come? Why had not Hantei, Togashi, or Doji come to their brother? Why did they continue to fight when so many were dying? But all her siblings still lived. It was only humanity that suffered. There was no fear of death amongst her brothers and sisters, for no creature was their match. If she did not fear death, what did she fear? Defeat? No…what could defeat bring if it could not bring death? The echoes of the screams from the table in the keep far below reminded her of her answer. “To save the people.”
And a hand grasped her face, a heinous, crewl, clawed hand with talons that grasped her in a cold iron vise. “So many mysteries are mine now, little sister,” pronounced the sweet voice in a soft tone, “pwers I discovered in the depths of the earth.” His voice began to grow cold with anger and hate. “You do not know what I have seen. I was trapped in the earth with the entrails of our father covering me…his blood seeping around me, into me…his hand still clutching mine…I learned so much as my beloved family left me to rot!” The sudden shift in her brother’s temper took her by surprise. His talons dug deep into her flesh as he forced her face close to his.
She could smell the venom in his hissing voice as his glowing emerald eyes bored into her soul. “You all held your contest, but you never faced ME.”
Shinjo rolled her body away from the swing, adjusting her balance and springing up, katana at the ready. Hida charged again, twirling his tetsubo as if it weighed no more than a chopstick. Shinjo knew now she would defeat her brother – if she remained quick. Confident in her impending victory, Shinjo threw her body prone, removing her body from the tetsubo’s arc only to rise behind her brother, striking him with the flat of her katana across the hamstrings. Their siblings laughed at the boldness of their sister’s maneuver. Hida was not amused.
“You move like the animals you so dearly love, little one,” Hida remarked as he leaned upon his club. His heavy armor had for the most part thwarted the attacks of his sister, but the day would be long and hot If each contest were prolonged. “Perhaps you should resign now and rule over them?”
Shinjo sighed. It seemed that none of her siblings understood her. But at least she could hear respect in the voice of her huge older brother. Until then, he had thought she was small and weak; now he realized her size was also an advantage. For her part, she was truly impressed with her brother’s fortitude, and vowed to emulate his perseverance in her own life.
In answer to Hida’s offer, Shinjo knelt, placing her katana upon the ground with its hilt toward Hida and countered with a smile, “Perhaps I shall, but only if you take your rightful place among them.”
He laughed, low and menacing, appreciative of her humor and savoring his planned triumph. The ground rumbled as Hida slowly closed upon Shinjo, ever gauging the maximum distance of his swing. Shinjo remained motionless, her eyes closed, her hands upon her knees, her thought only upon her goal. The whistle of his tetsubo called her to action. She rolled forward, and the tetsubo impacted the earth where she had knelt but a second before. She pulled her wakizashi free of her obi. Never leaving its saya, Shinjjo spun her wakizashi with her through Hida’s wide stance, until she felt it collide with her intended target. A low, pained moan escaped Hida as he collapsed heavily upon his knees. Shinjo placed her wakizashi upon her brother’s neck and roughly scratched his scalp. “Thus I score three times,” she pronounced to her siblings.
Shinjo struck her brother’s hand from her face and backed up, readying herself. Fu Leng turned his back to the battlements and beckoned her forward. “Come, little Shinjo,” he goaded. “You were impulsive enough to come visit me; now I give you the honor of being the first to fight me. Come, sister, see if you can push me off! I know you defeated our brother Hida, so let us begin the new contest!”
Shinjo straightened and looked at the rain that collected in her hand. It was pure now, having washed away the putrid smoke.
“You think I have learned nothing, brother. You are wrong.”
Shinjo was incensed.
Her brother Bayushi stood, a barely concealed smirk on his face touting to all his pride at having won the first two blows so handily. He is a cheat, Shinjo thought, but that failed to salve her injured pride. He had made her defeats look so easy. He knew her pride and her honor, and he was using those against her. It was humiliating.
“Let me make this last contest easier for you, sister,” said Bayushi, flaunting to all that he expected to win this one as handily as he had won the others. He began drawing a large circle in the sand with the saya of his blade. “I draw here the boundaries of our third contest. If either one of us leaves the circle, we lose the contest. With your power and speed, you should have no problem,” he added glancing up just for a moment.
Shinjo saw her opportunity. Bayushi was looking down, an dhe had always taken advantage of another’s distraction. Although she had vowed never to stoop to his level, she decided she would play his game, just this once, with his rules, and see how he liked it. Bayushi was still looking down, walking slowly as he traced the circle. Shinjo charged, intent on pushing him out before he could prepare.
Right before the impact, she saw him look up with calm and dancing eyes, and she knew in that sickening moment that he had wanted her to do just that. Instead of bracing himself against her charge, he bent like a reed in the wind. He flopped onto his back, his hand and feet guiding Shinjo’s body over his as he let her inertia carry her over his body and out of the ring.
It seemed to her that she had a long time to ponder this new lesson, for Bayushi had inscribed the circle near the edge of a rather sizable cliff…
“You have learned, little sister,” said Fu Leng, “but I have learned more.”
She knew he was right. Three times Fu Leng’s vile magic had struck her down on the battlements of his fortress. Each time Shinjo was panting, her body screaming for her to submit and lie still. But as she recovered from each agonizing blast, she saw the world under Fu Leng’s dominion. Humanity enslaved to work solely for his glory, serving his black arts and feeding his demonic minions. Helpless creatures horribly twisted and then tortured for entertainment. An empire where power and terror replaced honor and respect. All these things she saw; then her mother’s tears washed away the horrid sight and the blood that spattered Shinjo’s armor, and she would raise her body from the flagstones once more.
“Brother, I know why I came,” Shinjo said, the words barely escaping her quivering lips. “It was for love.”
Love of everything that suffered.
Even her lost brother.
The acrid black smell from the sulfurous tar pits of the Shadowlands assailed her nostrils, making her retch. Thunder rose from the filthy smoke-filled valley before her. The land was aglow with a patchwork of blazing fires, her goal clearly deliniated by that path where they did not burn. Alone she spurred her horse towards the black-scaled citadel that rose into the midnight sky, its bulk shrouded by the oily haze. Her horse shied, refusing at first to descend into the shadowy vale. She gripped the beast’s fur and wrapped it tightly in her own, striving to conquer both as she had for almost three days.
She had not believed such a land as this could exist. It was such a change…
Nine newborn children played at Amaterasu’s feet as she recovered the radiance she had lost during her labor. The children moved about her, exploring their world and playing in various games. Shinjo rested apart from the others at a place she could look down upon the vast world below. Her father, Onnotangu, obstructed some of the earth from his position in the sky below her. However, Shinjo could still see cities below, vacant and empty, their serpentine occupants long ago resuming their deep slumber. Elsewhere upon the earth other creatures flourished, a wondrous variety whose antics amused her endlessly. The creatures lived in harmony with the land – a land as amazingly diverse as those creatures that dwelt upon it.
Shinjo watched each creature, one by one, on its life journey, sharing in the experiences of each animal. As she watched, she felt a hand grasp hers, a gentle, kind, warm hand attached to a gentler, warmer smile. “So many mysteries to behold, little sister,” mused the sweet voice. “so much potential to explore. Would you enjoy seeing others? Once I am grown I shall create more creatures whose lives shall astound you. I have great plans.”
Shinjo laughed. She loved her brother Fu Leng.
Shinjo’s horse rolled its eyes in terror, but held its path true and steady. She moved ever onward and downward into the blackened valley while eyes of crimson looked upon her perfect form. None of the demons had dared approach her, thwarted by her divine essence and the rumors of the speed of her sword. Instead, they kept to the shadows between the flames and hissed vile threats at her.
She ignored them, of course. She had not come to talk to them, not even to slay them. They were nothing to her, but their presence tormented her nonetheless, reminding her of the question that hung about her still. As she passed through the gaping maw of her brother’s fortress, the question paced in Shinjo’s mind, demandingly… “Why have I come to him?” She hoped she would find an answer.
Anger filled Hantei’s face before she could even finish her request. She had foreseen her brother’s reaction before she had come to stand before the Emerald Throne. Yet, she had come to him first. Perhaps it was duty or loyalty. Perhaps she had hoped he would find merit in her mission and her reasons. Perhaps she had simply come to say good-bye. It did not matter; she had done what she had done. She had fulfilled her dharma in coming before the Emperor.
Shinjo pressed on, heedless of Hantei’s mounting anger. There was a strained edge to her voice as she spoke, “Our people die all around us and we do not even know why Fu Leng attacks?” I must do something!” Their missing brother had fallen apart from the rest of them when the children had come to earth. He had remained missing for long years until recently he had reappeared leading an army of gibbering fiends and corrupted beings from the Shadowlands. The dark army no rampaged across Rokugan destroying Hantei’s fledgling empire, and no means had yet been found to stop them.
“He is jealous of what is mine,” Hantei cried in frustration, pounding the arm of the Emerald Throne in emphasis. “He dragged me from our mother’s side because he could not stand any of us possessing what he cannot. What more is there to understand, sister?”
“Everything, my Lord. Everything,” Shinjo confessed.
The great hall filled the front section of the monstrous keep inside the gate, pillared and ascending fully a third the height of the citadel. A sickly light from an unknown source immersed the furnishings with a pale glow that accented the crimson stains upon the banquet table. Fu Leng’s minions fell back before her, leaving their dinner, still screaming, chained upon the table. Repulsed, Shinjo struck an unspeakable creature’s head from its shoulders before striding to the broad staircase at the far end of the hall. A man dressed in oily black armor awaited her at the foot of the stairs. Bowing low, he informed Shinjo that his master awaited her above. Anxious to be away from the pall of death that tainted the hall, she quickly moved up to the keep’s battlements.
At the top she looked around, but all was black. The smoke from the fires of Fu Leng’s army filled the air and smothered the stars above. Finally she saw a shadow move, black even among the shadows, pacing along the parapet.
“I am sorry for the clamor below, sister,” said Fu Leng, “but my servants can’t seem to learn the manners that yours adopted so quickly.” Shinjo noticed immediately that his voice had not changed from the time long ago when they had witnessed the mysteries of the lands below – it was still warm and compelling. But there had been changes. Even though Fu Leng’s long robes covered his body completely, she could see that the robes hung upon him loosely and that his stance was awkward as he paced; bent, like a lame horse.
Shinjo watched and waited; there was nothing she could say. Fu Leng stopped pacing, and looked out over his army.
Thunder echoed across the skies and a light rain began falling. “Why do you suppose mother cries this time, little sister?” Fu Leng asked, not turning to face her. A pause. “She cried for us once…remember?”
They ran in terror, all of them, as their father hunted them down. They knew there was no escape and still they ran. Bayushi in his conceit challenged Lord Moon, and he was snatched up for his troubles and swallowed. Clothed in fury, Akodo charged, only to be devoured himself. Shinjo ran like the wind while Fu Leng hid, watching in horror and revulsion as their mother offered sake to their father to help him digest their temperamental children. The sung goddess followed her manic husband and gave him more sake as Hida, Doji, and Shiba were likewise found and consumed.
Togasi stopped Shinjo in her flight and led her to Fu Leng’s clever refuge. “Come out, brother,” Togashi called calmly, “we must each play our part if we are not to perish. We cannot deny our place in the celestial order.”
“Fool! You have doomed me!” roared Fu Leng, and he sprang from hiding upon his brother, Togashi. And while Shinjo tried to stop their combat, their father found them.
“I remember,” said Shinjo as the rain continued to fall. But, she thought, those tears had been pure, not black like this.
“Why have you come to me?” he said. Her mind seethed with questions of her own. Where have you been? What happened to you? But he had asked her the same question that had been tormenting her, and this time the question carried her brother’s voice. It was a new perspective. A glimmer of an answer came to her mind, but only the obvious left her lips. “To find why you fight us.”
Fu Leng turned to her. She could now see his eyes glowing green in the dark, and she knew her answer had not been enough. Not for him, nor for herself.
“Why have you come to me?” Her emotions flared. Images flashed – his ready smile and former beauty flew across her vision. Memories of the wonders of this earth they had beheld together and the company they had kept drew forth her response, another facet of the answer she sought: “Because you are my brother.”
He lurched towards her, his very movements painful beneath the robes. He pointed one arm at her.
“Why have you come to me?” And she gasped. Why had she come? Why had not Hantei, Togashi, or Doji come to their brother? Why did they continue to fight when so many were dying? But all her siblings still lived. It was only humanity that suffered. There was no fear of death amongst her brothers and sisters, for no creature was their match. If she did not fear death, what did she fear? Defeat? No…what could defeat bring if it could not bring death? The echoes of the screams from the table in the keep far below reminded her of her answer. “To save the people.”
And a hand grasped her face, a heinous, crewl, clawed hand with talons that grasped her in a cold iron vise. “So many mysteries are mine now, little sister,” pronounced the sweet voice in a soft tone, “pwers I discovered in the depths of the earth.” His voice began to grow cold with anger and hate. “You do not know what I have seen. I was trapped in the earth with the entrails of our father covering me…his blood seeping around me, into me…his hand still clutching mine…I learned so much as my beloved family left me to rot!” The sudden shift in her brother’s temper took her by surprise. His talons dug deep into her flesh as he forced her face close to his.
She could smell the venom in his hissing voice as his glowing emerald eyes bored into her soul. “You all held your contest, but you never faced ME.”
Shinjo rolled her body away from the swing, adjusting her balance and springing up, katana at the ready. Hida charged again, twirling his tetsubo as if it weighed no more than a chopstick. Shinjo knew now she would defeat her brother – if she remained quick. Confident in her impending victory, Shinjo threw her body prone, removing her body from the tetsubo’s arc only to rise behind her brother, striking him with the flat of her katana across the hamstrings. Their siblings laughed at the boldness of their sister’s maneuver. Hida was not amused.
“You move like the animals you so dearly love, little one,” Hida remarked as he leaned upon his club. His heavy armor had for the most part thwarted the attacks of his sister, but the day would be long and hot If each contest were prolonged. “Perhaps you should resign now and rule over them?”
Shinjo sighed. It seemed that none of her siblings understood her. But at least she could hear respect in the voice of her huge older brother. Until then, he had thought she was small and weak; now he realized her size was also an advantage. For her part, she was truly impressed with her brother’s fortitude, and vowed to emulate his perseverance in her own life.
In answer to Hida’s offer, Shinjo knelt, placing her katana upon the ground with its hilt toward Hida and countered with a smile, “Perhaps I shall, but only if you take your rightful place among them.”
He laughed, low and menacing, appreciative of her humor and savoring his planned triumph. The ground rumbled as Hida slowly closed upon Shinjo, ever gauging the maximum distance of his swing. Shinjo remained motionless, her eyes closed, her hands upon her knees, her thought only upon her goal. The whistle of his tetsubo called her to action. She rolled forward, and the tetsubo impacted the earth where she had knelt but a second before. She pulled her wakizashi free of her obi. Never leaving its saya, Shinjjo spun her wakizashi with her through Hida’s wide stance, until she felt it collide with her intended target. A low, pained moan escaped Hida as he collapsed heavily upon his knees. Shinjo placed her wakizashi upon her brother’s neck and roughly scratched his scalp. “Thus I score three times,” she pronounced to her siblings.
Shinjo struck her brother’s hand from her face and backed up, readying herself. Fu Leng turned his back to the battlements and beckoned her forward. “Come, little Shinjo,” he goaded. “You were impulsive enough to come visit me; now I give you the honor of being the first to fight me. Come, sister, see if you can push me off! I know you defeated our brother Hida, so let us begin the new contest!”
Shinjo straightened and looked at the rain that collected in her hand. It was pure now, having washed away the putrid smoke.
“You think I have learned nothing, brother. You are wrong.”
Shinjo was incensed.
Her brother Bayushi stood, a barely concealed smirk on his face touting to all his pride at having won the first two blows so handily. He is a cheat, Shinjo thought, but that failed to salve her injured pride. He had made her defeats look so easy. He knew her pride and her honor, and he was using those against her. It was humiliating.
“Let me make this last contest easier for you, sister,” said Bayushi, flaunting to all that he expected to win this one as handily as he had won the others. He began drawing a large circle in the sand with the saya of his blade. “I draw here the boundaries of our third contest. If either one of us leaves the circle, we lose the contest. With your power and speed, you should have no problem,” he added glancing up just for a moment.
Shinjo saw her opportunity. Bayushi was looking down, an dhe had always taken advantage of another’s distraction. Although she had vowed never to stoop to his level, she decided she would play his game, just this once, with his rules, and see how he liked it. Bayushi was still looking down, walking slowly as he traced the circle. Shinjo charged, intent on pushing him out before he could prepare.
Right before the impact, she saw him look up with calm and dancing eyes, and she knew in that sickening moment that he had wanted her to do just that. Instead of bracing himself against her charge, he bent like a reed in the wind. He flopped onto his back, his hand and feet guiding Shinjo’s body over his as he let her inertia carry her over his body and out of the ring.
It seemed to her that she had a long time to ponder this new lesson, for Bayushi had inscribed the circle near the edge of a rather sizable cliff…
“You have learned, little sister,” said Fu Leng, “but I have learned more.”
She knew he was right. Three times Fu Leng’s vile magic had struck her down on the battlements of his fortress. Each time Shinjo was panting, her body screaming for her to submit and lie still. But as she recovered from each agonizing blast, she saw the world under Fu Leng’s dominion. Humanity enslaved to work solely for his glory, serving his black arts and feeding his demonic minions. Helpless creatures horribly twisted and then tortured for entertainment. An empire where power and terror replaced honor and respect. All these things she saw; then her mother’s tears washed away the horrid sight and the blood that spattered Shinjo’s armor, and she would raise her body from the flagstones once more.
“Brother, I know why I came,” Shinjo said, the words barely escaping her quivering lips. “It was for love.”
Love of everything that suffered.
Even her lost brother.
