The Measure of Mortality
Shiba sat calmly, listening to the monk’s words of wisdom to Emperor Hantei. He was scarcely conscious of the writing quill in his hand as it scrawled the half-understood sentences across a sheet of crisp rice paper. A single, low-burning candle lit the Imperial Throne Room, casting wavering shadows between the thick tapestries upon the walls.
“Hantei,” the small man who had introduced himself as Shinsei continued, “I have enjoyed our time together immensely, but I ask again – will you let me take seven warriors into your brother’s realm?”
Hantei reclined in the deep seat, running his forceful fingers below his chin as he considered the request. Several hours earlier, the conversation had begun with the same words, and though many, many had been said since, none had weighed as heavily upon the Emperor as those.
A long stillness fell over the room, and Shiba looked down at the stack of blurry pages he had written. If every rice paddy in the Empire were sacrificed for paper, we still could not capture the sum of this man’s wisdom, he thought. And as he looked up, he noticed that Shinsei was looking at him. The wise man’s eyes penetrated him like the sharpest blade, yet cut with the delicate grace of the finest geisha. He was gently probing the Kami for…
“I will grant your appeal,” Hantei began. “My brothers and sisters will be gathered at once.”
“I’m afraid that cannot be,” Shinsei countered. “Only the Children of the Earth may combat Fu Leng and win.”
“Mortals?” Hantei asked.
“Precisely. ‘Fortune favors the mortal man,’ Hantei. They are the future fo this world. They are the ones who must fight for it.”
Hantei was silent for another long moment. The decision to send mortals into Fu Leng’s realm weighed heavily upon him. But he had been taken by this little man’s knowledge. Easily the finest warrior he had ever seen, and doubly so the most learned, the words he spoke were true. The Emperor knew this in his heart.
“Agreed,” he said finally. “You may have your warriors – chosen by the Kami from among their provinces.”
“I must choose them.” Again, the little man surprised Hantei.
“Very well.”
Shinsei bowed his head low before the seated man, and his eyes darted suddenly back to Shiba. The Kami was unsettled by his stare, as if his right to exist there in that place, in that time, was being challenged. Then Shinsei rose and turned to leave, touching Shiba kindly upon the shoulder as he passed.
When Shiba stood, the prophet was observing his night’s work. Picking up one of the brittle pages, Shinsei asked, “Do you know what this is, Shiba?”
“It is a record of your talk, Shinsei,” he responded.
“No.” The word carried more import to Shiba than any of the last several hours. It shamed him with the weight of ignorance. “To you, this is only the present, a single evening’s labor to be passed to another for transcription. But to those who will come later, this is history. Mistakes made, glories hallowed, battles won and lost… lessons learned.”
Shinsei’s eyes focused into Shiba’s again, conveying a message: You cannot appreciate history, because you will live forever.
“We must teach them to remember what has come before, so that we can improve the future. They must be part of what they are struggling for, or they will never prevail.”
That is why you cannot fight Fu Leng.
“Come, Shiba. I will need your help to finish this.”
“To finish…?”
“Reconciliation.”
------------------------------------------------
Shiba trudged onward through the blasted landscape, eyes level with the horizon. He couldn’t afford for them to shift, or the dark influence of this place would seize them and never let go. He walked in the same stance he had assumed so many days before, carried his sword in the same defensive position. He could not afford to stop, or sleep, or think. If he did, Fu Leng’s realm would destroy him.
He did not allow himself to consider the condition of Shinsei and his last remaining chage, nor how they had fared since the Isawa had discovered their presence in the Shadowlands a lifetime ago. Sworn to defend the Isawa and serve the needs of the Children of the Earth, the task had fallen upon Shiba. To find the lost Thunders, and bring them back to the land of the living, Shiba must go into his Dark Brother’s realm. He only thought of their safe return, but Shinsei’s words still haunted him, with each step he took through the blasted land.
…you cannot fight Fu Leng.
Shiba had known when he entered the Shadowlands that he was doing so at immense personal risk. He did not think about whether he would be coming back. Yet now, out in the black, shattered wilderness, he began to doubt that he would ever see his brother’s Emerald Empire again. And Asako’s face continued to haunt him.
Ahead, within the shelter of two great and jagged spires of cracked rock jutting out of the plain, Shiba heard the sounds of combat. A blast of fetid air suddenly exploded from within, lighting the sky for miles in every direction. Fighting down the urge to turn back, Shiba forced his way up and into the mouth of the unnatural structure. Within, curled into the apex of the stones, was a multi-limbed creature whose skin seemed to have been flayed away, leaving only rancid strips of grey membrane strapped over its pulpy underskin. An Oni, but not like any of the demon-spawn of the Shadowlands. This beast was the first of its kind and the most powerful creature in Fu Leng’s realm. Behind it stood two creatures, one Shinsei, the other unrecognizable behind a mask of blood. As Shiba strained to see, a portion of the beast’s belly twisted toward him and eyes erupted from within it, observing the new arrival with startling objectivity.
Shiba braced, prepared to engage the Oni, but was surprised to see it jerk backward, recoiling from some attack from below. Losing its grip upon the stone, the Oni crashed down into the bitter earth before him. Shinsei’s blood-soaked companion pounced upon it, brandishing a crimson wakizashi. Three arching stabs ripped into the Oni’s back. With a howl, the First Oni’s belly tore again, and an arm reached to grasp the man in the rainbow cloak, crushing his ribcage before carelessly tossing him at Shiba.
Him. Her. Shosuro. The bloodstained face was its own maks, and as Shiba looked down upon the slowly rising mortal Thunder, he saw no fear in her eyes.
Shiba heard the obscene shifting of the Oni approaching. Raising his katana as high as he could within the confines, Shiba brought it down into the disgusting mass. The edges of the cut curled back upon themselves in its wake, revealing a dark purple interior that pulsed to a jagged irregular beat. Hesitating only a moment, he continued his assault, swinging back and forth as forcefully as he could manage.
He could see Shosuro, her wakizashi in hand, thrusting and sweeping to the side. She was covered in blood – blood which appeared to be the Thunder’s own. He hoped he was wrong.
A moment later, without warning, a large fist formed of the creature’s flesh burst out from within its wounds. Shocked at the amount of strength and substance left in the First Oni, Shiba struggled to free himself from its malignant grasp. His sword had fallen to the ground somewhere beneath him, and his fingers worked in vain to find purchase on the fleshy column’s blood-covered surface.
First a harsh tingling, then an agonizing fire swept across the skin exposed to the beast as he realized his flesh was melting away. His chest was an inferno of pain as nerves and muscle first numbed and then dissolved. He fought to remain calm, rational, focusing on the problem, not the symptoms, but Shinsei’s words kept returning to him through the haze of agony.
…you cannot fight Fu Leng.
Through a rupture that formed in the Oni’s mid-section, its eyes appeared once more, projecting out from it upon long stalks of rigid purple tissue. They advanced until they were level with Shiba’s own and then…blinked. The casual, uncaring way in which the First Oni was killing him finally took hold, provoking Shiba into wrathful action. Taking a firm hold of both stalks behind the bulbous whites, he yanked to the side, ripping them free from the main body with a single, violent motion.
Immediately, the mass of its flesh retreated, dropping him roughly into the ground. Whipping about and wildly sprouting random limbs, the Oni lashed out at anything around it. The sound it made was like that of a dying horse as it knocked aside one of the stones and leapt free of the ebony prison. Its terrible screams of agony could be heard for many long minutes after while it shambled across the dead countryside, preparing to die. Even now, smaller creatures gathered, following it. Preparing to feast.
Shiba collapsed into a shattered heap. Through a reddish haze, he saw a small form approaching, and he heard the wings of a crow. Hushed words flowed like cool water into his remaining ear. “Shiba…”
It was Shinsei.
“I am dying,” Shiba muttered through moments of anguish.
“No. You may not live, but you will go on.”
Confused, Shiba peered through the growing darkness, feeling his body beginning to choke. Breath became a labor, and each second stretched into eternity. Eternity…
“You have learned the measure of mortality. Now you must learn its secret…”
With that, Shinsei leaned closer, until he was almost touching the fallen Kami. His voice continued to echo in Shiba’s mind, whispering a long and complex litany. As he continued, Shiba saw the world contract, and the stars begin to draw close. The earth and the sky – mortal and immortal – and the Path between the two. For a startling second, an infinite, celestial walkway hung before him. A Path that mortals would not be ready to venture upon for ages to come, but one that could not be ignored. In Shinsei’s words, Shiba found the truth of man’s beginning and its end, and every point in between. He saw the challenges they would face, and knew how they would overcome them. He aw the face of every human who would ever live, and knew the final fates of all. He was all at once one with the entirety of human existence…
…and, for the first time, he understood why they were so important.
They needed a protector.
A guardian.
A guide.
Shiba had sworn to defend humanity. Now, he must prove that his word was good…for eternity. “You will take the Thunder – and what I have given you – back to the Empire.”
I cannot… thought Shiba, but his voice had already ceased. His body felt no more pain, and only the Path hung before him, a thousand stars in a savage, black sky.
“You must.”
-----------------------------------------------
Weeks later, Shosuro stumbled out of the Shadowlands. Shinsei and Shiba where nowhere to be seen.
Except by Shosuro.
“Shiba…” She murmured as she fell to bloody knees outside Otosan Uchi. The crowd gasped and fell back. Bayushi stepped forward to take her into his arms.
“Shiba is not here, daughter…”
Shosuro smiled. “You are wrong. He is everywhere.” She looked into the sky, and her eyes fell upon a young man who had carried her into the Imperial City. As she smiled, he bowed, and vanished into the unsuspecting crowd. Shiba, whose spirit watched over the scene of her death with a proud, fulfilled gaze, had brought her home.
-----------------------------------------------
The cool night air tugged at Asakko’s mind. Weary from a day of celebration, she found it difficult to focus. The Empire rejoiced in its salvation, its victory over Fu Leng, but Asako could only weep a the terrible losses of the war. Further, the wedding of her son and Isawa’s daughter was only a few weeks away, and her mind felt numb and drained after hours of contemplating the complicated angles and uncomfortable presence of their wedding gift. She was sure that once it was complete, it would be more…appealing, but in its present state, it was like staring into the heart of the sun during an earthquake.
She closed her eyes, hoping the dizziness would pass.
“You always looked lovely in the moonlight, Asako.”
The voice was eerily familiar, and made her forget the dull ache in her head. Suddenly alert, she bolted upright and whirled around to face the intruder. Standing before her was a man she did not know. His hair was black, and long, and his face bore the features of Shiba’s children. He wore the colors of the Phoenix, but he had never come to her before. Yet his eyes…his eyes looked for all the Empire like those of her dearest friend…
“Shiba…?”
“Asako, I have something for you,” the voice was the same.
“What?” She tried desperately to rationalize what she was seeing, hearing. “how can you be here? You look like Tsuzaki…”
“I am many things. I am Shiba, and yet I am Tsuzaki, son of Shiba. We are…both.”
“How can this be…?” Her voice trailed off as the realization sunk in. “You never returned from the Shadowlands.”
“I have something I must give you.”
Asako’s next question dwindled into a silent stammering. She found herself suddenly captivated by her old friend’s voice. It was like falling into a deep chasm, and watching the sun’s light blotted out beyond the shrinking rift above. Every word unlocked lost truths within her that she could not, should not understand.
“Asako, you must listen to me very carefully. I have been given a gift that mortal man must know and charged with the choice of its human guardian. Someone must protect the knowledge until the rest of you are ready for it. Someone must guide all of you down the Path.”
“What…” Asako tried desperately to bring questions together, to make Shiba explain, but she was now completely enraptured with his words. They crept into her mind and began multiplying, merging to form new ideas – concepts she didn’t grasp, but could see in her mind’s eye.
“Humans are the key to greatness, Asako. They alone will be able to stand against the forces that will threaten the Empire. They alone will be able to forge history, and understand the measure of mortality. I am here to show you how to guide them.
"I am here to give you the future....”
“Hantei,” the small man who had introduced himself as Shinsei continued, “I have enjoyed our time together immensely, but I ask again – will you let me take seven warriors into your brother’s realm?”
Hantei reclined in the deep seat, running his forceful fingers below his chin as he considered the request. Several hours earlier, the conversation had begun with the same words, and though many, many had been said since, none had weighed as heavily upon the Emperor as those.
A long stillness fell over the room, and Shiba looked down at the stack of blurry pages he had written. If every rice paddy in the Empire were sacrificed for paper, we still could not capture the sum of this man’s wisdom, he thought. And as he looked up, he noticed that Shinsei was looking at him. The wise man’s eyes penetrated him like the sharpest blade, yet cut with the delicate grace of the finest geisha. He was gently probing the Kami for…
“I will grant your appeal,” Hantei began. “My brothers and sisters will be gathered at once.”
“I’m afraid that cannot be,” Shinsei countered. “Only the Children of the Earth may combat Fu Leng and win.”
“Mortals?” Hantei asked.
“Precisely. ‘Fortune favors the mortal man,’ Hantei. They are the future fo this world. They are the ones who must fight for it.”
Hantei was silent for another long moment. The decision to send mortals into Fu Leng’s realm weighed heavily upon him. But he had been taken by this little man’s knowledge. Easily the finest warrior he had ever seen, and doubly so the most learned, the words he spoke were true. The Emperor knew this in his heart.
“Agreed,” he said finally. “You may have your warriors – chosen by the Kami from among their provinces.”
“I must choose them.” Again, the little man surprised Hantei.
“Very well.”
Shinsei bowed his head low before the seated man, and his eyes darted suddenly back to Shiba. The Kami was unsettled by his stare, as if his right to exist there in that place, in that time, was being challenged. Then Shinsei rose and turned to leave, touching Shiba kindly upon the shoulder as he passed.
When Shiba stood, the prophet was observing his night’s work. Picking up one of the brittle pages, Shinsei asked, “Do you know what this is, Shiba?”
“It is a record of your talk, Shinsei,” he responded.
“No.” The word carried more import to Shiba than any of the last several hours. It shamed him with the weight of ignorance. “To you, this is only the present, a single evening’s labor to be passed to another for transcription. But to those who will come later, this is history. Mistakes made, glories hallowed, battles won and lost… lessons learned.”
Shinsei’s eyes focused into Shiba’s again, conveying a message: You cannot appreciate history, because you will live forever.
“We must teach them to remember what has come before, so that we can improve the future. They must be part of what they are struggling for, or they will never prevail.”
That is why you cannot fight Fu Leng.
“Come, Shiba. I will need your help to finish this.”
“To finish…?”
“Reconciliation.”
------------------------------------------------
Shiba trudged onward through the blasted landscape, eyes level with the horizon. He couldn’t afford for them to shift, or the dark influence of this place would seize them and never let go. He walked in the same stance he had assumed so many days before, carried his sword in the same defensive position. He could not afford to stop, or sleep, or think. If he did, Fu Leng’s realm would destroy him.
He did not allow himself to consider the condition of Shinsei and his last remaining chage, nor how they had fared since the Isawa had discovered their presence in the Shadowlands a lifetime ago. Sworn to defend the Isawa and serve the needs of the Children of the Earth, the task had fallen upon Shiba. To find the lost Thunders, and bring them back to the land of the living, Shiba must go into his Dark Brother’s realm. He only thought of their safe return, but Shinsei’s words still haunted him, with each step he took through the blasted land.
…you cannot fight Fu Leng.
Shiba had known when he entered the Shadowlands that he was doing so at immense personal risk. He did not think about whether he would be coming back. Yet now, out in the black, shattered wilderness, he began to doubt that he would ever see his brother’s Emerald Empire again. And Asako’s face continued to haunt him.
Ahead, within the shelter of two great and jagged spires of cracked rock jutting out of the plain, Shiba heard the sounds of combat. A blast of fetid air suddenly exploded from within, lighting the sky for miles in every direction. Fighting down the urge to turn back, Shiba forced his way up and into the mouth of the unnatural structure. Within, curled into the apex of the stones, was a multi-limbed creature whose skin seemed to have been flayed away, leaving only rancid strips of grey membrane strapped over its pulpy underskin. An Oni, but not like any of the demon-spawn of the Shadowlands. This beast was the first of its kind and the most powerful creature in Fu Leng’s realm. Behind it stood two creatures, one Shinsei, the other unrecognizable behind a mask of blood. As Shiba strained to see, a portion of the beast’s belly twisted toward him and eyes erupted from within it, observing the new arrival with startling objectivity.
Shiba braced, prepared to engage the Oni, but was surprised to see it jerk backward, recoiling from some attack from below. Losing its grip upon the stone, the Oni crashed down into the bitter earth before him. Shinsei’s blood-soaked companion pounced upon it, brandishing a crimson wakizashi. Three arching stabs ripped into the Oni’s back. With a howl, the First Oni’s belly tore again, and an arm reached to grasp the man in the rainbow cloak, crushing his ribcage before carelessly tossing him at Shiba.
Him. Her. Shosuro. The bloodstained face was its own maks, and as Shiba looked down upon the slowly rising mortal Thunder, he saw no fear in her eyes.
Shiba heard the obscene shifting of the Oni approaching. Raising his katana as high as he could within the confines, Shiba brought it down into the disgusting mass. The edges of the cut curled back upon themselves in its wake, revealing a dark purple interior that pulsed to a jagged irregular beat. Hesitating only a moment, he continued his assault, swinging back and forth as forcefully as he could manage.
He could see Shosuro, her wakizashi in hand, thrusting and sweeping to the side. She was covered in blood – blood which appeared to be the Thunder’s own. He hoped he was wrong.
A moment later, without warning, a large fist formed of the creature’s flesh burst out from within its wounds. Shocked at the amount of strength and substance left in the First Oni, Shiba struggled to free himself from its malignant grasp. His sword had fallen to the ground somewhere beneath him, and his fingers worked in vain to find purchase on the fleshy column’s blood-covered surface.
First a harsh tingling, then an agonizing fire swept across the skin exposed to the beast as he realized his flesh was melting away. His chest was an inferno of pain as nerves and muscle first numbed and then dissolved. He fought to remain calm, rational, focusing on the problem, not the symptoms, but Shinsei’s words kept returning to him through the haze of agony.
…you cannot fight Fu Leng.
Through a rupture that formed in the Oni’s mid-section, its eyes appeared once more, projecting out from it upon long stalks of rigid purple tissue. They advanced until they were level with Shiba’s own and then…blinked. The casual, uncaring way in which the First Oni was killing him finally took hold, provoking Shiba into wrathful action. Taking a firm hold of both stalks behind the bulbous whites, he yanked to the side, ripping them free from the main body with a single, violent motion.
Immediately, the mass of its flesh retreated, dropping him roughly into the ground. Whipping about and wildly sprouting random limbs, the Oni lashed out at anything around it. The sound it made was like that of a dying horse as it knocked aside one of the stones and leapt free of the ebony prison. Its terrible screams of agony could be heard for many long minutes after while it shambled across the dead countryside, preparing to die. Even now, smaller creatures gathered, following it. Preparing to feast.
Shiba collapsed into a shattered heap. Through a reddish haze, he saw a small form approaching, and he heard the wings of a crow. Hushed words flowed like cool water into his remaining ear. “Shiba…”
It was Shinsei.
“I am dying,” Shiba muttered through moments of anguish.
“No. You may not live, but you will go on.”
Confused, Shiba peered through the growing darkness, feeling his body beginning to choke. Breath became a labor, and each second stretched into eternity. Eternity…
“You have learned the measure of mortality. Now you must learn its secret…”
With that, Shinsei leaned closer, until he was almost touching the fallen Kami. His voice continued to echo in Shiba’s mind, whispering a long and complex litany. As he continued, Shiba saw the world contract, and the stars begin to draw close. The earth and the sky – mortal and immortal – and the Path between the two. For a startling second, an infinite, celestial walkway hung before him. A Path that mortals would not be ready to venture upon for ages to come, but one that could not be ignored. In Shinsei’s words, Shiba found the truth of man’s beginning and its end, and every point in between. He saw the challenges they would face, and knew how they would overcome them. He aw the face of every human who would ever live, and knew the final fates of all. He was all at once one with the entirety of human existence…
…and, for the first time, he understood why they were so important.
They needed a protector.
A guardian.
A guide.
Shiba had sworn to defend humanity. Now, he must prove that his word was good…for eternity. “You will take the Thunder – and what I have given you – back to the Empire.”
I cannot… thought Shiba, but his voice had already ceased. His body felt no more pain, and only the Path hung before him, a thousand stars in a savage, black sky.
“You must.”
-----------------------------------------------
Weeks later, Shosuro stumbled out of the Shadowlands. Shinsei and Shiba where nowhere to be seen.
Except by Shosuro.
“Shiba…” She murmured as she fell to bloody knees outside Otosan Uchi. The crowd gasped and fell back. Bayushi stepped forward to take her into his arms.
“Shiba is not here, daughter…”
Shosuro smiled. “You are wrong. He is everywhere.” She looked into the sky, and her eyes fell upon a young man who had carried her into the Imperial City. As she smiled, he bowed, and vanished into the unsuspecting crowd. Shiba, whose spirit watched over the scene of her death with a proud, fulfilled gaze, had brought her home.
-----------------------------------------------
The cool night air tugged at Asakko’s mind. Weary from a day of celebration, she found it difficult to focus. The Empire rejoiced in its salvation, its victory over Fu Leng, but Asako could only weep a the terrible losses of the war. Further, the wedding of her son and Isawa’s daughter was only a few weeks away, and her mind felt numb and drained after hours of contemplating the complicated angles and uncomfortable presence of their wedding gift. She was sure that once it was complete, it would be more…appealing, but in its present state, it was like staring into the heart of the sun during an earthquake.
She closed her eyes, hoping the dizziness would pass.
“You always looked lovely in the moonlight, Asako.”
The voice was eerily familiar, and made her forget the dull ache in her head. Suddenly alert, she bolted upright and whirled around to face the intruder. Standing before her was a man she did not know. His hair was black, and long, and his face bore the features of Shiba’s children. He wore the colors of the Phoenix, but he had never come to her before. Yet his eyes…his eyes looked for all the Empire like those of her dearest friend…
“Shiba…?”
“Asako, I have something for you,” the voice was the same.
“What?” She tried desperately to rationalize what she was seeing, hearing. “how can you be here? You look like Tsuzaki…”
“I am many things. I am Shiba, and yet I am Tsuzaki, son of Shiba. We are…both.”
“How can this be…?” Her voice trailed off as the realization sunk in. “You never returned from the Shadowlands.”
“I have something I must give you.”
Asako’s next question dwindled into a silent stammering. She found herself suddenly captivated by her old friend’s voice. It was like falling into a deep chasm, and watching the sun’s light blotted out beyond the shrinking rift above. Every word unlocked lost truths within her that she could not, should not understand.
“Asako, you must listen to me very carefully. I have been given a gift that mortal man must know and charged with the choice of its human guardian. Someone must protect the knowledge until the rest of you are ready for it. Someone must guide all of you down the Path.”
“What…” Asako tried desperately to bring questions together, to make Shiba explain, but she was now completely enraptured with his words. They crept into her mind and began multiplying, merging to form new ideas – concepts she didn’t grasp, but could see in her mind’s eye.
“Humans are the key to greatness, Asako. They alone will be able to stand against the forces that will threaten the Empire. They alone will be able to forge history, and understand the measure of mortality. I am here to show you how to guide them.
"I am here to give you the future....”