The Victory Tribute of Daidoji Uji
by Kakita Kaori
These events took place following the events of Soul of the Fallen and the release of Ambition's Debt, but before Strike at Midnight. It is my attempt to show the glory awarded to Daidoji Uji by the Crane for agreeing to meet with Kuwanan and ending the Crane Civil War, and the respect and honor he is due.
I was in a small town nestled on the border of lands of those called the Crane like an egret in the lion's jaws. It has served as many things in its past: a staging ground for an army at war, a haven for merchants in peace. A shelter for the wounded. A shrine for the dead. Although I have been at this place for nine whole months, I still I fail to understand the people within it.
"The General is coming." I heard the whisper spread from one building to another, spoken in hushed tones between one huu-man and the next. "He is coming," they murmured, and began coming out to the street. I do not know how the had learned the news, these huu-mans, but "He is going to meet Kuwanan-sama," came the rumors. Everyone was talking.
The main road of the village came to life as men and women poured from their houses to line the sides. They all were there: Doji in brilliant blue and white armor, shining to shame the red fire of the Bright Eye. Kakita, their mons showing their embrace of the sword, even while their hands worked on painting and music. Daidoji, solemn and grim, their steel blued in the fires of war. Even an Asahina or two, white robes falling about them, purer than the world they had to live in. The commoners: farmers, merchants, craftsmen, drab colors besides the bright samurai, but reflecting their demeanors like a mirror. Even the Burakumin, in rags, paused from their work to look.
I am Greensnake, sent from Shinomen forest to watch these lands, and learn more about these Crane and their war. I disturbed the people of this town for many weeks before they became accustomed to my presence. I am small and well-formed, and I am told my nature is pleasant. I consider myself a swift student in the ways of Man, and can speak just as one of them. I have earned their trust. But I did not understand what these humans were doing.
I moved to an ancient woman who had hobbled out from behind the canopy of a merchants booth. "Why are you here?"
"We are here to see Daidoji Uji-sama," the old woman said, voice scratchy with age. "We are here to give him honor."
"Why?" I asked, turning to a duelist with a bound arm. "Has he not brought you war?" The grief that I had seen among these people caused by the fighting amongst themselves was heart-wrenching.
"Because he has done what he had to do. He did as his honor required of him. He did as our ancestors demanded." The duelist held his arm with a hand. A Daidoji had given him the wound as he strove to help stop the battle.
"Then you do not support Kuwanan-sama?" I looked at a middle-aged man, with gray in his hair, his armor worn by the years. He had the mon of the Daidoji.
"We support Kuwanan-sama too. Anyone skilled in battling the Lion would know that the Crane armies could fight either the Lion, or Yoritomo's Alliance, but not both. Even with their forces to the South, the Lion would crush us on a divided front. He had to stop Uji."
I was very confused. How could these people, who had been so wounded by these two men, still support both? Surely they must love one, and hate the other, or hate one and love the other. How could they compromise their hearts so?
As I mused, a maiden, fresh-faced and beautiful with flowers in her hair and dressed in wedding robes of red and white, smiled at me. The smile was sad. "We are the Crane, friend Naga. To some, the honor is to obey ones Lord, even when you know that what your Lord commands is wrong, and it goes against the calling of your spirit. And that is a truly important part: we cannot forget our duty to our lord and our clan, ever. Some believe that honor is your clan's, to be sacrificed freely for the good of the clan, without regret. There is truth in this too -- it is arrogance to value your honor over the lives of others, especially in pettiness. But for us, honor is doing what is right and just, holding to the principles of Bushido...all of them. When there is a conflict of Bushido, it is not honorable to excuse ourselves from one precept of Bushido for the sake of following another, or to excuse ourselves from Bushido to save the clan. We do not have such excuses."
Again, I asked her, "But what does that have to do with Uji-sama?"
She said, "In his heart, he had a conflict of honor -- loyalty to his Lord, and loyalty to our ancestors. He is going to Kuwanan, now. He is facing his consequences, not running from them to protect his pride. In his deeds, he has saved us, many times In the Clan Wars, and the great battles with the Shadowlands. He has shown his courage time and again. Now he is showing his honor. We would not be Crane if we did not recognize the difficulty he has faced, or if we did not respect the path he has chosen and the end to which it leads him."
I shook my head, watching the streets line with people, but she had disappeared by the time I turned back to her. A hush fell over the crowd, and I heard the sound of horses. Seven men, some armored, some not, rode down the middle of the silent street. The banners fluttered above them in the wind with serpent and spear. The foremost huu-man's face was veiled, and his eyes were very dark. As he passed, the people of the village from samurai to burakumin bowed deeply before him, and I could sense true respect and reverence in them. All had come, to honor him. Even the Doji paid him homage.
As he passed me, I too bowed.
But I did not understand. I am not a Crane.
I am the Qitosh
Greensnake Watcher
These events took place following the events of Soul of the Fallen and the release of Ambition's Debt, but before Strike at Midnight. It is my attempt to show the glory awarded to Daidoji Uji by the Crane for agreeing to meet with Kuwanan and ending the Crane Civil War, and the respect and honor he is due.
I was in a small town nestled on the border of lands of those called the Crane like an egret in the lion's jaws. It has served as many things in its past: a staging ground for an army at war, a haven for merchants in peace. A shelter for the wounded. A shrine for the dead. Although I have been at this place for nine whole months, I still I fail to understand the people within it.
"The General is coming." I heard the whisper spread from one building to another, spoken in hushed tones between one huu-man and the next. "He is coming," they murmured, and began coming out to the street. I do not know how the had learned the news, these huu-mans, but "He is going to meet Kuwanan-sama," came the rumors. Everyone was talking.
The main road of the village came to life as men and women poured from their houses to line the sides. They all were there: Doji in brilliant blue and white armor, shining to shame the red fire of the Bright Eye. Kakita, their mons showing their embrace of the sword, even while their hands worked on painting and music. Daidoji, solemn and grim, their steel blued in the fires of war. Even an Asahina or two, white robes falling about them, purer than the world they had to live in. The commoners: farmers, merchants, craftsmen, drab colors besides the bright samurai, but reflecting their demeanors like a mirror. Even the Burakumin, in rags, paused from their work to look.
I am Greensnake, sent from Shinomen forest to watch these lands, and learn more about these Crane and their war. I disturbed the people of this town for many weeks before they became accustomed to my presence. I am small and well-formed, and I am told my nature is pleasant. I consider myself a swift student in the ways of Man, and can speak just as one of them. I have earned their trust. But I did not understand what these humans were doing.
I moved to an ancient woman who had hobbled out from behind the canopy of a merchants booth. "Why are you here?"
"We are here to see Daidoji Uji-sama," the old woman said, voice scratchy with age. "We are here to give him honor."
"Why?" I asked, turning to a duelist with a bound arm. "Has he not brought you war?" The grief that I had seen among these people caused by the fighting amongst themselves was heart-wrenching.
"Because he has done what he had to do. He did as his honor required of him. He did as our ancestors demanded." The duelist held his arm with a hand. A Daidoji had given him the wound as he strove to help stop the battle.
"Then you do not support Kuwanan-sama?" I looked at a middle-aged man, with gray in his hair, his armor worn by the years. He had the mon of the Daidoji.
"We support Kuwanan-sama too. Anyone skilled in battling the Lion would know that the Crane armies could fight either the Lion, or Yoritomo's Alliance, but not both. Even with their forces to the South, the Lion would crush us on a divided front. He had to stop Uji."
I was very confused. How could these people, who had been so wounded by these two men, still support both? Surely they must love one, and hate the other, or hate one and love the other. How could they compromise their hearts so?
As I mused, a maiden, fresh-faced and beautiful with flowers in her hair and dressed in wedding robes of red and white, smiled at me. The smile was sad. "We are the Crane, friend Naga. To some, the honor is to obey ones Lord, even when you know that what your Lord commands is wrong, and it goes against the calling of your spirit. And that is a truly important part: we cannot forget our duty to our lord and our clan, ever. Some believe that honor is your clan's, to be sacrificed freely for the good of the clan, without regret. There is truth in this too -- it is arrogance to value your honor over the lives of others, especially in pettiness. But for us, honor is doing what is right and just, holding to the principles of Bushido...all of them. When there is a conflict of Bushido, it is not honorable to excuse ourselves from one precept of Bushido for the sake of following another, or to excuse ourselves from Bushido to save the clan. We do not have such excuses."
Again, I asked her, "But what does that have to do with Uji-sama?"
She said, "In his heart, he had a conflict of honor -- loyalty to his Lord, and loyalty to our ancestors. He is going to Kuwanan, now. He is facing his consequences, not running from them to protect his pride. In his deeds, he has saved us, many times In the Clan Wars, and the great battles with the Shadowlands. He has shown his courage time and again. Now he is showing his honor. We would not be Crane if we did not recognize the difficulty he has faced, or if we did not respect the path he has chosen and the end to which it leads him."
I shook my head, watching the streets line with people, but she had disappeared by the time I turned back to her. A hush fell over the crowd, and I heard the sound of horses. Seven men, some armored, some not, rode down the middle of the silent street. The banners fluttered above them in the wind with serpent and spear. The foremost huu-man's face was veiled, and his eyes were very dark. As he passed, the people of the village from samurai to burakumin bowed deeply before him, and I could sense true respect and reverence in them. All had come, to honor him. Even the Doji paid him homage.
As he passed me, I too bowed.
But I did not understand. I am not a Crane.
I am the Qitosh
Greensnake Watcher