Soul of Darkness, Part 1

By Shawn Carman

Some time ago…

He awoke suddenly, with no memory of where he had been or what had happened to him. His form was wracked with pain from the battle, although he had no notion what battle it had been. All he could remember was the pain. How long had he been here? Where was here? He did not know.

There was only faint light, as if from a lantern covered with a thick cloth. The chamber where he was being held was draped in shadow. He could see forms moving around the edge of what little light there was, but he could not make them out, and he had no strength to rush at them.

“He is aware,” a deep, monotone voice said.

“Yes,” another agreed. “His resistance is considerable. Even impressive.”

“Perhaps.”

He struggled to his feet. “Where am I?” he demanded.

“Our domain,” one of the voices replied. He could not tell them apart. “We have taken you from those who held you. In return, you will serve us.”

“I serve no man!” he snarled. “I am not a pawn!”

“A pawn is all you have ever been, throughout your entire existence,” a voice retorted. “You have served one master after another, wielding your steel in the service of whatever petty despot seized power in your lands.”

“No!” he hissed. “Never! The power has always been mine!”

“In this, perhaps, you finally speak the truth.” There was a smug satisfaction in the voice now. “You could have changed the course of a world, but instead you permitted the darkness into your soul. And it weakened you.”

“I am not weak!” he shouted.

“Oh? Then where are you? Who are you? What brought you to this place?”

He opened his mouth, but no answer came forth. He could not remember. He could not remember anything before this room, these voices. There was nothing in his heart but rage and shame.

“Weakness,” the other voice said. “We can take it from you. We can purge you of the taint of weakness and infirmity. It will make you strong again, powerful. But there will be pain.”

“Are you worthy of this sacred gift? Of our blessing?” the first voice asked.

The warrior stood up. His breath was coming in ragged gasps, and his entire body was wracked with excruciating pain. “I am worthy,” he snarled.

“We shall see.”

The pain came again, so much worse than before.

The Moto Provinces

Moto Akikazu awoke suddenly, half-leaping from the mat where he slept before he even truly came awake. He was drenched in sweat, and he looked about the room wildly, uncertain of where he was or what happening. He drew a deep, calming breath and exhaled slowly. After a moment, he was himself again.

The priest poured a basin of water and wiped away the perspiration that had afflicted him during his rest. He offered his morning prayers and dressed in the ritual robes that marked him as the head priest of the temple he called home. When he was prepared, he stepped out of his corridors and strode through the temple hallways to see that all was well.

The nightmares had begun months ago, and were increasing in both frequency and intensity. It was growing more difficult for Akikazu to rest peacefully, and he had begun to show signs of exhaustion even during the most mundane tasks. Thus far he believed he had concealed his malady from his fellow priests, but it was only a matter of time before his oddities came to light. Akikazu dreaded that day, for his order was not a forgiving one, and his Khan abhorred weakness. The thought weighed heavily upon him as he entered the temple’s main chamber to lead the priests in their morning devotions. The thought disappeared just as quickly, however, when he stepped into the chamber.

There were no priests. The grand audience chamber was empty. At this time of morning, there should be at least a dozen shugenja present, many already chanting their prayers while they awaited their morning blessing. Instead, there was but a single man standing before the altar. Even though his back was turned, a cold feeling of dread settled in Akikazu’s stomach. “Where are the priests?” he asked quietly.

The man at the altar turned. His sharp, severe features were completely expressionless. “I have dismissed them for the morning,” he said. His voice was without emotion, neither reproach nor approval. “I wished to speak with you alone.”

“Of course, my lord,” Akikazu said, bowing deeply before the high priest of the Order of Death.

Moto Tsusung stepped down from the dais and walked across the room, his eyes never leaving Akikazu’s. “Do you know why I have come?” he asked.

“I do not.”

Tsusung’s expression did not waver. “What would be your guess, were you forced to offer one?”

Akikazu was silent for a moment. Finally, nodded. “I would guess, my lord, that you have somehow become aware of the… the illness that afflicts me, and that you have come to remove me from position as head priest of the temple.”

At last, some trace of emotion flickered across Tsusung’s face. The older man smiled ever so slightly. “Your ‘illness’ is not what you imagine,” he said, “and would be easily concealed from me for quite some time yet. Why would you reveal it to me so readily?”

“Lies are for the weak,” Akikazu insisted. “I will not compound my weakness so easily.”

Tsusung’s smile grew broader and more genuine. “You have always been my finest student. None can compare to your devotion, your resolve. You truly bear the blessings of the Lords of Death.”

Akikazu bowed his head, somewhat embarrassed by such strong praise from his normally stern sensei. Tsusung was perhaps the sternest lord he had ever served, save for the Khan himself. Even the Khan, however, paled in comparison to the unwavering, ruthless discipline of the Shi-Tien Yen-Wang, the Lords of Death. The notion that someone like him could carry their favor… it was difficult to imagine. “Thank you, my lord.”

“The Lords of Death have granted me a vision,” Tsusung said, turning back to the altar. “It struck me during my meditations two days ago. I left immediately to come here and speak with you. Since that time, it has come to me twice more, each day at the same time. Each time stronger than before.” He turned back to Akikazu. “You have experienced something similar, have you not?”

“I have,” Akikazu said. “Dreams.”

“Of what?” Tsusung inquired.

“I cannot recall,” Akikazu admitted. “They slip away from me as I wake. Within moments, I can remember nothing save drifting in the darkness. And pain. In the darkness, I am searching for something.”

“Yes,” Tsusung nodded. “I have seen this as well. Do you know what it is you seek, in the dreams?”

“No,” Akikazu said.

“You will,” Tsusung said. His voice indicated nothing but absolute certainty. “When the time comes, you will.”

“When the time comes?” Akikazu asked. “What do you mean, my lord?”

“You must travel south,” Tsusung said. “The Lords demand it, and we cannot ignore their edicts. There is something there that awaits you, and you alone. You must find it and return it to the temple.”

Akikazu shook his head. “I do not understand.”

“It is not necessary that we understand,” Tsusung said, “only that we obey. You must leave at once.”

Akikazu bowed his head. “As you wish.”

The Crab lands, three weeks later

Strangely, despite that he was many miles from home and had virtually no idea what his purpose was now that he had arrived in the Crab lands, Akikazu was feeling better than he had in months. The hardship of travel was no bother to a Unicorn, and the fresh air and brisk temperatures of the Crab mountains had invigorated him the past few days he had spent at Kyuden Hida. More than likely, however, it was that the nightmares had ceased altogether as soon as he left Moto lands. Akikazu found this fact oddly troubling. On the one hand, with their disappearance, he felt confident that he was following the path intended for him. On the other, he had arrived in the Hida provinces and had no notion of how to proceed.

The Crab lands, like the Crab, were rather unforgiving. Far from finding this unpleasant, however, Akikazu found it comforting. He could easily see why the Khan valued the Crab as allies, for truly there were many similarities between the Crab and the Moto. He had been welcomed here, but not pampered, and this was as it should be. A priest of the Shi-Tien Yen-Wang should not suffer a life of excess and idolatry.

Regardless, the Lords of Death had clearly granted him their blessings. Akikazu had arrived at Kyuden Hida a mere three days before the great Hida Kuon himself was scheduled to appear in court and hear the petitions of several guests and ambassadors, many of whom had been waiting months to speak with the Crab Champion. This was a rare event indeed, and Akikazu’s timely arrival must be an omen. Akikazu would not squander their favor.

On the morning that Kuon would hold his courot, Akikazu arose early and spent the morning in the palace’s temple. The Kuni priests had become accustomed to his presence over the past few days, and he was not disturbed. When his prayers were finished, he rose and went to the appointed chamber to await his opportunity.

Akikazu was immediately glad he had chosen his traditional garb. There were many guests, although not so many as he had anticipated, and most were draped in the sort of finery that one might expect at a Clan Champion’s court. In the stark halls of Kyuden Hida, however, they stood out as ostentatious and somewhat obnoxious. Akikazu could not suppress a slight grin at the merciless stares levied at his fellow guests by the assembled Crab. Only Lady Reiha, Kuon’s wife, seemed to share Akikazu’s sense of amusement by the entire spectacle. Several times he caught her looking away from a guest’s petition to conceal a bemused smile.

“An entertaining waste of time, wouldn’t you say?” The speaker was a Dragon samurai, a soldier by the look of him, standing on Akikazu’s left. Despite the man’s words, he did not appear the least bit entertained. His expression was dour and resigned.

“All things have their time,” Akikazu replied. “Even frivolities.”

The Dragon looked at Akikazu strangely. “Odd to hear a Priest of Death speak of frivolity,” he said. “I did not think those of your order appreciated humor.”

“That we do not appreciate it does not mean it does not have its place,” Akikazu said. “How is it that you know of my order?”

“I spent several months serving as a yojimbo to a diplomat in Ryoko Owari,” the Dragon said. “I am familiar with the temple your order maintains there. I recognized the markings of your robes.”

“Few are so observant. I am Moto Akikazu, servant of the Shi-Tien Yen-Wang.”

The Dragon bowed his head respectfully. “I am Mirumoto Taishuu, emissary of Togashi Satsu.”

Akikazu’s eyes widened slightly. “You serve the Dragon Champion and yet you wait with the rest of us? Why was your business not resolved upon your arrival here?”

“The matter is unfortunately complicated,” Taishuu said, his voice tense. “I imagine you will understand shortly.”

Akikazu frowned slightly and began to reply, but it was at that moment that Kuon’s hatamoto called for Taishuu to present his case. With an expression of resignation, the Dragon soldier stepped forward and knelt before the Crab Champion. “Greetings, great Hida Kuon. I bring greetings from the Lord of the Dragon, Togashi Satsu. He offers his good wishes to you and your family.”

“Thank you, Mirumoto Taishuu.” The Crab Champion’s voice was surprisingly smooth. Akikazu was aware of the man’s difficult history, and knew that he had become far more capable and cunning than his massive frame implied. Indeed, the priest could see an almost predatory gleam in Kuon’s eye that was not at all out of place in such a setting. “I assume you have not come all this way merely to bring me your lord’s greetings, welcome though they may be?”

“No, my lord,” Taishuu said, rising. “You have of course heard of the Emperor’s proclamation, which states that the Shadowlands ambassador, if that word may be used, is being kept as a guest of the Scorpion until such time as the Emperor can rule on their petition for Great Clan status.”

Kuon’s visage grew visibly darker. “I am familiar with it.”

“Then you know, my lord, that the Emperor’s consideration of this matter is genuine, and the threat posed by a Shadowlands ambassador within the Empire when we have no such representation among their number, is unacceptable. Though the risk to the Dragon is great, lord Satsu has ordained that it must be a Dragon who travels to the City of the Lost and determines the truth of Daigotsu Soetsu’s claims.”

Kuon said nothing for several minutes, staring intently at Taishuu the entire time. There was not a single word uttered throughout the vast chamber as he did so, creating an eerie silence. Akikazu had never seen such intent scrutiny, and yet Taishuu did not look away. “I have tremendous respect for your lord Satsu,” Kuon finally said. “He is wise in a way that few mortal men will ever truly comprehend, much less achieve. And yet I must wonder if he suffers some strange malady, for the request you have set before me is clearly the product of a fevered, deranged mind.”

“On behalf of my lord, I must disagree,” Taishuu replied. “If Soetsu is lying, then I shall never return, and you shall know that the petition is nothing more than a ruse and a farce. If it is genuine, however, then I shall walk among the Lost unimpeded, and will be able to offer my lord not only a full accounting of Daigotsu’s intentions, but the Crab shall reap the benefit of my time there as well. All shall be made known to you, without exception.”

“There is an option you have overlooked,” Kuon said. “You will succumb to the influence of the Shadowlands, or you will die. Either way, you shall rise again among the Dark Lord’s minions, and in time you will stand against my men upon the Wall. How many men will you kill on that day? How many proud Crab sons will grow up with no father because I permitted you to walk to your doom?”

“I cannot say,” Taishuu answered truthfully. “It would be my hope that none would suffer for my loss, but I know that the Crab are more than willing to die in the service of their Emperor and his empire, and that is what I ask you to do.”

“No,” Kuon said. “The risk is too great, and the chance of success virtually non-existent. No, I will not permit this.”

“My daimyo Mirumoto Rosanjin anticipated your reluctance,” Taishuu said. “He has authorized me to offer you the release of our hostage, Kaiu Sumata. Further, he encourages you to retain custody of our hostage in your keeping, that you might be assured another warrior to defend the Wall, and the assurance that the Dragon cannot initiate hostilities against the Crab without risk of harming our own blood.”

“A generous offer,” Kuon answered. “My answer remains no.”

Taishuu nodded, and bowed his head. “It is said,” he said in a quieter voice, “that there have been hostilities between the Crab and the Scorpion, who have been our allies for longer than most can remember. Rosanjin-sama has further authorized me to assure you that if you permit me passage, no Dragon shall take up arms against the Crab on behalf of the Scorpion for any reason, regardless of the circumstances.”

“Some would perceive that offer as beneficial,” Kuon said in a low voice. “I find that it verges upon a threat.” He leaned forward, an almost palpable aura of menace emanating from his gigantic form now. “Do you mean to suggest that the Dragon will move against the Crab, alongside your poisonous allies, if I fail to grant you passage?”

“That is not my intent at all, my lord,” Taishuu said, wavering ever so slightly under the merciless, baleful glare of the Crab Champion. “I would never do such a thing, nor do I believe Rosanjin-sama would ever desire hostilities with the Crab, regardless of the situation.”

Something stirred deep within Akikazu’s soul. He could almost feel the scrutiny of his Lords, and knew in that single instant that he must intervene, no matter how out of place his interjection might be. “My lord Kuon,” he said in a solemn voice. “May I address the court regarding this matter?

Kuon’s scrutiny turned to Akikazu, and the priest could almost feel the Champion’s presence battering away at him like a physical thing. “Who are you?” he demanded, all pretense gone. “By what right do you interrupt?”

“I am Moto Akikazu, Priest of the Shi-Tien Yen-Wang and emissary of the great Khan, Moto Chagatai.” He bowed very deeply. “I hope to bring this matter to conclusion, serving the Crab and my Khan in the process, if I may.”

“I have no interest in your intervention,” Kuon said darkly.

“Kuon-sama,” Lady Reiha said quietly. “I would hear the Unicorn’s petition, if you would indulge me. The Khan has ever been our staunchest ally.”

Kuon turned to his wife, and his ire finally relented. He nodded. “As you wish.”

Akikazu bowed again, quickly, and stepped forward. “It was my intention to ask for your permission to travel south of the Wall as well, Kuon-sama,” he admitted. “Taishuu-san’s testimony has made it clear to me that you are rightfully reluctant to permit such things.”

“An understatement,” Kuon said, clearly still annoyed.

“And yet, by permitting me to do so,” Akikazu said, “you can ensure that there is no risk from Taishuu-san’s journey.”

“How?” Kuon demanded.

“I am Moto,” Akikazu said. “You know of my family’s traditions. You know that since the fall of the Moto to the Shadowlands centuries ago, we have sworn never to fall to the darkness again. I will die by my own hand in such a manner that I could not rise again rather than risk serving the Dark Lord. And even should that fail for whatever reason, I serve the Lords of Death, to whom undeath is an abomination. By observance of the vows I have taken, I can neither permit another to endure that state, nor will the Lords permit me to succumb to it. So long as I am with Taishuu, he shall not be Lost.”

“How can you be certain?” Kuon asked.

“My lord,” Akikazu said, “because I shall kill him before I allow him to succumb.”

Kuon nodded slightly at this. “What of you?” he asked. “What if you succumb?”

“Then the Lords of Death shall revoke their blessings,” Akikazu said, “and I shall have no power with which to threaten you or those who serve you.”

“It is your plan to travel to the City of the Lost, then?” Kuon asked. “Has his madness spread to you?”

“I do not know the purpose of my journey,” Akikazu admitted. “I merely know that the Lords of Death demand that I travel south, and so long as I do, Taishuu-san shall be the safer for it.”

Kuon sat back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps what you say is true,” he said, “and the Dragon shall be safer in your company. But there is as yet no convincing reason why I should permit you to cross the Wall, regardless of your assurances.”

Akikazu nodded. “That is correct, great Kuon-sama. On that matter, I can only entreat you to do so out of respect for the alliance between the Unicorn and Crab. And while I speak of such alliances,” he gestured to the servants that had accompanied him from the guest quarters where he slept. “My lord Tsusung has scoured the Moto provinces for every scrap of jade we could find, many taken from priceless artifacts from across the Burning Sands. He instructed me to offer these to you in gratitude.” The servants sat down two heavy chests and opened them. Each was filled with all manner of jade trinkets, from tiny figurines to jewelry and other finery.

“Gratitude?” Kuon said. “For what?”

“For permitting the Unicorn the incredible honor of training your son,” Akikazu said. “It has been our great pleasure to host such a fine warrior, and though we know he has been pleased to be home with his family, we miss having such an exemplary warrior among us.”

At that, finally, Kuon’s expression lightened somewhat. It was obvious he was not swayed by Akikazu’s poor flattery, but nevertheless the priest had succeeded in reminding him of exactly how close the bond between their two clans had grown over the years. After a moment’s consideration, the Crab Champion nodded almost imperceptibly and gestured for the chests to be taken away. “Very well then,” he said. “With the endorsement of Moto Akikazu, and only in his company, will Mirumoto Taishuu be permitted to travel south of the Wall. Once you have passed beyond our sight, then the matter is between the two of you to decide how to proceed. IN the meantime, however, my hatamoto will provide Taishuu with the papers authorizing the release of our hostage among the Dragon.” He leaned forward once more. “And of course I will be writing to Rosanjin very soon to discuss the particulars of our… agreement… regarding the Scorpion.”

“Of course, Kuon-sama,” Taishuu said with a bow. “Thank you.”

“Thank your friend Akikazu,” Kuon said. “Both of you leave at dawn.”

“Thank you,” they both said again. Akikazu looked the Dragon with a nod, and the Dragon bowed in return.

The Lords’ will would be done, Akikazu thought. Even in the Shadowlands.