Flowers in Darkness

By Nancy Sauer

Edited by Fred Wan

            Even in autumn the gardens at Kyuden Doji were lovely to look upon.  To the left of the path, stands of bellflowers clustered beneath maples just beginning to blush red.  On the right the banks of the pond were lined with deep banks of jewel-toned chrysanthemums, and the fishing pavilion that it fronted was garlanded in white- and rose-colored morning glories.  Kakita Hideshi stood amongst the beauty and saw none of it.

            Through the air came the sound of voices: Kakita Idzuki’s loud boom and Asahina Beniha’s more bell-like tones.  The fishing pavilion’s privacy and attractive view made it a popular spot for meetings, and the two of them had spent all morning discussing how to pursue Lady Doji’s most recent order.  It was also a popular spot for lovers’ trysts and impromptu sadane matches, and so Hideshi had spent the morning making sure they were not interrupted.

            “The Empress may do as she wishes with the Spider, Tainted or unTainted,” Idzuki bellowed out.  “For a Crane to accept the Taint is to commit treason!”  Beniha murmured something in reply.  Hideshi flinched slightly.  It was true.  He remembered with terrifying clarity the moment of the duel when his body had been taken from him and used to satisfy another’s will.  His lord, his clan, could no longer rely on his obedience, because he could not be sure his actions were his own.  His honor was hollow.

            The sun has not reached its zenith when Idzuki emerged from the pavilion, Beniha following behind him.  Hideshi bowed silently to the magistrate as he passed, and when he arose Beniha stood before him, smiling a smile he knew well.  “Have you been inside the pavilion before?” she asked.  “The view is very pleasant.”

            Hideshi kept his face blank and his tone cool.  “I am sure it is lovely, Beniha-sama.”  Her smile changed ever so slightly in response and she stared at him for a moment.  “You can enjoy it alone,” she said.  “I am going to meditate in the willow garden.” 

            “Your will, my lady,” Hideshi replied, but she had already turned around and begun walking away.  He watched her go, knowing that the time would come when she would realize why he was keeping her at arm’s length.

            Until that moment came, he thought, he could at least try to salve her pride.  Walking the path around the pavilion and further into the garden he found a tangle of rose bushes with a few brave, late blooms upon their canes.  Reaching in to pick one of them he scraped the back of his hand across a thorn.  Terrified, he jerked his hand free and stared at the scratch until the blood flowed and it was outlined with a row of tiny garnet drops. Not black, he thought with relief.  How far gone did one have to be, before the blood turned black?  And how could he find out without drawing attention to himself?

            The smell of the blood stirred him, and he raised the hand to his lips. He was about to lap the blood up when he realized what he was doing, and snatched the hand away in revulsion.  He hurried over to the pond and washed, praying as he did so. 

            Grandfather, what do I do?  Grandfather, what do I do?

* * * * *

            The moonlight threw the wavering shadow of a man against the outside wall, and Beniha paused expectantly in her writing.  The shadow moved on and she realized that it was only one of the guards walking his nightly rounds.  Not Hideshi.

            Putting down the brush she arose and walked to the door that led out to the veranda.  Beniha slid it open partway and looked out at the full moon that silvered the bush clover in the garden below.  Last autumn she and Hideshi had stayed up all night during such a moon, drinking sake and improvising poems.  Where had that time gone?  He had been cool towards her since late winter, and the past few weeks his manner had been positively cold. 

It was her pride that was hurting, Beniha told herself.  Only her pride.  She had known when she started the affair that someday it would end, but she had always imagined that she would be the one who ended it.  Even now she couldn’t believe it, but–Winter Court would make her feel better.  She was unmarried, she was a Crane daimyo, and she was beautiful, and she need never worry about staying alone for long. 

Beniha spent a few more minutes listening to the night wind, then she shook herself lightly and went back to her writing table.  Love ended, but duty was always with her.

* * * * *

The sake was terrible, but Hideshi hadn’t come for the drink.  The Summer Grass was the kind of sake house where the serving girls kept the patron’s bottles filled without comment and everyone studiously ignored what was going on at the tables around them.  It suited his mood perfectly.

  “Well, clearly I am favored by my lord.  I had been hoping to find you in this city, but I didn’t expect to find you here.”

The voice was faintly familiar, but Hideshi stared at the man who knelt down at his table for several long seconds before recognition came. “Arima!” he snarled.

“The same,” the samurai said, turning to signal a serving girl.  “Which is less foul here, the sake or the souchu?” 

“You will need neither as soon as I get my sword,” Hideshi said.

“Oh, so sincere,” Arima said.  “I’ll take what he is drinking,” he told the girl, pointing at Hideshi’s bottle.  When she left he smiled and pointed at the Spider mon over his heart.  “I am the member of a Great Clan now, by the Empress’s decree.  You have no reason to treat me as an enemy.”

Hideshi had no answer for that, and Arima maintained the silence until his sake arrived.  “That was quite the duel,” he said.  “They are talking about it from here to the new gateway.”  He leaned forward slightly, lowering his tone.  “You see what you can do, when you accept the blessing?”

“It is no blessing,” Hideshi said.

Arima shook his head slightly.  “So stubborn!  Foolishness.”

“No Crane could accept such a gift,” Hideshi said.

“So don’t be a Crane,” Arima said.  “No, no,” he said, raising his hands to forestall Hideshi’s response.  “I am sure it is a fine clan.  I honor it: Kanpeki-sama has many Crane ancestors, I am sure.  But if they have no room for someone with the blessing, leave them and swear to the Spider Clan.  It is perfectly honorable: We are a Great Clan and we have been given a duty by the Empress to kill in her name.  How many Lion samurai would kill themselves for such a chance?”

Hideshi stared down at the table for a moment before abruptly getting to his feet and heading towards the door.  He collected his blades without speaking and went out into the night without giving thought to where he was going.

When the madness for motion left him Hideshi found that he was back at the fishing pavilion.  He sank down and watched the play of moonlight on the water, trying to find some measure of calm.  Arima’s words had made a disturbing amount of sense, and yet there was a wrongness in them.  The Taint wasn’t a blessing, it was an enemy that sought to undermine his will and separate him from his family, his school, his ancestors.  The Empress might have some use for those who had surrendered to it, but he had no intention of joining their ranks.

The duel had been a warning, Hideshi thought.  He might have lived for years without realizing how strong his enemy had become, but the duel had forced it to show its hand.  Now Hideshi knew, and delay would only weaken him.  He stared at the lake, a plan taking shape in his mind.  If it succeeded he would die honorably, as a Crane, and at worst it would offer Beniha her best chance to salvage her reputation.  There was nothing more he could do.

As he stood up his hand brushed the Talisman of Gaki-do that Ryoshun had given him.  A test of souls, the Kami had called the Talismans, and Hideshi had been slow to recognize the true nature of his test.  But now he understood, and he would not fail.

* * * * *

            Beniha moved among the crowd in Domotai’s morning court, smiling, gracious, and privately irritated.  Hideshi had not been waiting at the door to her rooms this morning.  Nor had he been waiting for her here in court.  It was one thing to stop showing up in her room at night, but for him to be lax in his duties as her yojimbo was quite another.  Not that she needed protecting here, but people would notice.  There would be talk.

            There was a stir at the doors to the room and Hideshi entered.  He did not look around to find her, as she expected, but instead moved steadily to the front of the court and made a full bow in front of the dais Domotai was seated on.  Beniha felt uneasy from what she read in his bearing, and her face reflexively assumed a courtier’s bland mask. 

            “Lady Doji,” Hideshi said, “my lord Kakita Noritoshi is dead and his son has not yet been confirmed in his lordship of the Kakita family.  I therefore appeal to you, who was my lord’s lord.”

            “And what is the nature of your appeal?” Domotai asked. 

            “My lady, I request permission to seppuku,” Hideshi said.

            At the word the court fell silent.  Beniha wracked her memory, trying to imagine anything Hideshi could have done that could remotely require such absolution.  Domotai’s face went hard, and she leaned forward slightly to stare at the man kneeling before her.  “And why do you request this favor?”

            Hideshi looked up to meet her eyes squarely.  “My lady,” he said, “I am Tainted.”

            The silence vanished as everyone who could took several steps away from Hideshi.  Up on the dais Daidoji Kimpira and several guards had appeared with weapons unsheathed, arranging themselves between him and Domotai.  The monster, Beniha thought numbly.  The monster at Kibi Mura—it had been real all along, but she had been wrong to think it was Hideshi.

“You worthless dog,” Kakita Idzuki said.  He pushed his way through the crowd to stand on its margin.  “How dare you come into this room?  How dare you bring your foulness before the Champion of the Crane?”

            “I have given my reasons, Kakita-sama,” Hideshi said quietly.

            Now the whole court was murmuring, and Beniha realized that her status was in peril: everyone knew about her affair, and though it was ignorable under ordinary circumstances it could doom her now. “Send him to the Spider,” she heard from someone in the crowd, and “ronin” and “execute him.”  For a moment she wished he could have found some more private way of destroying himself, and then in a flash of insight she realized what he was doing.  By revealing himself here Hideshi had give her the opportunity to publically distance herself from him.  If she joined her voice to Idzuki’s in calling for expulsion she would make clear to all that she had only contempt for him, and begin the process of salvaging her power in the courts.  It would doom Hideshi to a ronin’s life, or worse still force him to embrace his corruption as a member of the Spider Clan, but it couldn’t be helped.  One could not be Tainted and a Crane.  It was unthinkable.

            Domotai had not moved, but she was looking at Hideshi with tight-lipped disapproval.  Idzuki was launching into another speech, this one somehow involving the Empress.  Beniha closed her eyes and took a deep cleansing breath.  Then she opened her eyes and walked out of the crowd to stand in the open, a few feet from where Hideshi still kneeled.

            “Domotai-sama,” Beniha said quietly, “I would ask you a question.”

            “Speak,” Domotai said. 

            “Domotai-sama, if a samurai of the Crane had come to you with a report that he had discovered that an enemy had infiltrated your house, you would reward that man, yes?”

            “I—yes, I suppose,” Domotai said.  Her expression had settled into guarded neutrality, and Beniha surmised that the other woman had figured out what she was leading to and was not at all happy about it.

            “This man,” Beniha indicated Hideshi with a flick of her fan, “has come to you with news of such an enemy.  How should you reward him?  Would it not be proper to allow him the honor of killing that enemy?”

            There was a long pause and then Domotai spoke.  “So be it.  Kakita-san, I grant you permission to seppuku.  Go and start your preparations.  Kimpira-san, assign him an escort so that no one interferes.” She looked around the room.  “There will be no more business here today.  Court is dismissed.”

* * * * *

            The summons had come after lunch, as Beniha expected it would.  As she made her way to Domotai’s study she prepared herself for what was likely to be a very difficult conversation.

            She was admitted to the room at once.  Beniha gave Domotai a full formal bow and waited for permission to rise up.  And waited.  And waited.  “You may rise,” Domotai said finally, and Beniha sat up and looked into the thunderous face of her Champion. 

            “What were you thinking of?” Domotai said.  “This is a disaster that even a Hida could understand how to exploit.  The scandal will be immense!”

            “There will be no scandal,” Beniha said.  “I will retire to Shinden Asahina and spend the rest of my life there.”

            “Depriving me of my finest courtier.  Do you think so little of your clan, that you would sacrifice it for your lover?”

            “I did not act to save my lover,” Beniha said.

            This brought Domotai up short.  “What then?”

            “I am a priestess and an Asahina,” Beniha said.  “I will not stand by to see any soul condemned to darkness when I have the power to save it.”

            Domotai paused.  “It is easy to forget that about you,” she said finally.  “I suppose I cannot punish you for acting as your ancestors would wish.”  Another long pause, and in a very different tone she said, “Would you…would you like to speak with him?  I can have Kimpira escort you.”

            Beniha felt her throat tighten suddenly and tears pricked at her eyes.  “Thank you, Domotai-sama, but no.  We have already said all that needs to be said.”

* * * * *

            The sun was not yet risen, but its light was awash in the sky, when Hideshi entered the garden. His steps were firm, mirroring the resolution in his heart.  In the early part of the night he had been tormented by thoughts of escape and what death was about to take away from him, but as the ritual of preparation unfolded Hideshi had surrendered to it, using its ancient words and forms to build a wall against the corruption within him. 

            As he walked further Hideshi took note of the small group gathered at the clearing.  Kakita Idzuki was there, scowling and tapping the hilt of his katana.  Hideshi felt a surge of gratitude towards the man: without him, there would be no one from his family at all to witness his death.  Some distance away stood Beniha, looking pale but composed.  All things are impermanent, the Tao said, strive diligently.  Her life would be filled with hardship from this point on, but that was a matter for her strength, not his.

            Hideshi knelt down on the white cloth next to the stand which held his wakizashi.  He looked around for a moment, taking in the muted beauty of the garden.  Its creators had intended it to be lovely in all lights, and in the predawn glow the form of branch and texture of leaf and petal held sway.  Hideshi frowned slightly—he had composed a death poem during the night, but now he realized it was wholly inadequate.  Picking up the brush he quickly wrote out the words that arose in his mind.  He smiled as he laid down the brush, and then he picked up his wakizashi.

Flowers in darkness—

We can embrace their fragrance

even without light

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Aftermath, Part 1

By Shawn Carman

Edited by Fred Wan

Hida Benjiro entered the tent with the demeanor of a man who had so long ago passed beyond exhausted that he could no longer remember what it meant. He nodded mutely to his sister, Hida Reiha, who waited within, and then dropped onto a low table and rotated his head in a slow circle, listening to the popping of his bones as he did so. The tent was silent for several tense moments, as Benjiro chose to ignore the obvious state of agitation in which Reiha was fuming. Finally, she apparently reached her limit. “You do not even bow to your Champion, now?”

“I could get up to bow, if you wish,” Benjiro said. “However, fair warning, if I bend over very far it is likely that I will fall flat on my face asleep. I thought that might be a bit awkward.”

“Be silent!” Reiha barked. “You were always insolent, even when we were children.”

“You could order me to commit seppuku,” he noted. “Frankly I would be relieved. I could use the rest.”

“How can you just sit there?” she exploded. “How can you pretend nothing has happened? I heard about the Empress’ edict! I know what she has done! You were there when it happened! How could you just allow something like that to take place?”

“Allow it?” Benjiro said, incredulous. “Have you gone mad? How could I have stopped it if I wanted to?”

“If you wanted to?” Reiha threw up her hands. “Are you Crab or aren’t you? Are we simply expected to allow the Spider to live among us now?”

“The Spider are commanded to submit themselves for examination by, among others, the Kuni witch hunters,” Benjiro said. “Those who do not do so are to be executed on sight. Those who do so and who are found to be corrupted are being sent out of the Empire.” He paused for a moment. “You remember the Empire, yes? That realm we are commanded to protect? Personally I think throwing all the Tainted people out of it is a spectacular way to do that.”

“She made a pact with the darkness,” Reiha insisted.

“She did do that, yes,” Benjiro replied. “Something our clan can hardly cast stones regarding, in my opinion. The different here is that the results of the Empress’ bargain is that we now lose all the Tainted Spider in the entire Empire, and that our brave warriors on the Wall can worry about death but not the destruction of their very souls.”

“How many Spider remain?” Reiha demanded. “I know you have an idea.”

Benjiro shrugged. “The intelligence we generals have been given suggests that there are numerous other forces converging to join the survivors here. From what we know, it seems like less than one legion worth of Spider remain. And not all of those are bushi, it also includes some shugenja, courtiers, and the like.”

“Less than a legion? We could wipe them out once and for all!”

Benjiro shrugged again. “Maybe we could, but more than likely they would scatter, and then what? We have perhaps as many as ten thousand Spider hiding throughout the Empire, not to mention the various Destroyers that escaped the battle, and then without the bargain struck by the Empress, dozens or even hundreds of miles in the middle of the Scorpion lands become completely uninhabitable.” He stopped and stared at Reiha frankly. “Does any of that sound like a good idea to you, little sister? Because quite frankly it sounds like the potential extinction of the Crab Clan in the making to me. But then I’m something of a pessimist, aren’t I?”

Reiha shook her head. “This feels… wrong.”

Benjiro sighed. “What would feel more wrong, if you ask me, is allowing the Empire to be wounded beyond its ability to heal when another course action that preserves our way of life was available.” He glanced up at her. “You have been in the Empress’ presence. You know what it’s like. When the Voice issued her edicts… they made perfect sense. It’s simply a matter of perspective.”

“There were far more people who were not there when the edicts were issued than who were there,” Reiha observed darkly.

* * * * *

Hiruma Aki sat in the small tent, numb to the world, and awaited what would come next. Her head still hurt terribly, and she felt periodic waves of nausea that strongly indicated her wound was more severe than she originally thought. The notion that she might die at any moment, however, tended to put such things in perspective.

Everything that had happened to her in the Scorpion temple seemed like a dream. She could scarcely believe any of it had actually happened. The only feeling she could muster, the only thing that felt absolutely, unquestionably real to her, was anger. Anger at herself for following the others in the first place when she had never truly trusted them, and overwhelming rage at the others for allowing themselves to be so crassly manipulated by the Empire’s greatest enemy.

The tent opened suddenly and a wide man with fierce eyes stepped in, his priestly robes smudged with the dust of travel. “Are you Hiruma Akio?” he demanded.

Akio blinked in shock. “Kuni Daigo-sama,” she said breathlessly. She stood at once, swaying slightly, and began to bow.

“Sit down,” Daigo commanded. “I am told your head wound is not insignificant. Will you accept my blessing?”

Akio stared at him blankly. “I… uh… yes, my lord.”

Without another word, Daigo placed his palm against Akio’s forehead, an action that caused an alarmingly sharp wave of pain to course through her head, but it was immediately negated by the strangely warm sensation coursing through Daigo’s hand. When he withdrew it, the pain was utterly gone. “Thank you, my lord.”

“I have heard what happened at the temple,” the Jade Champion said frankly. “If it were up to me, I would have all of those involved save you executed outright. Sadly I doubt their fate will be left to me, but yours at least I can exert some degree of influence.” He glanced at her with a piercing expression. “I trust you have not yet sated your desire to punish the corrupt?”

“No, my lord,” she said instantly. “Never.”

“Very good then.” Daigo handed her a small chop that bore a jade seal. “Welcome to the Jade Legion, Hiruma Akio. We have a large number of gaijin demons on the loose. I trust you do not need to rest straight away.”

She stood at once and clutched her weapon tightly. “I will never rest while there is darkness in the Empire, my lord.”

For the first time, Daigo smiled slightly. “Very well, then. Come with me.”

* * * * *

The Lady of the Crane, Doji Domotai, lovingly stroked her son’s face and kissed his forehead before handing him off to a servant. “Place him down for his afternoon rest, please,” she said quietly, smiling at the sleeping face of her sole heir. Once the two had left the chamber, an instant change came over her; her expression became severe and her brow furrowed. “There are difficult days ahead of us.”

The others assembled in the chamber nodded in silent agreement. Asahina Beniha folded her hands into her sleeves. “What should be addressed first, my lady?”

“I think the most significant matter is the Empress’ exclusion of us from her address concerning how the clans will respond to the conclusion of this war,” Domotai said. “It presents an impression that we are weak.”

“The difficult truth is that we are somewhat weakened at this point, my love,” Doji Kusari observed. “The rapid succession of conflicts would have left our ranks in a depleted state regardless, and that does not even take into consideration the devastating effects of the plague and its aftermath.”

“You know as well as I that there are too many who would exploit this opportunity,” Domotai corrected. “I will not see our clan diminished by petty opportunists.” She grimaced. “I only wish the Empress had said something. Anything, really.”

“She was sparing us the disgrace of failure,” Kusari said quietly. “What could she have given us to do that we could have completed with the resources we have at this point?”

“Every loyal and honorable Crane would gladly risk their well-being for the benefit of the clan,” the Champion reminded them. “I would expect those of us in this room to remember that above all others.”

“What would you suggest, Domotai-sama?” Beniha asked. “We cannot change what has been done. We can only move forward. I presume you have a plan for doing so?”

“You are correct that what has happened cannot be changed,” Domotai said. “If we cannot remind the Empress of our worth directly, then we shall do so indirectly.”

Kusari frowned. “What do you mean?”

“There are a great many in the Empire who have never seen and certainly never heard the Empress,” she explained. “For many of them, accepting these edicts may prove… difficult. Given the relatively recent issues with conspiracies such as the Gozoku, we must ensure that such problems do not recur. The Crane will stand at the foreground of those championing the wisdom of the Empress, and in doing so we remind everyone of the ties between the Crane and the Child of Heaven.”

Kusari looked at Beniha, who nodded slowly. “It seems a sound plan,” he acknowledged. “What consideration should we give to the Otomo? They will certainly be attempting a similar gambit for their own benefit.”

Domotai waved the comment away. “I will put into words what every Crane Champion for centuries has known in their heart: the Otomo have no relevancy. They are redundant and arrogant beyond all measure. They may prove an issue in higher courts, but we have enough talented individuals accustomed to operating at that level that we will have little difficulty, I think. The lower courts will likely lack Otomo representation due to their limited numbers, and there we can gain a great deal of ground rapidly.”

Kusari cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Should we pause to consider the impact of the edicts themselves? They are… significant. What is our reaction?”

The Crane Champion held out her hands. “What does that matter? The Empress has issued her edicts. The matter is concluded. We can either trust in the Divine One and prosper, or we can compound our difficulties by objecting and fall utterly into obscurity, never to recover.” She paused for effect. “I know which one I choose.”

* * * * *

“Do you find any of this… unusual?”

Kakita Hideo looked sidelong at the dainty form of Doji Ayano walking alongside him. “After everything we have seen in the past two years, what do you think could possibly be unusual about this?” He gestured at the garden around them. “This is as normal as one could reasonably expect at this point in our lives.”

“Not this,” Ayano said, waving away the surroundings. “The fact that no one has censured us for… for everything.”

“Who has the authority for something like that?” Hideo asked with a shrug. “We met with the Empress and were acting on her authority. Even if Lady Domotai were so inclined as to pay attention to such a minor nuisance as us, why would she risk her political capital by censuring us when it is possible we were acting on the directive of the Empress. To be frank, it will be far simpler to simply overlook us and let us lapse into obscurity.”

“How comforting,” Ayano said darkly. “I do not particularly wish to fall into obscurity.”

“I see little alternative,” Hideo said. “We are stained. Those who know what happened have too many questions to be comfortable with the events at the temple, and are typically of high enough status that they can ensure we are not in a position to imperil the clan’s standing in the future.”

“And those who are uncertain of the actual events,” Ayano agreed, “cannot be corrected for fear of spreading out disgrace.” She sighed heavily. “It is unfortunate, really. I enjoyed the Imperial Court tremendously.”

Hideo shrugged. “Most never see it at all. Be grateful you had your time in the sun before we were cast to the outer regions. As for myself, I personally no longer have the stomach for the company of others, I think.”

Ayano looked at him with obvious concern. “What does that mean? What do you intend to do?”

Hideo said nothing.

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Goddesses, Part 4

By Shawn Carman

Edited by Fred Wan

The inside of the temple was absolutely still, and had been for almost an hour. Togashi Satsu clenched his fists so tightly that he wondered if he would be able to feel anything when and if he ever unclenched them again. The earth shook periodically from the might of the battle that was going on nearby, a battle nearly unprecedented in the history of the Empire. Somewhere nearby, the mortal forms of the gaijin demon-goddess Kali-ma and the dark lord Fu Leng were locked in a combat to the death, destroying everything around them in the process. And nipping at their heels a vast force of demonic beast-men, the vassals of Kali-ma, were surging toward the temple, eager to taste the blood of an Empress. They were held in check only by the valiant forces of the Shogunate, headed by the Shogun himself, Moto Jin-sahn. Satsu knew how important it was for the Shogun to be defending the Empress, but he could not help but wish that he was still within the temple. He did not doubt his own prowess, but the circumstances in which he found himself were exceptional beyond all measure.

Next to Satsu stood Iweko I, the Divine Empress of Rokugan. Nearby, on the ground, was the unmoving form of Susumu, the Imperial Advisor. Satsu was still unsure if Susumu was still alive, but he thought he had seen movement once or twice since he was struck down. But by far the greatest concern Satsu had was the man in black who sat in the courtyard near them, holding the Empress’ wakizashi.

Daigotsu, Dark Lord of the Shadowlands and unquestioned master of the Spider Clan, had been sitting for nearly an hour, his head cocked slightly to the side as if listening. Finally, he nodded. “All is in readiness,” he said. “I have conducted all the communion I require.” He held the wakizashi before him and regarded it with disdain.

“The Empress is prepared to accept your seppuku,” Satsu said.

Daigotsu looked mildly irritated. “I do not do this for you. You are not worth my life. There is but one who is worth such devotion, and it is for him and him alone I do this.” He held the wakizashi out before him, then looked up at the Empress. “We will speak again soon.”

The Dark Lord of the Shadowlands plunged the blade into his own heart.

* * * * *

Elsewhere in the temple, Hiruma Akio’s eyes fluttered as she awakened and sat up suddenly, groaning and clutching her head as she did so. “Easy,” she heard Yoritomo Saburo telling her. “You need to sit still for a few moments until the worst of it wears off.”

Akio shoved the Mantis aside angrily and struggled to her feet. “I do not need anything from you,” she sneered. “Idiot. All of you! Idiots!”

“Yes,” Akodo Shunori agreed mournfully.

“I do not understand,” Isawa Kyoko said, shaking her head. “How could we have been so foolish? What could have compelled us to behave in such a manner?”

Despite herself, Akio forced an explanation through clenched teeth. “Furumaro. He confessed to me that he had been clouding your minds, compromising your judgment.”

“How could a simple monk do such a thing?” Mirumoto Ichizo wondered.

“He is no monk,” Akio said morosely. “He is Fu Leng.”

There was a moment of absolute silence among the others, but ultimately no one seemed surprised by the truth that permeated them. “What have we done?” Doji Ayano asked quietly.

“No,” Saburo said vehemently. “This is my doing, not yours. I opened the scroll. None of you are to blame for this. I will not see you shamed.”

“You have no say in the matter,” Utaku Kohana observed. “If absolutely nothing else can be said, the truth is that we did not stop you from committing the act, and that in and of itself is an act of damnation.”

“Agreed,” Kakita Hideo said morosely.

Saburo opened his mouth to say something else, but his counterargument was lost. A sudden breeze cut through the corridor, carrying with it the strong scent of blood. A woman was suddenly there, wearing white trimmed with red. Her face was streaked with tears, tears that were an alarming hue of crimson. She stood among them with an aura of power that commanded respect. “Give me the book,” she demanded.

“Iuchi Shahai,” Kohana said quietly.

“I am no Iuchi,” the woman said forcefully. “The book. Now.”

Akio lunged at her, swinging her blade to take her head. Shahai stepped forward and slapped the younger woman across the face with such force that she was thrown to the stone floor with force enough to crack the plates of her armor.

“I will not give you the book,” Isawa Kyoko said defiantly. “We  have been party to far too much blood sorcery for one lifetime already today.”

“Maho?” Shahai said. “Is that what you think this is about? Simple blood sorcery?” She shook her head in disbelief. “Little girl, if I simply wanted to cast a spell, I would slaughter the lot of you and do it regardless. I think you know I am fully capable of such a thing.”

Kyoko looked down and nodded mutely.

“I do not know the depth of your collective stupidity,” Shahai continued, “but there is a battle among gods taking place a short distance away, and the possibility that Kali-ma could emerge victorious is very real. If that happens, your Empress and her Empire die today. Nothing will be able to stop her, certainly not simple blood sorcery.” She gestured toward Kyoko again. “Nothing except perhaps that book.”

“I do not believe you,” Shunori said flatly.

The tear-streaked woman turned on him with a terrible expression of wrath. “Did you misunderstand the part where I can kill you and take it if I want?”

“Then why haven’t you?” Shunori returned.

Shahai’s eyes narrowed. “Why aren’t you afraid?”

“I am a Lion,” he said. “I do not know how.”

She maintained her wrath for a moment, then withdrew somewhat. “I do not know if I can do what must be done alone,” she confessed. “Not after… not after losing…”

“Even if we believe you do not intend to indulge in maho, which is not something that I personally think is the case,” Saburo said, “then what can you possibly hope to accomplish here?”

Shahai pointed to the book. “That is the Tao of Fu Leng. The repository of a god’s wisdom in the mortal realm. Its purpose is to contain the essence of the dark god. It is a vessel for divine power, and I can use it to steal away Kali-ma’s power before she becomes too great a threat. I can make her mortal enough to die.”

“And take her power for yourself in the process,” Kohana snarled. “You profess to eliminate a threat when you only become a greater threat in the process.”

“The only man worthy of my love is dead!” Shahai shouted. “I do not care about power! I only want to punish Kali-ma!” She stopped and covered her eyes with her hands for a moment. “I do not even know if I can do it,” she said. “It was not my destiny, it was his, but now he cannot.” She looked up at them defiantly. “If you doubt me, then stand by my side in the ritual. You will know for certain what is happening, and if you find it not to your liking, you can kill me and end it.”

“Never,” Kohana said, with murmurs of agreement from Ayano, Kurumi, Ichizo, Kyoko and Hideo.

Shunori drew his blade. “I will stand beside you, if only to ensure that the Empire is saved rather than imperiled.”

Saburo nodded. “This is my fault,” he said. “I hold responsibility here. I must do whatever I can to ensure that no further harm comes to the Empire.”

“What you are doing will cost you your soul,” Kyoko warned.

“It seems a small price to pay,” Saburo said.

* * * * *

Moto Jin-sahn rolled through the dirt and came up on his feet, swinging his scimitar with as much force as he could. He disembowled the creature that had knocked him from his horse, scarcely even noticing the deluge of viscera that covered his legs from the knees down. He looked for his horse and saw it a short distance away, rearing on its hind legs and striking out at another of the beasts.

It might as well be on the Mantis islands for all the good it would do him. There were simply too many of the beasts. It seemed that no matter how many they killed, their numbers did not falter, and Jin-sahn was beginning to wonder if somehow their proximity to their blasphemous goddess was reanimating them, or if perhaps they simply sprang into existence in her presence. Neither idea was particularly comforting.

“Shogun!”

Jin-sahn turned to see Shiba Danjuro behead one of the monstrosities with a naginata before pointing to the northern plain. Jin-sahn followed his gesture and his heart sank. Assembling in the north was a large contingent of warriors, a Spider banner fluttering above them. “What should we do, Shogun?” Danjuro asked.

“If they attack us, we die,” Jin-sahn said flatly. “And we kill as many of them as we can in the process.”

“If they attack the demons, what are your orders?” Danjuro pressed.

Jin-sahn hesitated for a moment, uncertain how to respond. “Damn it!” he finally swore. “If they attack the demons, just leave them be!”

“Are you sure?” Danjuro asked.

“Leave them be!” Jin-sahn cursed, and threw himself at another of the creatures.

            Michio, grand master of the Order of the Spider, watched as Fu Leng battled the usurper for dominance, and the legion of horrible beasts that clustered in her wake like weakling mewling for the attention of a stronger creature. “Slaughter everything that is not human,” he commanded. His forces moved to obey his command at once, but he remained.

            He watched the battle between the gods with great interest.

            The two gods had been battling for what seemed like an eternity to those mortals looking upon their conflict, but which had passed in a handful of moments to them. The demon goddess’s multiple arms tore at Fu Leng’s scales with their talons, and the dark god ripped enormous pieces of flesh from Kali-ma with his draconic fangs. The blood of gods stained the earth in a vast circle all around them, twisting and deforming the landscape all around them. The demoness screamed in rage and agony as Fu Leng tore flesh from her ribs, exposing bone.

            Sensing advantage, Fu Leng wound around his enemy, twisting around her torso and constricting, hoping to crush her beneath his coils. The goddess struggled against him, but was seemingly incapable of breaking free. Sensing victory, the dragon coiled tighter and lunged for the throat.

            The goddess laughed.

            Tearing free from the coils, Kali-ma used two hands to seize Fu Leng by the neck and pull his head back. The dark god, weakened from battle and lacking the vast majority of his power, struggled but was unable to break free from the much stronger enemy. She briefly held him aloft, then wrenched his body so that the snap of his back breaking was like the sound of thunder across the plains. Laughing with a sound that made men weep, Kali-ma reached down and tore the throat from her enemy with her fangs.

            Fu Leng thrashed and died, and the universe around him responded. The air grew hazy and distorted as if stretched too thing, and a wave of sickly energy emerged from the site of the god’s death. It coursed over the landscape like a tsunami and rushed toward the men fighting against the goddess’s forces. Moto Jin-sahn and his command staff faced it, unafraid, knowing that it would corrupt their souls utterly and they would be lost forever. They faced it, proud to die in service to the Empress, even if their bodies continued. The wave rushed across them… and nothing happened.

            Jin-sahn looked to the others, then at his own hands. He had known without question what would happen to him, and yet nothing had happened. He felt a moment of confusion, and then his attention was drawn to the temple in the distance. Even at this great distance, he could make out the forms of the Empress and her Voice atop the temple. The Empress held her hands out, radiating a simple light toward the battlefield. Even from here, it felt warm and comforting. With a shout, Jin-sahn and his men redoubled their efforts, rejoicing in the blessings of their Empress.

            Her joy at victory rapidly fading, Kali-ma shook the corpse of her enemy, as if trying to wring something from it. Sensing something amiss, the goddess screamed in absolute rage. The sound rolled across the plains like a thundercloud. Among the samurai fighting against Kali-ma’s forces, some fell dead where they stood from the sound of it.

* * * * *

“It’s working!” Shahai shouted. It was half-laughter and half-sob, with more of the crimson tears running down her face. “The vessel can contain her power!”

Hideo looked at the others. “Kyoko?”

“I can sense great power flowing, yes,” the priestess said quietly. “It is dark… so terrible. It does not appear to be going to Shahai, however. I believe… I think she told the truth. The book is the target of the energy, not her.”

“I do not find that in any way comforting,” Kurumi whispered.

“Suffer, slattern!” Shahai shouted at their unseen enemy. “I will kill you for what you have taken from me!”

Shunori, standing near Shahai, wavered slightly and fell to one knee. “I… I feel… weak…”

Saburo, pale and unsteady, nodded. “When will the ritual be complete?”

Shahai grimaced. “The vessel can contain no more power… not unless…” she smiled slightly. “Well, sacrifices must be made, must they not?”

“What?” Kohana demanded.

Shahai laughed again, and Shunori and Saburo both groaned and fell to the ground, their flesh gray and desiccated. “What is it your commander said? A small price to pay? Indeed it was!” She laughed again, intoxicated with the act of channeling the power. “All will be as he promised! All will be…”

The statement was cut off sharply with a resounding crunch and a brief spray of blood. Shahai fell to the ground, her skull shattered completely. Hiruma Akio swayed on her feet, her bloodied weapon held at the ready. “Never… never suffer the darkness to live,” she said, wiping her own blood from the wound on her brow.

Kohana moved to steady Akio while Ichizo inspected the two fallen samurai. His face grim, he shook his head slowly. “They died to stop Kali-ma.”

“Assuming this had any effect whatsoever,” Hideo observed bitterly.

“And what of that?” Kurumi demanded, pointing to the Tao of Fu Leng where it rested on the ground.

“If anyone touches it,” Akio said, “they die.”

* * * * *

Kali-ma’s howl of rage continued to echo over the land, lasting so long that it seemed as though it might endure forever. Just as it finally began to recede, the earth shook again, and with far more force than it ever had as a result of the battle with the gods. Try as they might, the combatants around the demon goddess were unable to keep their footing. Man and beast alike were thrown to the ground as the earth rolled and pitched like a ship on the turbulent sea. Then, as they watched, the ground beneath the demon’s feet began to fall away, tumbling out of sight and into the depths of the world.

Even as the earth shattered, the air above the battleground tore open. It seemed as though the universe itself was bleeding, and somewhere in the distance it sounded as if a chorus of demons were howling in a combination of ecstasy and agony. Kali-ma howled again, but the sound was lost in the roaring that accompanied the inexplicable transformation the land seemed to be experiencing.

Emerging at once from the ground and from the air, something huge and black manifested. Its shape was like that of a phantom, with a white horned face that was both terrible and beautiful. One massive, taloned hand reached down to caress the forever still form of the dragon Fu Leng, and everyone within twenty miles heard a terrible whisper in the back of their mind, a whisper filled with such sorrow that many were moved to tears despite their horror at what was happening.

Brother.

Energy coursed from the dragon’s corpse into the massive phantom, increasing the sense of presence and power that permeated the entire region. Kali-ma shouted her rage, but her presence seemed increasingly diminished with each passing moment, as if her power were being stolen away by something no one could see. She lashed out at the phantom, but her attacks seemed to make no difference to the manifestation whatsoever.

The entity held aloft one of its taloned hands and regarded the goddess with absolute, unwavering contempt. This is my Empire, the voice spoke again in tones that could be heard for miles and which caused nosebleeds and headaches for days after it was heard. I will burn the world to protect it.

The ascended avatar of darkness plunged his claws into the chest of the demon goddess Kali-ma, and tore her still-beating heart from her body.

Among the decimated remnants of the Spider ranks, one samurai stepped forward. His markings identified him as a junior officer, but he ripped his helmet away and threw it to the ground. Daigotsu Tenbatsu, gunso of the Spider legions, dropped to the ground as tears flowed freely from his eyes and he tore his shirt open to reveal his bare chest. “Daigotsu-sama,” he sobbed. “My life for you!”

As one, the remaining Spider bent knee.

* * * * *

“What has happened here?” Togashi Satsu demanded, his voice thick with authority and disapproval.

Ichizo rose from where he knelt by his fallen comrades. Kyoko continued her prayers for their souls. “It is a story of some length, Satsu-sama,” the Dragon warrior offered. He glanced around. “If I may be so bold, my lord, where is the Empress?”

“Safe in the protection of her Guard,” Satsu replied. He looked at the withered forms of Shunori and Saburo, and at the sickeningly damaged corpse of Shahai. “The Empress commanded me to find you here. She indicated your role had not yet been played to completion.” He glanced around. “For your sake, I would hope it has. I do not think you could endure much more than what has already happened. Tell me, and briefly.”

“The monk traveling with us was apparently the mortal form of Fu Leng in disguise,” Doji Ayano said. “Those words sound preposterous even to my ears, yet I know them to be true. He… he deceived us. By his own words he clouded our minds and manipulated us into opening the Black Scroll so that he could feast on the energy contained within.”

“The fault is mine,” Ichizo said at once. “I advocated the idea. Whether it was Furumaro’s trickery or not, the responsibility is mine.”

“You opened the scroll, then?” Satsu asked.

“No,” Kurumi said. “That was Saburo. He would not permit anyone else to do it.”

Satsu looked down at the dead Mantis. “He has paid the price for his actions, I see. Still, to accept responsibility for such a thing to spare others… it would be no mean feat.”

“Shahai appeared,” Kohana said, gesturing to the other corpse. “She conducted some manner of ritual with the Tao of Fu Leng. It appears to have weakened Kali-ma. Can she be defeated by the Shogun’s forces, Satsu-sama? Did it work?”

Satsu shook his head. “From what I have seen, she has already been defeated, but not by the forces of the Shogun.” He held his hand out, palm down, toward the Tao. “Yet I feel that same power radiating from this. I believe it does carry her essence, as you said.”

“We are all prepared to accept the consequences of our actions,” Akio said firmly.

Satsu’s gaze did not waver from the Tao. “Your actions may have saved us. The result remains to be seen. That will be for the Empress to judge.” Akio nodded in response, and Satsu began to say something else, a recrimination concerning the folly of youth, but the words died in his throat as his eyes widened in shock.

Behind the young samurai, the form of Susumu appeared from the courtyard. His robes were still dirty from having lain on the ground, but all signs of the wounds he had received earlier were gone. His flesh was almost entirely white, flawless in every respect. His hair was arrayed as if it had been attended by the Empress’ personal handmaidens, but his eyes were as black as his tresses. He approached seemingly without moving his feet. “The Tao, please.”

Satsu was on him in an instant. He delivered a whirlwind kick that struck the Advisor in the jaw with enough force to shatter it, then followed with a series of devastating palm strikes to his abdomen. Any normal man would have had his innards ruined and perished instantly, but Susumu seemed to take absolutely no notice of the attack. “I am beyond injury,” he said, his voice strangely hollow and echoed. He held out his hand and the Tao lifted from the ground and drifted toward him like a leaf in a stream.

“No!” Akio shouted, and threw herself onto the tome. All her weight seemed to mean nothing, and the book continued its path despite her struggling to wrest it to the ground. When the book finally reached Susumu, he gently lifted Akio into the air as if she were a child and took the book in his hands. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, and a wave of nausea passed over the group. Each of them struggled to maintain their footing, and most were forced to place their hands over their mouths in an attempt not to become violently sick. And just like that, the sensation was gone. All sense of power and majesty was gone, and the book was simply that again… a book.

“It is done,” Susumu said. “I must speak with the Empress.”

* * * * *

The expression of the Divine Empress Iweko I, Child of the Heavens, did not waver as Satsu returned to her side, followed by the enigmatic presence that had previously been Daigotsu Susumu. “Empress of Rokugan,” the former Advisor said, his tone booming, “I would hold parlay with you.”

“The Empress speaks not to those who are unknown to her,” Satsu answered immediately. “You are no longer Susumu. Speak your name or begone from her presence.”

“I am Susumu,” the other man answered, “but more than before. I am the vassal of the Dark Lord, the supreme power of Jigoku, master of the Realm of Evil. I am the Voice of Daigotsu, just as you are the Voice of the Empress, for who could be worthy to hear the words of the true Dark Lord?”

“The actions of the Realm of Evil are anathema to the Celestial Heavens,” Satsu said, “and thus are not known to the Empress. She has no means of verifying that which you say, and would hear your explanation.”

“My lord Daigotsu’s soul was long ago consigned to Jigoku,” Susumu answered. “He embraced this fate, rather than flee from it as so many weaker, unworthy men have done. His lord Fu Leng, brother of his flesh, knew that defeating the demon goddess Kali-ma could not be done by physical might alone, and so as my lord Daigotsu passed across the veil to the Realm of Evil, the Fallen Brother ceded all power to his most loyal, most deserving follower. As it should be.”

“And from Jigoku, Daigotsu usurped from Kali-ma what had been once usurped from Fu Leng?”

“That, and so much more.” Susumu’s smile was terrible. “As the vassal of the Heavens, you are bound by the will of Tengoku. Daigotsu-sama would never endure such a subjugation. As you are bound by the Heavens, so now is the Realm of Evil bound by the will of Daigotsu. He no longer serves it.” Susumu paused and licked his lips as if remembering something utterly delicious. “It serves him!”

“The ascendance of a mortal to power in the Realm of Evil does not concern the Empress of Rokugan,” Satsu said.

“Then you are a fool!” Susumu barked. “The Heavens have thrown out the influence of mortals, and so the greatest mortal of all has turned and seized the Realm of Evil! Better to rule in hell than reign in the Heavens!” He chuckled darkly. “My lord Daigotsu will now hear the terms of the previous arrangement.”

“The terms remain.”

“Unacceptable,” the Voice of Daigotsu replied.

“Recant your agreement with the Empress if you wish,” Satsu countered. “The beasts of Kali-ma have fled. The Shogunate can eradicate the whole of your remaining forces in one fell swoop, if you have no regard for the terms of your agreement. All will be killed on sight forever, and your son will gain nothing.”

“All Spider will be pardoned,” the Voice said, “and their status shall be that of a Great Clan, not a Minor Clan.”

“The Empress refuses,” Satsu said at once.

Again, Susumu laughed. “There is more to be offered, if the price can be paid,” he hinted.

Satsu glanced at the Empress and frowned. “Speak, then.”

“The Master of Jigoku can withhold the blessings of his realm from mortal souls,” Susumu said. “Agree to his terms, and my lord Daigotsu shall permit no human within the service of the Empress to suffer the blight you call the Shadowlands Taint unless they willingly accept his blessings.”

“There are scarcely enough Spider remaining to comprise a Minor Clan, much less prove worthy of the title of a Great Clan.”

Susumu scoffed. “Was such true of the Mantis when they ascended? Hardly.”

There was a moment of silence from the Empress and her Voice. “The people of Rokugan would be spared the Taint forever, then.”

“So long as our agreement stands,” Susumu confirmed.

Another silence followed. “For the sake of her people, and for an end to war, the Empress agrees to your terms. Exactly your terms, and nothing more.” Satsu seemed so weary that he might collapse. “Her interpretation thereof is above question, however.”

Susumu’s smile widened. “The Dark Lord has no fear of your interpretations,” he said. “Be warned that those born of Jigoku who possess free will, the oni, may reject the Dark Lord’s commands. If that is the case, they will flee to the mortal realm to escape his wrath.”

“They shall be dealt with,” Satsu said. “Seal the portal to the Realm of Evil that has just been opened.”

“The death of a god is a powerful thing,” Susumu observed. “It is not within my lord’s power to do such a thing, assuming he even wished it. No, I fear your Empire must endure a second festering pit now, one born in its heartland. But surely your honor will protect you from the worst of its influence, yes?” The former Advisor laughed. “This vessel has served me well! Susumu and Shahai, both valued servants, shall descend to the pits of evil and serve my lord as the first of his Dark Fortunes. Susumu, Dark Fortune of Deception, and Shahai, Dark Fortune of Blood. Inform your priesthood of these developments as you like. Perhaps more of your people than you imagine will embrace the kiss of Jigoku.”

“The faith of the Empress in her people is unwavering,” Satsu said.

“We shall see if such faith is misplaced,” Susumu said, and then his form fell to the ground, dead and cold.

* * * * *

Hours later, the surviving forces of the Shogunate were assembled around the temple even as more and more loyalist forces arrived with each passing moment, driven by instinct to converge upon the temple. The forces of the Spider, what pitiful few remained, stood apart, closely guarded but not disarmed. The nearby wailing of the portal to Jigoku was silenced momentarily, but none had doubts that it would resume, and quickly. For the moment, however, a relative calm had descended upon the area as the Empress stood on the temple steps, regarding her assembled followers with great love and kindness.

“The Destroyer is dead!” Togashi Satsu shouted out, to great cheers from the exhausted forces assembled around them. “She has left her mark upon our Empire forever, however, and many of her forces still wander our lands, deprived of her guidance and leadership. These shall be dangerous days, but know that the faith of the Empress in her loyal samurai is absolute!”

The assembled warriors cheered again, but the generals who stood at the bottom of the steps seemed too weary to join in. The simply bowed before their Empress and remained stoic.

            “Much has happened,” Satsu continued. “Much has changed, and changed forever. The Empire we once knew is no more, and a new Empire must be forged from it… a stronger, more noble Rokugan than has ever existed throughout history. The gratitude that the Empress holds for her generals in this conflict is without measure, but their duties have not yet been completed. Akodo Shigetoshi and Utaku Yu-Pan, it shall fall to you and your clans to assist the Shogun of the Empire in driving the last remnants of the Destroyer Horde from our land, or in crushing them beneath your boots. Their stain must not remain upon this most sacred land.”

            The Lion Champion and the two Unicorn all bowed deeply. “I will be greatly honored to have such fine warriors fighting at my side,” the Shogun said.

            “Even as our enemies are crushed and driven before us, the retaking of the lands lost shall be a grave undertaking,” Satsu said. “It is the wish of the Empress that her loyal vassals among the Phoenix oversee the purification of our lands, and that her brave, proud servants among the Crab and Scorpion see to it that the land is rebuilt, and that this new, deadly threat in the Scorpion heartland is as well defended against as the Shadowlands to the south.”

            Hida Benjiro and Bayushi Miyako both bowed. “Your will, Empress.”

            Satsu grimaced. “For their role in the defense of the Empire, and for the ongoing safety and security of the souls of her people… the Empress confers Great Clan status to the members of the formerly outlawed Spider Clan. All members are granted full amnesty, and holdings for the Spider are to be allowed to be constructed in the unaligned lands, pending approval by the Imperial families.”

            A murmur of confusion rippled through the assembled samurai, but none spoke out against the Empress.

            “Those among the Spider who subject themselves to inspection by forces from the Jade Champion, the Asako Inquisitors, the Kuni family, or the Kuroiban, will be permitted to remain within the borders of the Empire of Rokugan,” Satsu continued. “Those who refuse, or who are determined to possess the Shadowlands Taint upon their souls, will be placed under the supervision of the Empress’ former clan, the Dragon. These forces will be sent out of the Empire’s borders to join the Mantis in the distant realm once known as the Ivory Kingdoms, where they…”

            Satsu’s voice trailed off as the Empress laid a hand on his arm. He blinked in surprise, then bowed sharply and took a step backward. The Empress stepped forward to stand on the very edge of the steps. Her gaze fell upon the assembled forces of the Spider, some of whom flinched beneath the intensity of her scrutiny. Greatly diminished in number, they stood and waited for her judgment. She seemed to examine them for several minutes, and then the Empress spoke.

            “Go forth,” she commanded the Spider in strong, pure tones, “and conquer in my name.”

Next week, the aftermath of Celestial Edition and the path to Emperor Edition begins!

Goddesses, Part 2

By Shawn Carman

One of the accursed tiger-men demons was standing over the Hiruma scout, slavering in anticipation of the kill that was only seconds away. The scout showed no fear. The bow he had been wielding lay to the side, its string broken, and he had drawn a long knife from his belt, unable to bring any longer weapon to bear. He would make his killer suffer for the privilege of ending his life, that much was obvious. But of course it would never come to that.

Hida Benjiro, slathered in gore and lost to the red rage of combat, leapt from atop a small boulder and brought his tetsubo down with the force of a bolt of lightning. The tiger demon saw him at the last moment and turned to tear him to shreds, but it was far too late for such a thing. Benjiro’s first and only strike shattered the demon’s jaw, then tore it away from its body with a wretched tearing sound and a spray of ichor. He followed it up with a savage kick to the thing’s midsection, feeling the snap of ribs and relishing the sensation even as it fell away, broken and dying. “On your feet!” he shouted to the scout. “We’ve work to do! Die later!”

“Hai, commander!” the scout shouted, drawing his katana. “You might remind Seison as well!”

Benjiro turned to see Kaiu Seison high above the ground, clutched in the talons of one of the demons. The pressure being exerted on the engineer was clearly enormous, as plates from his layered armor were being shed like leaves in the autumn. The demon screamed in rage as it lunged in again and again to bite the Crab, but each time was driven away by a massive strike from the Kaiu’s warhammer. “Seison!” Benjiro shouted, rushing the creature’s flank and smashing its ribs with one swipe of his tetsubo. “Stop being an engineer and fight!”

Seison dropped from the creature’s claws, staggering on the ground and gasping for breath. “Their bones must be… very strong. Could build… impressive tower out of them…” He then smirked. “Only kidding, my lord.”

“There might be a better time later,” Benjiro hissed, killing the beast he had crippled.

“You assume there will be a later,” Seison countered. “I have never been an optimist.”

Benjiro scarcely heard him. At the base of the plateau on which they were fighting was massed an enormous number of the demons, seemingly just waiting. As he watched them, they began to part ways from the rear, as if allowing something to pass unimpeded as it approached the plateau. He reached down to confirm the presence of the weapon in his obi. “Optimism is a poor use of our time,” he agreed.

* * * * *

The siege at Kyuden Ashinagabachi had become a deadlocked siege, with a massive army of Destroyers held at the outskirts of the castle village. Much of the days were quiet, punctuated with outbreaks of intense violence and fear as the demons attempted to penetrate the Mantis defenses and lay waste to the castle beyond. Thousands of samurai were barracked in the lands around the castle, fighting day and night as the Destroyers made their intermittent assaults. The Tsuruchi, accustomed to seclusion in the mountains, had laid aside a massive supply of food and water to ensure that they could not be trapped in their estate, but with the sheer number of forces there to assist in the defense, the stores were already beginning to run low. In a matter of weeks, it was whispered, there would be nothing to eat or drink. The more fatalistic among them scoffed, certain that the war would be concluded long before that, one way or another.

Suzume Sahara sat on a battered wooden box behind a massive, chaotic wall of earth that had been hastily constructed by peasants only a short time before the siege began. The Destroyers only rarely made use of ranged fire, but Sahara was grateful for the wall just the same. There was no sense in tempting fate, after all.

The thought made Sahara smile. Tempting fate was almost literally his duty on behalf of the Spider. He had been a member in good standing of the Sparrow Clan for what seemed like a long time, having sworn his oath of fealty at the Spider lord’s request. Ever since he had struggled greatly to balance both of his oaths, and to fulfill his obligations to both the Spider and the Sparrow. He only rarely felt that he had accomplished this.

“Sahara!”

The young duelist turned to see a familiar face running in his direction. Shiba Ikuko was a warrior of incredible focus that he had gotten to know rather well over the past few weeks. “The gunso says that the Mantis are preparing one of their tricks,” she said, frowning slightly. Sahara knew that many of the Mantis Clan’s unconventional uses of magic in battle made the more traditional Phoenix uncomfortable. “We are to be ready to exploit the advantage.”

Sahara nodded. “What is our objective? There is little out there in the way of defenses, so I do not think we can hold it even if we take it.”

“Some of my people are moving up to erect another wall, if we can,” Ikuko said. “If possible, we want to retake at least a few hundred feet. That will let us search for any survivors from the earlier actions today.”

“At the very least we can retrieve their blades,” Sahara said. He was enormously grateful to be able to do even that much, although he strongly suspected there would be no survivors to be rescued. The fighting in the afternoon had been gruesome indeed. He looked at Ikuko and smiled. “I will stand beside you if you will have me, Shiba-sama.”

Ikuko returned his smile. “There are few others in this rabble I would have, Sahara!” She then began scanning Kyuden Ashinagabachi, and her smile faded to a look of consternation. “There,” she said, pointing to one of the highest towers.

Sahara followed her gesture and watched as the tiny, distant form of a priestess hurled herself from the tower into the void. She did not fall, however. Sahara knew that it must be Moshi Awako, the regent for the Moshi family and the orchestrator of most of the battle’s magical defenses. From this distance she seemed to drift among the clouds, winding her way away from the castle to hover far, far above the battlefield. And then the lightning began.

 “Fortunes!” Ikuko swore, and looked away. The sky was filled with brilliance so majestic that it was difficult to look at. Sahara looked at it, however. He could not look away. The flashes of light seemed to take shape, and form the image of a massive, coiling dragon amid the clouds. The lighting sprang from it and scoured the earth clean in the region they were preparing to retake, but he could only look at the dragon.

As he watched, the dragon turned, and seemed to look directly at him. Are you worthy? a voice came unbidden in his mind, filling every corner of his soul. Are you worthy, little Spider?

“Sahara, now!” Ikuko shouted. She drew her blade and scrambled over the wall, with Sahara running close behind. His sword arm worked without thought, operating on instinct alone, but his mind was filled with the magnitude of the question.

Was he worthy?

* * * * *

Benjiro had lost count of how many of the tiger demons he had killed when he was suddenly struck by something with such incredible force that all the air was driven from his lungs in an instant, and he found himself somersaulting through the air out of control. It was fortunate that he landed in the dirt and not on the rocks, although fortunate was not how he felt when he came crashing down to the ground in an undignified heap, gasping for breath and struggling to get his bearings.

“I recognized your stench from quite some distance,” a baleful, familiar voice said. Benjiro had heard it in his nightmares for months. “I wondered briefly if you were attempting to lead me into some sort of trap, but no… you are simply stupid enough to be cut off from your allies and left at my mercy.”

Benjiro managed to get to his feet, spitting blood into the dirt. “Can’t it be both?”

“You sicken me,” the rakshasa said, looking at him with obvious contempt. The shape-shifter had assumed its tiger-headed form, eerily similar to the much larger creatures scattered across the plateau, each holding one of Benjiro’s men immobilized or pinned to the ground. “You and your men reek even more than the rest of your kind. You are foul, brutish creatures unfit for anything other than combat, at which you are woefully inadequate.”

“Fortunes, if I had known you would talk me to death I’d have just killed myself when I got up this morning,” Benjiro snarled. He drew a short knife of ivory from his belt. “If you want to kill me, then come do it like a man, you coward.”

“Like a man?” the beast sneered. “Coward? You prove yourself a fool with every word. Do you think you injured me last time? There are scars but they will heal. I have no need to fear you.” The demon held up its claws and roared. “I will enjoy killing you, though. No mortal dares touch me!”

Benjiro tossed the knife back and forth between his hands. “I’ll do more than that.” He beckoned the demon forward. “Come on, then.”

The rakshasa roared and lunged forward. Benjiro leapt to the side the second he saw movement, but even that was not quite enough. He felt the beast’s claws tear at the greaves, ripping away the armor at his left shin. At the same time he stabbed out with the short knife, which felt hopelessly small in his hand. He felt it tear something, but it was cloth, not flesh. He rolled the second he struck the ground. It was almost not enough, as there was a deep booming sound and he was showered with earth and rock shards as the thing attempted to crush him beneath its feet. He struck out again with the knife and this time was rewarded with a howl of mixed fury and pain.

“Insect!” the rakshasa roared. “Rodent!” Benjiro barely managed to deflect a blow from the thing that tore apart the plates of his armor. It tore the flesh of his arm next, and he stabbed it through its upper arm, drawing another howl of agony. He threw himself backwards, but not before it struck him with a backhand that, for a moment, he feared had snapped his back like a twig. He rolled in the dirt and sputtered, spitting blood and soil out of his mouth onto the ground. He could still feel the knife in his hand but his fingers were numb and he could not command the arm to rise. “Not… not finished… with you…” he mumbled.

“Please,” the rakshasa said, his voice dripping with contempt. “If this were merely a physical confrontation, perhaps you might keep pace with me for a time, but you have no concept of the power at my command. You are merely mortal, and I… I am rakshasa!” It scooped Benjiro up with one hand around his throat, its other hand holding the wrist of the hand holding the knife. It bared its fangs. “Do you have any final words, vermin?”

“When you… got here…” Benjiro rasped, barely able to get air from his lungs, “…you thought… trap…”

“A laughable overestimation,” the demon spat.

Benjiro’s increasingly white face twisted into a smile. “You… were right…”

From the sides of the plateau, a cloud of arrows suddenly took to the air. They rained down on the beasts waiting at the base, piercing them in a hundred places and staining the ground with their blood. They spilled from the air down upon the tiger-beasts on the plateau, sparing the Crab warriors who darted beneath their enemies to avoid the onslaught. And a smaller number, their tips gleaming white in the sunlight, bore down upon the rakshasa, slicing his flesh and eliciting a feral scream of pain. “What is this?” it roared.

Benjiro ripped his hand free of the thing’s grip and kicked it in the stomach with both feet, knocking himself free. He was up in an instant and stabbed the beast in the stomach, causing yet another scream of pain. “You cannot kill me!” it shouted, throwing Benjiro away. “You have no chance of ending me! I am eternal! You cannot kill me!”

“I do not have to kill you,” Benjiro said. “I only need to delay you long enough.”

At his words, a small unit of Unicorn came riding up the opposite side of the plateau at full speed, their steeds kicking an enormous cloud of dust up into the sky. They were warriors and priests, but the man riding at the front was remarkable from his fellows even at a distance for the iron mask that covered his face.

“Doomseeker!” the rakshasa screamed, and this time it was not pain or outrage in its voice, but fear. It turned to flee but Benjiro was on it in an instant, tackling it by the legs and stabbing it repeatedly in the legs and back with his now-bloodied knife.

“Your part in this is done, lord Benjiro, and done well,” Iuchi Katamari said, his voice booming. “Stand aside, and I will finish this unclean beast once and for all, as my order demands.”

Benjiro kicked the demon in the face and leapt away, for its final lashing claw strikes would surely have killed him. The demon writhed on the ground, thrashing in agony as the Doomseeker’s rituals bound it and began stripping its immortal essence from its flesh. “Do you remember?” Benjiro demanded. “Do you remember what I promised you? I will be there when you die, I said.” Benjiro sat down roughly on a rock and buried his dagger into the earth. He wiped blood from his face and watched the beast impassively. “I hope it takes a long time.”

The rakshasa’s screams carried all across the plains for many hours.

* * * * *

Furumaro returned to the young samurai with a smile. “I have spoken to the abbot,” he said. “The brothers here are quite busy, as you can imagine. They are content for us to go about our affairs as long as we do not interfere with their rituals or preparations.”

“Preparations?” Akodo Shunori asked. “What preparations might there be?”

“It was their word, Akodo-sama, not mine,” Furumaro said with a short bow. “However I imagine their proximity to the current battle lines have made them somewhat paranoid about evacuation.”

“I can certainly understand that,” Doji Ayano said. She looked around with a sigh. “I adore temples. So serene and peaceful. This is a good place to rest until we determine what to do.”

“Ugh,” Bayushi Kurumu returned. “Serene? Boring, perhaps.”

“Did you inquire as to whether or not the Empress had been in this area?” Shunori asked.

“I did not.” Furumaro seemed surprised. “I assume that it is not general knowledge she is traveling in the region. Would that not place her at greater risk? But no, they did not mention it, and I feel confident that someone would have.”

Isawa Kyoko nodded. “If the Empress had been here, this temple would be considered sacrosanct. Even with the war, there would be faithful adherents all about the temple.” She shook her head. “The Empress has not been here.”

Kurumi fanned herself lightly. “We have searched every major road and all major stops in this region,” she said. “I assure you, the Empress is not in this province. Her path and ours clearly diverged at some point. She could be anywhere in the Scorpion lands, but I feel confident she is not nearby.”

“It is possible she is traveling covertly, I suppose,” Yoritomo Saburo offered.

“Why would the Empress travel covertly?” Shunori demanded. “That makes even less sense than her being in this region in the first place!”

“Be cautious,” Saburo warned. “I would hate for you to say something in haste that would make you kill yourself later.”

Shunori scowled, but did not reply. “The Empress’ business in this region must surely be connected in some way to our business in the Fingers of Bone,” Kurumi pressed on. “I cannot believe that the two are unrelated.”

“I agree,” Kyoko said. “The Empress possesses insight beyond our ken, and I think we are witnessing destiny unfold before us.”

“If we are in some way involved in her arrival in this region,” Shunori said darkly, “then each and every one of us is responsible in some small way for placing the Empress in harm’s way.”

The comment silenced them all for a moment. Saburo scratched his chin. “That is quite sobering.”

“We have to do something,” Shunori insisted. “We have to do something to protect the Empress!”

“We do not even know where she is,” Kurumi insisted. “What exactly would you propose we do?”

“It is a difficult situation in which you find yourselves,” Furumaro said with a sage nod. “The Empress is somewhere relatively nearby, but you know not where. The Destroyers are likewise nearby, and you fear that they will find your Empress.” He shrugged. “Unless you can find her, or somehow distract the Destroyers from her presence, I fear you will remain in a difficult situation.”

“We cannot find her!” Ayano said, clearly distressed. “Kurumi knows this area as well as anyone, and she could not help us. What else can we do?”

“We certainly cannot attract the attention of the Destroyers,” Saburo said.

“Can we not?” The others looked at Mirumoto Ichizo, surprised. The practical young warrior shrugged. “I can think of something we could do.”

“Ahh,” Furumaro said with a chuckle. “You Mirumoto! Always thinking in unusual ways!”

“What are you talking about?” Shunori demanded.

“Oh,” Kyoso said. “Oh, no! No, no, no! We mustn’t!”

“All must make choices,” Furumaro advised. “I am certain you will all reach the correct one, regardless of the circumstances for either.”

“What are you talking about?” Shunori repeated, his voice louder.

“The scroll,” Kyoko said. “He means we can open the scroll!”

There was the sound of steel being drawn, but Saburo put himself between Hiruma Akio and the Dragon warrior. “Put that away,” he barked. “If you are going to be a fool then go back the way we came and try to find the Spider patrol’s trail, as you wanted to then.”

            “We will not open that scroll,” Akio swore.

            “What is more important?” Ichizo asked calmly. “The Empress, or the sanctity of our souls?” He looked at Shunori. “The Akodo already knows the answer to that question, I wager.”

            Shunori’s face was white with anger, but he said nothing. He fumed for a moment, before Saburo stepped in front of him and met his eyes. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he nodded. Saburo nodded in return, then looked at Kyoko. “Give me the scroll, please,” he said quietly.

            “No!” Akio shouted. “Do not do this!”

            Saburo took the Black Scroll from Kyoko, his face ashen. “I will not see the Empress dead because we are weak.”

            “You do not know where she is!” Akio said. “She may have turned back to the Imperial City for all we know!”

            “I pray that is true,” Saburo said. “But I think you know it isn’t.”

            With shaking hands, he broke the seal of the scroll.

TO BE CONTINUED

Discuss the events of this fiction in our Story Forum!

For those of you who want a sneak-peek at opening CE 15, L5Rchives has post a weblog of opening the first pack and starter, filmed at the AEG offices last week.

New players are being introduced to Rokugan and old players are seeing the game as they did when they fell in love with it. I couldn’t help but grin when opening my Crane Starter and carefully thumbing through the cards, stopping to feel each card.

It is a new era.

Samurai Edition was an amazing step forward in terms of refining the game. Celestial has captured that and even further pushed the limits of what a great game can be. I have never been so happy to have Doji Domotai ‘trampled’ in my life!

That being said, I feel I should address the various problems that have plagued Celestial Edition’s release. When I joined the L5R Team, Celestial Edition was going on press and we were looking at proofs. It was evident that somewhere in the process some critical steps were missed. I made the decision to pull it off press and correct those issues, with the goal of keeping the release in June. We succeeded and the product is better for it. I know that it was disappointing to wait for the release, but it needed to be done. The previews stalled out a bit, and this is definitely my fault. Once we were finished with CE and it was back on track, we were hit with Path of the Destroyer and Imperial Gift 2 problems. Again, in the shuffling of staff, some things were just missed and production issues complicated that. I got bogged down in the day-to-day push to keep Path of the Destroyer on schedule. I apologize for the way I handled this, fortunately Todd was kind enough to step in and help out. In the rush to get CE back onto press when we proofed the packaging we evidently missed changing the number of booster packs listed on the booster display. It is 36, not 48 as I am sure some of you have discovered.

Finally, the rulebook- The decision to move the rulebooks from the Starter Decks and put them online was made, but I didn’t realize that the online version had not been created. As soon as I discovered this I scrambled to get it ready. Again, ultimately this is my fault. I assumed it had been arranged previous to my joining the team.

The L5R team sincerely apologizes for the various troubles that have occurred and believe me when I say they have performed admirably to rectify these issues as they cropped up. Many hours were put in to bring you Celestial Edition, and as you have seen, so far it’s pretty awesome! Just wait to see what we have in store for you this year and into next!

I want to thank the players sending in cards to decorate my door! I am beginning to actually put them up this weekend. By the way, I have heard a rumor that I should be expecting a Spider Mon made up of corrupted Crane cards. Let me just say- That is freakin awesome! I look forward to it! Please keep the cards coming.

Lastly, I am putting together some updates for you guys, so expect some Gen Con and Path of the Destroyer announcements this week!

Together we are Stronger! We will test this in the next year, believe me!

Jon Hall
Alderac Entertainment Group
L5R Brand Manager
jhall@alderac.com

The Widening Circle

By Nancy Sauer

Edited by Fred Wan

Years ago, north of the Empire

Master Saleh folded his arms within his robes and tried to convince himself that this made him warmer.  He was no stranger to cold, having hunted in the desert in the days of his youth, but these hills held a cold worse than he had ever known: it was clammy and wet, and it wormed its fingers into his clothes and flesh and clenched at the bones beneath. 

         “We should not have come here,” he announced.  “This land is clearly accursed.  It will be the death of us.” 

         Fatina looked up from the animal skull she was examining.  “The land we left behind is now accursed, and would have been death of us had we stayed.  Besides, it cannot be so bad, the Monkey Man came this way.”

         Master Saleh almost countered that the Monkey Man was insane, but he remembered who he was speaking to.   Fatina’s mind wandered in and out of sanity like a cat that couldn’t decide which side of the door it liked better.  “The Monkey Man’s plan is ill-thought,” he said instead.  “What did he think he could find here?”

         “He will find what we need to fight her,” Fatina said. 

         “And how does he know this?”

         “I told him,” Fatina said simply, and went back to studying the skull.

         Master Saleh blinked at this.  “You?”  Fatina was no scholar, and he wasn’t even sure she knew how to read.  The idea that she knew something he didn’t was appalling.  “What did you tell him?  Why didn’t you tell me?”

         Fatina shrugged slightly, running a finger along the curve of an empty jaw.  “The fewer people who knew where he was going the better.  The Destroying One came from here; to let slip our interest in the stories would have been a disaster.”

         Patience, Master Saleh reminded himself.  The only sure method of getting information out of Fatina was patience.  “What stories?”

         “The stories,” Fatina said.  “They tell them in the marketplace, and in the servants’ quarter, and down in the mines when the slaves stop for water and to beg the gods to keep the roof from falling in.  The poison folk brought them first, in my great-grandmother’s time, and when the odd one came his servants brought more.”

         “Stories from this land,” Master Saleh said after untangling her words.  “What good are they to us?”

         “Stories are the bones of the world,” Fatina said.  “When the scavengers tear away the flesh and devour the sinews it is the bone that remains to tell us what has happened.” She bent down and breathed on the skull, and it shrieked in reply.  “The Destroying One, our enemy, the one whose name is bitter in the mouth like myrrh, like alum, like ashes–that one has power like unto a god’s.”  

         She looked up out into the valley spread out before them.  “And in this land, they breed killers of gods.”

 * * * * *

Months ago, in the heart of the Shinomen Mori

“I came as soon as I received your summons, my lord,” Konetsu said.  His bow was deep and graceful, but it lacked something of his normal elegance.  The change did not escape Daigotsu’s notice.

         “You are always prompt,” the Dark Lord said.  “You have gone over Sekawa’s letter?”

         “Yes, my lord,” Konetsu said.  “I believe I have determined its meaning.”

         “But not completely,” Daigotsu said.

         To his credit, Konetsu was not flustered by the statement.  “No, Daigotsu-sama,” he said.  “I regret not.  Not yet.”

         “How can this be?”  Chuda Mishime said.  “You were a Crane, he was a Crane.  Weren’t  you trained in their cadence?”

         Konetsu gave him a condescending look.  “And what do you know of cadence?”

         “Nothing,” Daigotsu said, recapturing both men’s attention.  “And I would like to hear what you have learned.”

         “Of course, my lord,” Konetsu said.  “The letter is addressed to Asahina Keitaro, but the real recipients were to be the four other Keepers–Sekawa meant for Keitaro to extract the real meaning from his message, and pass it on to them.  The message itself deals with the Shadowlands and the nature of its relationship with its avatar.”

         “And what did he have to say about this?” Daigotsu asked.  His eyes had narrowed behind his mask, but he allowed himself no other reaction.

         “I do not know, my lord,” Konetsu said.  ”Yet.  Sekawa and Keitaro worked closely for a number of years, long enough to develop a variant of cadence that was peculiar to them alone.  But they were both Asahina, both shugenja–with time I am sure I can unravel more of the letter’s meaning.”

         “Time better spent doing something else,” Mishime said.  “What could he know about the Shadowlands that Daigotsu-sama does not?”

         “We cannot know until the letter is deciphered.  But Sekawa was the Jade Champion and the Keeper of Five–and if Rekai is correct, he took a large store of scrolls from the Tomb.  There is no saying what insights he is capable of.”

         “The Keeper of Five,” Mishime scoffed.  “The ‘enlightened’ Jade Champion.  I had my vassals keep careful watch on what he did and said–he was no different than any other shugenja, babbling on about Shinsei’s teachings.”

         “If understanding the teachings of Shinsei–being enlightened, as you say–made you obviously wise, then Yogo Junzo would have had no troubles locating Shinsei’s heir,” Konetsu said.  “It would be a dreadful mistake to underestimate Asahina Sekawa.”

         “Silence,” Daigotsu said, before Mishime could reply.  “Konetsu, you are to continue your investigations.  Mishime, you will give him whatever aid he requires of you.”

         “Your will, my lord,” Konetsu said.  He made no attempt to hide his pleasure.

         “Without question, Daigotsu-sama,” Mishime said, his face showing nothing but obedience.

*     *      *      *     *

Weeks ago, in the Fingers of Bone

“This is unbelievable,” Hotako said.  “Daigotsu-sama, are you sure you are not mistaken?”

         “Do you question your lord?” Mishime said.

         “Absolutely,” Hotako said, “when it is in his best interest for me to do so.  This threatens every single one of our plans–I think it is important to make sure that we are not going on a tsu-fish chase.”

         “It cannot be correct,” Isawa Fosuta said.  “Such a thing would be as if–” he paused to think of something appropriate.

         “As if the sun and moon were cast down and replaced with dragons that no one has ever heard of,” Michio said.  Fosuta gave him a venomous look.  Hotako smiled slightly.  Michio ignored them both, his attention on Daigotsu.

         “Exactly as if,” Daigotsu said quietly.  “And there is no doubt of its truth.”  His eyes flicked over his advisors.  “There is only one course of action open to us.”

         Mishime bolted to his feet.  “My lord, I beg for permission to be excused.  I must go at once and begin the search.  Every member of my family will abandon their present duties and turn to this.”

         “You are excused,” Daigotsu said.  “All of you are, save for Michio.”  When the others had departed he turned to the monk.  “You were not disturbed by my announcement.”

         Michio shrugged slightly.  “If you are strong, you will weather this crisis as you have so many others.  If you are weak, I will go and advance my enlightenment elsewhere.”

         Daigotsu smiled.  “I have many servants who lack the blessings of Taint.  But of them I trust only you, for there is no deception in you.”

         “Only me?” Michio said, curious.  “What of Susumu?  He has served you for months, under conditions of great peril.”

         “Susumu,” Daigotsu said.  “When I sent him to Seppun Hill I had no doubt of him.  He has shown considerable ingenuity by getting reports of the Empress’s court to me.  And yet there has been a slow shift of tone in those reports–a distancing of sorts.  It disturbs me.”

         “You think she has turned him.”  Michio’s tone made clear what he thought of that.

         “As you have noted, he is in great peril.  The distancing could be nothing more than a ruse of his, another layer of deception to throw his Bayushi hosts off the scent.”  Daigotsu paused.  “But she is the Daughter of Heaven, and he has lived these months under her eye, in her presence.  I have not lived this long by underestimating my enemies.”

         “Your orders, my lord?”

         “Wait.  And watch.”

*     *     *     *     *

         “You do not seem concerned by the task we have been given,” Fosuta said.

         Hotako looked sideways at him while they walked down the corridor.  “Should I be?”

         “It is a difficult thing he has asked of us.”

         “Not so,” Hotako said.  “At a certain point he may call upon me to kill Shosuro Jimen, a man with all the resources of the Emerald Champion and, one guesses, most of the Scorpion Clan at his disposal.   That will be difficult–this is merely tedious.”

         Fosuta smiled at her.  “And you will brave the tedium to complete the task, for that is your lord’s desire.”

         “Of course,” Hotako said.  “Why else?”

         “Why else indeed,” Fosuta said.  He excused himself and turned down another corridor.  “Why else, indeed,” he murmured to himself.

*     *     *     *     *

Days ago, in the Fingers of Bone

The scroll’s paper had already seen one life as scratch paper: the outer side was filled with hurried sketches, notes on metal content of various alloys, and a few brown smudges that Daigotsu quickly identified as blood.  When he unrolled it he was not surprised to find that the other side contained several dirt smudges and a note written in calligraphy of the highest quality.  When it came to matters of craftsmanship, Yajinden was utterly predictable.

My Lord,

I am taking time away from my work to write this to you; I am sure that you will appreciate the degree of loyalty this implies.  The woman bearing this letter, Asako Kinuye, is a monk of great learning and a tsukai of great power.  Her tendency to flout seasonal conventions when designing gardens is more arty than artistic, but that should not affect her usefulness to you. 

Yours in service,

Daigotsu Yajinden

         Daigotsu rolled the scroll back up.  “Yajinden thinks quite highly of you,” he said.

         “I am gratified to hear that,” Kinuye said.  “He is not the type of person who suffers fools gladly.”

         “Indeed.  I am sure you had a reason for seeking an audience with me, and so I ask: why?”

         “This requires some explanation,” Kinuye said.  “You are familiar with divination?”

         “Its basic principles,” Daigotsu said.  “I have found little use for it myself.”

         Kinuye nodded.  “Divination is fundamentally flawed.  The omens are always truthful, but the diviner can completely miss their significance.  Any fool with a handful of yarrow stalks could have foreseen Yakamo’s fall, but no one in all of Rokugan foretold it.  It was too unimaginable.  I use divination only in my garden, to decide when to prune the lilacs and if crossing this plant with the other will produce the flower color I desire.”

         “I don’t think you have come to discuss gardening with me.”

         “Correct,” Kinuye said.  “Over the past months I have been noticing peculiarities in my divinations.  I disregarded them at first, but over time I have noticed patterns.  They make no sense to me, but the symbols I see repeat themselves again and again.”  She gazed into the middle distance for a moment, and then met Daigotsu’s eyes.  “I have begun to wonder if I am not a fool with a handful of yarrow stalks.”

         Daigotsu was silent for a moment.  Yajinden had carefully avoided mentioning if Kinuye was trustworthy, but that, like her taste in gardens, did not render her useless.  If she was capable of discovering even the broad outlines of what was going on, then she would be worth all the effort it took to protect himself from her.

         “I imagine your departure from the Phoenix limits your ability to do research,” he said.  “If you were to agree to share the results of your studies, I could aid you in this.  The Chuda have a number of talented diviners, though I doubt that any of them are familiar with lilacs.”

         Kinuye smiled and bowed slightly.  “That should not be a problem, Daigotsu-sama.”

*     *     *     *     *

Now, somewhere in the Empire

Long after the other man had fallen asleep, Chuda Genkei remained where he was sitting, staring at him.  Long matted hair and sallow skin pulled too-tight over high cheekbones; presence that hit like a tetsubo and a mind that danced along pathways Genkei could barely follow.

         He wanted to scream.  He wanted to dance.  He wanted to cry.  He wanted to kill everyone in this ratty little village.

         The last, at least, would happen, but not just yet.  They would require the shack they were presently in for a little while longer, and while that was true the village would remain.  Genkei licked his lips, thinking of what they would do when they left.

         Quietly he rose to his feet and made his way to the door.  Easing it aside slowly he slipped into the shack’s common room.  Daigotsu Minoko looked up as he entered, her face showing nothing but the duelist’s habitual calm.  Genkei walked over to her.

         “We must send word to Daigotsu,” he said.  “We have found him.”

 Discuss these events in our Story Forum!

http://www.alderac.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=63&t=76716

Jon Hall here.

Just wanted to announce that Celestial Launch Events should officially be run between June 29th and July 12th. Results should be received by AEG on or before July 15th. This announcement supercedes any previous information.

We are also proud to announce that the Imperial Gift 2: Learn to Play sets will be available at your local Stronghold Store by August 1. We believe that you, the players, will use this gift to teach someone new all about your favorite CCG!

We have a lot in store for the world of L5R in the coming months and we hope you get a taste of that with your Celestial Launch event and the exciting, all new (and FREE!) Imperial Gift 2 cards. With the Kotei season wrapping up, be on the look out- the Heavens may be calm now, but who knows what tomorrow will bring…

On a side note, keep those cards coming to the office! I have enough that I am going to begin the process of covering my door- but I need more!

In these times, with the storm on the horizon- Together we are stronger!

Jon Hall
Alderac Entertainment Group
L5R Brand Manager