The Army of Fire reaches Shiro Shiba, the greatest fortress of the Phoenix lands. After the fall of Kyuden Isawa, the loss of Shiro Shiba would be a blow from which the Phoenix might never recover. At the same time, the beleaguered Yobanjin forces finally reach the gates of Shiro Utaku Shojo, and the defenders of the castle must make a terrible choice.
The War of Dark Fire, Part 12
By Shawn Carman & Lucas Twyman
Edited by Fred Wan
Munkjin frowned as he withdrew his blade from the dead body of the samurai he had slain. He took no pleasure in the deaths of these men and women. They were not his enemies. If the truth was told, there were legends among his family that some of his ancestors had departed the steppes hundreds of years ago and joined a group of samurai that had come from Rokugan. From what little he knew of the Empire, those samurai could only have been the Unicorn. If there was any truth to the rumors, Munkjin was not certain, but the thought that the woman he had just killed could have been his cousin filled him with shame and regret.
As he stared down at the dead woman, Munkjin thought briefly that he should pray to the gods for her to find her way into the next life without difficulty. She had fought bravely and with honor, after all. But no, he understood that these people worshipped differently than his, and it seemed inappropriate, even if the Yobanjin were a people who accepted other beliefs; from what he understood, the Rokugani were not, and would likely have no appreciation for the prayers of an enemy such as himself. He would not dishonor her memory.
Not for the first time, Munkjin entertained the thought of abandoning this mad war, of going to the samurai and telling them all he knew. Perhaps they would be able to help him and the others break free from the Burning One. Rumor had it that they had killed another of his type, the One of the Mountain. But of course that could simply be wishful thinking, and in any event, he dare not risk it. The image of his wife and their two children floated in his mind, never far from his thoughts. If he betrayed the Army of Fire, if any defied the Burning One’s wishes, then his loved ones would suffer. The Burning One had promised this, and although Munkjin knew that his power was not infinite, he knew that it was so great that he dare not take the risk. Those who served, at least, purchased their families’ lives with their own.
There was a distant sound of thunder, and Munkjin was inwardly thankful. The horrific heat that radiated from those who had received the Burning One’s “blessings” made even the most sedentary activities almost unbearable, and the act of combat, something that Munkjin had relished throughout his adult life, was a grueling, inhumane feat under such heat. Any kind of rain would be a welcome relief from the relentless onslaught of the heat.
But of course it was not thunder at all.
Munkjin stared at the line of cavalry that rushed toward the flank where he was stationed. They must have been riding five hundred wide, and so many deep that he could not easily guess how many were among their ranks. How such a massive force of cavalry could have moved from the castle that lay in the western distance to attack from the north he did not understand.
The silence with which the cavalry rode was terrible indeed. There was no sound, no shouts of battle, no zeal for the act of war. There was only the sound of the hooves, and the panicked cries of his comrades. Munkjin squinted and shielded his eyes. He had the keenest vision in his legion, and he could make out the faces of the front line somewhat despite their distance. Women, one and all. Warriors.
One among them, the forty-second from the center, was an older woman whose face was almost a mirror for that of his own sacred mother, who had perished the previous winter after nearly fifty years of life. The resemblance was overwhelming. There could be no question. This woman was of his blood, of his flesh. They were kin, and he would not raise his blade against family, no matter how distant.
Munkjin stuck his blade into the ground and stood, waiting for the thunder to wash over him. Whether he fought or not was meaningless, and if his death was imminent, he would perish free from the sin of killing his own blood. Perhaps in death he would at last find peace.
* * *
It was perhaps a testament to the chaos and despair doubtless swelling within them, a burden they had been so painfully careful to reveal to no one within the court, that the two Phoenix did not hear his approach. Their hushed yet urgent conversation was already underway, and judging from the animated state of both men, men he had otherwise seen maintain perfect composure at almost every moment despite the circumstances, the discussion was not bearing fruit.
“Shiro Shiba will not fall,” Shiba Yoma insisted vehement. “Such a thing is inconceivable. I will not even entertain the thought, not for a moment.”
“I have great respect for you, and for your kinsmen,” Asako Kanta countered. “I have absolute faith in their ability to defend their home, but is this a chance we can afford to take?”
“Acknowledging that the chance exists is tantamount to calling the Shiba’s valor into question,” Yoma said heatedly. “I will not have it! And I certainly will not indulge in such blasphemy myself!”
“With all due respect, my lord,” Kanta said carefully, “I believe you are confusing your emotional response to the invasion with your duties.” He held up his hands quickly to fend off a rebuttal. “I mean only that we must remember that any chance, no matter how remote, must be considered so that we will not find ourselves in a position of weakness should the unthinkable happen.” He shook his head sadly. “The unthinkable has happened so many times already during the course of this war.”
Yoma was clearly furious. His face was flushed and his jaw set, but he did not respond at once. He took several deep breaths and closed his eyes for a moment. “I understand,” he finally said. “You are simply being practical, Kanta. Thank you. You are correct, we must consider the unthinkable. If Shiro Shiba should fall, the entire southern region of the Phoenix lands would be threatened, and poorly defended.”
“The problem we face is how to address it,” Kanta said. “The Shiba have ever been stretched thin, performing the work of families twice their size without complaint. It is one of your greatest virtues.”
“There are a few thousand of our people spread out among the various major cities,” Yoma said, considering carefully. “Imperial City, of course, and many here at the court as well. There are many serving as yojimbo across the Empire as well, but recalling them would be… difficult.”
“How so?” Kanta asked.
Yoma ran a hand through his hair. “Shiba yojimbo are well known as perhaps the finest in the Empire. It is something of a political favor to grant a yojimbo of my family to an ally or trading partner. There are hundreds, perhaps more, serving throughout the Empire in such a capacity. If we recall them home, however, we could suffer a significant loss of face in court as a result of failing to meet our obligations.”
“I think perhaps losing your family’s estate would be a greater loss,” Kanta said.
“Almost certainly, but we cannot readily abandon our duty so easily.”
He had heard enough. “Perhaps I can be of some assistance, my friends.”
Both men startled at the voice, having been so engrossed in their conversation that they would not have heard someone approach, even if they were not as silent as he. “My lord Susumu-sama,” Yoma said with a bow. “Forgive us, we did not know you were here.”
Daigotsu Susumu, for that was still how he thought of himself even if he had not used his family name in six months, smiled. “It is only natural. The anguish you must feel at the thought of your ancestral estate surely must be overwhelming.”
Yoma smiled thinly. “It is… difficult.”
“I may be able to offer you some measure of assistance,” Susumu said. “Although I am not well connected with many Great Clans who have a less than favorable view of my status as a ronin, I do have allies. It would be my great pleasure to offer the Phoenix, who have been nothing but gracious and sincere in their support of my position since my appointment, whatever aid I could.”
“It is you who are gracious, my lord,” Kanta said, “but surely your resources must have greater needs than ours.”
Susumu lifted one hand. “What greater need can a man have than to aid those who have aided him in the past, and who might aid him again in the future? No, I must do this, and I have allies who may be able to relieve your Shiba kinsmen, that they might return home with no dereliction of duty.”
Yoma frowned slightly. “It is unconventional,” he said slowly, “but I believe that would be an acceptable solution, particularly if it was known that the Imperial Advisor endorsed the replacements.” He smiled. “Whom did you have in mind, my lord?”
“There is a temple roughly ten miles from here,” Susumu said. “A sect of monks that are indebted to me for services rendered during my youth, as well as a debt owed to my father, are prominent there. Send a messenger to them, and ask to speak to Tetsuo and Kishida. They will assist you. I will seal your message with my personal chop, and that will be all that they require.”
Kanta nodded. “What sect of the Brotherhood are they with, if I may ask, my lord?”
Susumu smiled slightly. “This particular sect is no longer affiliated with the Brotherhood, I am sad to say. It seems there were philosophical differences.” He shrugged. “Still, I know that we are all too familiar with the ease with which one can fall out of favor with those who adhere too tightly to such a diverse dogma as practiced by the Brotherhood.”
Yoma frowned slightly. “The reasoning of the Brotherhood can be… difficult to follow on occasion.”
Susumu’s smile widened. “Then it is settled. I cannot tell you how overjoyed I am to be of use to you in this matter, my friends. I think this shall benefit us both tremendously.”
* * *
“For nearly one thousand years, Shiro Shiba has stood, a monument to our duty. Even during the Empire’s darkest days, even when Kyuden Isawa itself fell, our Eternal Halls have remained a shining beacon for our clan.” Shiba Tsukimi’s voice was steady and strong, carrying unnaturally over the vast rows of ancient staircases leading into the Shiba palace. Her hair waved lightly in the breeze that whipped through the open gates, and ashes fell softly around her like snow. The Army of Fire was still at least a two hour march from the outer villages surrounding Shiro Shiba, but the smoke and ash was a foreboding harbinger of their arrival. The mountains and forests of the Phoenix burned, smoke carrying for miles. The morning sky was dark, clouds of soot hovering like a thunderstorm looming over the dawn.
“The Eternal Phoenix Dojo has stood longer still, ensconced within our palace’s walls. Founded by Shiba himself, it was once a second home to me, to us all.”
Stretching down the staircases and hundreds of feet beyond, the assembled Shiba armies murmurer assent. Deep within Tsukimi, the multitude that inhabited her soul echoed the army’s agreement. Tsukimi looked up at the sky, squinted at the red-gold of the dawn.
“I have called you, my brethren, before me to remind you of this fact,” Tsukimi continued, her voice gradually growing in intensity, “and to remind myself of the strength of the men and women who will fight at my side. I know that many of you serve as yojimbo, and wish to be at your charges’ sides. I know that even more of you are aware exactly what you face today, for you have faced it before, in the mountains of Aoijiroi province, on the fields before Kyuden Isawa, on sacred grounds of the Ki-Rin shrine, in the streets of Hopeful Rest City. I know many of you know the strength and loyalty of your comrades, for you would not be here today without them.”
Kneeling, Tsukimi gathered her ancient yari from the floor at her feet. She stood again and looked out over her family, and every bushi felt as if her eyes were on them, as if she had stopped to address them personally. “We asked you here for selfish reasons. We wished to see all of you, for in your faces, the Soul of the Shiba sees itself. In your weary eyes are the hopes and dreams of the Phoenix: a wish for peace after so much war, a wish for a day when our duty becomes unnecessary. Each of you knows the price we must pay for peace. I know that each of you would pay it willingly.” Tsukimi nodded, a look of distant determination in her eyes. “I know now that I am willing to pay a terrible price as well: I am willing to sacrifice us all to ensure peace. I do this because I know you, and I love you. We have aid today – many clans have sent their forces, and the Imperial Legions stand at the ready. I implore you: do not fear sacrificing yourself for them. We will be the first to face the enemy, and the first to give our lives. Today, we may all enter the fire, but is the fire not the home of our hearts?” Tsukimi raised her yari in the air and shouted into the early morning. “We may die, but death will be our reward! We may burn in the fires of this world, but in fire the Phoenix is reborn! Let the world hear that you are not afraid! Before we die, make the world remember our voices! UTZ!”
The palace walls shook as ten thousand Phoenix joined their Champion in her cry.
* * *
Utaku Yu Pan struggled to remain in control of herself despite the chaos. Her every instinct screamed at her to take to the saddle and ride into the fight, to find her lady Xieng Chi and fight at her side. And yet her duties as captain of the guard at Shiro Utaku Shojo demanded that she remain and coordinate the defense of the estate, no matter how much she wished otherwise. A cabal of advisors surrounded her, constantly updating her as to the castle’s defense and reports from the front lines. The din of it was maddening, and it was all she could to do maintain her sanity in the face of it all.
The horses, at least, were safe. Before she had taken to the field, Utaku Xieng Chi had called upon Yu Pan to select one of her lesser officers. Yu Pan had chosen Kohana, one of her best and brightest. The daimyo had commanded Kohana to take the mares and foals from the stable and move them south, away from the fighting, to ensure that the sacred herd was not threatened. Kohana had departed at once, with one of the guests from the Dragon Clan, a cavalry officer named Mirumoto Kuroki, in tow. The two had coordinated the efforts of the stablemasters brilliantly, and the herd had moved south even as the Army of Fire had come into view to the east. The news that the Iuchi had brought indicating that two delegates from Winter Court, the sensei Matsu Atasuke and the well-known diplomat Doji Nagori, were in the process of escorting the Empress’ private herd of Utaku steeds to the southern Ide lands, had put the minds of the Utaku at ease regarding the safety of their beloved horses. That, at least, was one issue that did not weight heavily upon Yu Pan’s mind as she struggled to fulfill her duties in the face of a situation that no one had ever imagined might come to pass.
“Yu Pan-sama,” one of the advisors interrupted her thoughts, “we have received word that the larger body of the army is shifting its focus.”
She was alert and completed focused instantly. “Details, please.”
“It seems that Xieng Chi’s assault on the flank has severely damaged the army’s body. She has received support from the Shinjo detail harassing the flank, but now the army is regrouping quicker than anticipated. They are encircling our sisters, cutting them off from viable escape routes with ranks so thick that the horses cannot traverse them quickly enough.” She bowed her head. “They are trapped, my lady.”
“No!” Yu Pan insisted. She bit her lip. “What is the status of the force already at our gates?”
“Several hundred strong, perhaps a thousand,” another of the advisors replied. “Without support from the main body, we can defend ourselves indefinitely.”
“If we remain here, Xieng Chi and our sisters die,” Yu Pan said. “We must go to them with all the forces at our disposal.”
“Captain, we cannot do that,” a third advisor said. “Doing so will allow the castle to be overrun. We cannot rescue our lady and defend our home. The two are mutually exclusive.”
“And what if Xieng Chi and the others die?” Yu Pan snarled. “Will the enemy not then turn upon us and destroy us regardless?”
“We cannot be sure of that. They may suffer losses too significant to continue.”
“May?” Yu Pan threw down the iron fan she carried. “Ready all but the castle guard. They will defend the castle as best they can until we return.”
“My lady,” one of the advisors said. “This will destroy our home.”
“We are Utaku,” Yu Pan said defiantly. “Our home is on the battlefield.”
* * *
The screams came first: men burning eternally, driven mad by the constant pain and the smoldering smell of their own flesh, charging out into the land between the forest and the sea. The initial shock troops of the Army of Fire, the burning madmen, were always the first sent into the field, their very nature disturbing to the armies of Rokugan.
The Army of Fire poured out from the Mori Isawa onto the plain, insatiable as a wildfire. From the parapets of the ancient castle, Shiba and Imperial archers rained down death onto the approaching army, the sheer weight of their arrows blocking out what light filtered through the smoke and soot. Every so often, a shaft would find itself buried in a flaming barbarian, and the unfortunate invader’s death scream would be drowned out by the sound of his body exploding with magical energy. Huge craters were gouged into the terrain. Water from the seaside aquifer rushed in to fill the bottom of the unnatural gouges in the earth, and the Isawa were ready. The water kami, already excited by the low sea level granting them the ability to intrude on the land, were easily coaxed to further intrusion, and the sea itself began to rush through the ground. As dozens of Isawa water tensai offered their prayers and sacrifices, huge geysers erupted from the earth, smashing into the lines of the advancing army on all sides.
There was a tremendous crashing in the distance, and the forest shook as huge lines of trees fell like bamboo shoots before a blade. From the forest’s edge, the wyrms erupted, their massive coiling forms undaunted by the flooded battlefield. They were larger and more terrible than those seen in many of the initial skirmishes – the brood mothers of their kind, perhaps, or simply what the horrible creatures became when grown fat on the blood of Rokugan’s people. Their terrible cries echoed across the battlefield, and neither arrow nor enticed kami could breach their thick hides. When the first wyrm hit the walls of Shiro Shiba, shaking the castle to its core, six brave samurai fell to their death. The defenders of Shiro Shiba’s northern walls were forced to fall back, and ever more invaders poured from the forest, a seemingly endless number.
Shiba Danjuro, leader of the Shogun’s forces fighting on the Phoenix front of the war, cursed under his breath, and ordered his men to begin the evacuation of the palace. Shiro Shiba’s strange, winding structure was designed to turn back any attackers and serve as the ultimate defense against any who would invade the Isawa lands to the North. It was designed withstand any assault – any assault from the south. With the Yobanjin attacking from the north, Shiro Shiba would surely fall. The only hope of the Shiba forces, then, was to fall back to the narrow passage of land directly to the palace’s south. In theory, it should serve as a perfect choke-point, and it had served the Phoenix well throughout the centuries, never failing to deter an attacking force. Now, though, it would have to be used to defend against a force coming from the north, the Phoenix’s normal position of strength. Against the inferior tactics of the Yobanjin, the Phoenix had a chance, but the tremendous number of their foes made it a slim one.
With a heavy heart, Shiba Danjuro raised his fan and signaled to the relay corps to his south, offering his recommendations to his Champion: a full retreat to the pass.
To Isawa Kyoko, the fighting seemed endless, immeasurably bloody, and depressingly hopeless. Her assessment was not very far from the truth: it was now nearing evening, and since the attack began in the late morning, the battle had been conducted as a series of staggered retreats. Whenever the Phoenix seemed to gain a foothold against their foes, a new facet of the Yobanjin was revealed. First the wyrms, then the burning archers, then the exploding suicide troops, then the group of magically-concealed assassins that scattered two of the major command groups. The loss of life on both sides was staggering – a fact made all the worse for Kyoko because she knew that many of the Yobanjin were under the forceful thrall of the Dark Oracle of Fire. Isawa Sawao, her mentor, had told her that the Dark Oracle’s attack could not have been merely a reprisal for their clan’s hunt for the Dark Oracles’ weaknesses – a force as massive and seemingly impossible as the Yobanjin armies was obviously the result of years of planning – but each death wore on Kyoko’s conscience all the same.
Still, Kyoko fought to remain focused. Commanding the kami was not, contrary to popular conception, a simple matter of will. While the greatest masters of elemental magic could certainly force the kami to bow to their whim by force of will alone, normally only the stolid earth kami responded to forceful commands. The kami of the air needed to be cajoled, amused, or flattered to perform the shugenja’s wishes, and hours of doing so was beginning to wear on Kyoko’s patience. At first, the flighty air kami were easily motivated to please their “friends,” but ideas like a “defending their homeland” or even simple concepts like “dying” were beyond them. After a few hours, their attention began to wear thin. Kyoko was forced to offer promises and sacrifices – a breath here, a prayer bead there – until she felt like she was being slowly cut into a thousand pieces. Despite heroes like her master, Sawao, and the Head Inquisitor Asako Juro fighting at her side, she felt her strength begin to flag. She felt herself questioning her resolve to carry on, her vision grew blurry, she slid to her knees…
“KYOKO!”
Kyoko’s head snapped up, and she felt a warmth in her chest. A hundred feet away, running towards her, was Isawa Takesi. His eyes were wide, looking directly at her. She had not seen him in so long, not since… not since she had pushed him away. They had their final request to marry denied, so she asked to accompany Sawao rather than allow herself to be near him. He drew closer, still running, and she smiled and slowly began getting to her feet – at least she could fight at his side again. But something was wrong. He seemed… angry. She saw that he was wielding a katana made of flame and he was charging at her too fast. Her smile disappeared…
Takesi dived past her, a banzai scream erupting from his lips as his blade scorched the air around her cheek. She spun around and saw Takesi’s sword buried in the chest of a Yobanjin assassin, Takesi slowly standing and looking at her, his eyes wide with concern. There was a rushing sound, and the kami around her screamed. Takesi mouthed “Are you alright?” but she never heard the words.
The Yobanjin exploded, molten flame leaping from his body. Takesi spun around and outstretched his hand, a prayer escaping his lips, as his body was engulfed by the burning plasma. The flame stopped, turned back by Takesi’s final prayer as he fell to the ground, his body scorching away, quickly engulfed by the unnatural flame. The magical fire rushed up his body, devouring everything, the ashes of his legs floating away like cherry blossoms in the breeze before the flames even reached his head. He looked at Kyoko and smiled, a smile warmer than any other she would see during the full length of her life.
As Takesi crumbled into the breeze, Kyoko’s mind was shocked to attention, clearer than ever before. The world seemed to slow as she thought; her mind, horribly, could not think of the warm moments she spent with Takesi in the Imperial City, or on the adventures on the sea they had seemingly so long ago. Instead, the Dark Covenant of Fire glowed in her mind’s eye like a beacon. In that moment, she saw the edges of the world, of the whole of the elements themselves. She understood, somehow, how the magic of the Dark Covenant worked, a mystery not even Sawao was capable of unraveling when they visited its resting place several months earlier. But the vision was disappearing rapidly; her enlightenment was but a glimpse. She could do something, but the sacrifice…
“Love,” she whispered to the kami, “You do not understand it, but take it nonetheless, and learn. Take from me whatever love remains in my heart.”
The kami were silent, and she heard again the battle raging around her. It was foolish, stupid – of course they couldn’t understand such a gift, and now her momentary insight was gone forever.
Then, around her, the air shimmered and glowed, and mournful cry echoed through the air. There was a tremendous flash of heatless light and flame, and throughout the pass, the soldiers of the Army of Fire stumbled and fell back. Some collapsed to the ground like puppets with their strings cut; others simply looked around confused; some cried out in astonishment, their flames gutted; and still others fought on, but when struck down their bodies did not shift or explode. Over a third of the enemy forces found themselves pacified, their supernatural strength denied to them, and the Phoenix began to rally.
Sawao was suddenly at Kyoko’s side, his astonishment impossible to ignore. Several hundred yards to Kyoko’s south, Shiba Danjuro’s command group surged forward, cutting down the Yobanjin between them and the small shugenja unit. When Danjuro and his men arrived, Sawao nodded at the Imperial commander and gestured to Kyoko.
“She is the one who did this?” Danjuro asked. “She is the one who may have saved us?”
Sawao simply nodded and said, “Her name is Kyoko.”
Danjuro turned back to the assembled Shiba, and cried, “When this battle is won today, the legends will speak the name of Isawa Kyoko, hero of the Battle of the Burning Palace!”
An army cried Kyoko’s name, and she covered her face and wept.
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Blessed Herd [Follower]
2/0
1/3/-
Cavalry
Attaches to a Dragon Clan Personality paying 1 less Gold.
This Personality has Cavalry.
FV 2
Shiba Guard [Follower]
2/0
2/3/-
Yojimbo
This card has +1F while attached to a Phoenix Clan Personality.
Reaction: After an action targets this Personality, destroy this card:
The action’s effects do not happen.
FV 3
