"The essence of being human is that one does not seek perfection."

- George Orwell

Between the ancient times when Gods and Demons walked the earth, and the rise of modern civilization, there was an age of chaos and rebirth. An age which shook the very foundation of existence, and threatened to forever disrupt the delicate balance of nature and will. For this age brought a new being, a new form of life into the world, where it would leave its mark like no others that came before it. And in this chaos, forces hidden in the shadows gathered and prepared to do battle, for the coming war would decide the ultimate fate of life itself. But the final battle would not be fought in one place. It would be fought across time…and between worlds…

Being Alive


Prologue

Whoever it was who had previously described the night as a quiet affair had never actually been out during the nighttime, thought a young man as he trekked through the thickest, darkest patch of forest he had ever seen in his life, listening to all the sounds of wildlife that echoed throughout. The night was anything but quiet. It was alive, loud, angry; and, without the blessing of sight, all the more dangerous.

Of course, that depended on who you were. In this young man's line of work, one needed to know how to move undetected. Darkness and distracting noise could work to one's advantage. Such thoughts creeped through his mind as he rode his horse through the dark woods. The noises of the night were not nearly enough to drown out the steps of his steed, but you would have no easier time making it out at night than during the day. He egged his horse on at a slow, steady pace, weaving his way around large, dense thickets of trees, and crossing brook after brook.

He sighed in relief inwardly as he neared his destination. It was a small cave entrance at the foot of a rather large hill. Dismounting his horse, he sent it on its way with a heavy slap to the behind. After the horse was out of sight, he went inside, and stopped to pull a couple of stones out of a pocket. He also produced a small stick and a piece of cloth, from which he fashioned himself a makeshift torch. Striking the two pieces of flint together, he produced a small flame from a brief blast of sparks. Putting away the stones, he made his way further into the dark cave, wielding the torch in front of him.

The cave was little more than a small tunnel, which required him to crouch slightly in order to traverse. After about a hundred paces, the tunnel opened up to a cavern. The flame on the torch had grown larger since it had been lit, and was now bright enough to illuminate the whole room, allowing the young man to glimpse the familiar sight in front of him.

In the center of the cavern was an enormous, hollowed-out tree. The trunk was monstrously wide, with the opening big enough for several men to walk through side-by-side. The trees' height exceeded that of the cavern it resided in, extending to the top with its branches curled and dug up into the ceiling of the cavern like overgrown roots. It had no leaves or other vegetation. The wood in the tree was of a beige color, with a hint of green. Looking into the hollowed-out opening, he saw nothing but darkness. If it was outside in the woods with all the others, it would have stood out quite magnificently.

Taking his eyes off the tree, he walked over to the wall of the cavern, and, stopping at arm's length, put his right palm on the wall. He took slow steps to his left, feeling the wall the entire way, until he came to a stop. Holding the torch close to where his hand had been, he could see a little circular outline in the stone. He reached his free hand inside the neck of his tunic and, after a bit of fumbling, produced a small medallion, which hung around his neck on a chain. He pressed it into the outline in the stone wall.

A second later, a section of the wall began to rumble. It moved inward, forming a door just large enough for a man to walk through. The young man entered, and the door closed behind him.

He stopped to put his torch into a small pail of water sitting next to the doorway. The corridor in front of him was lit with torches, and easily visible the whole way down. As he walked, he glanced at the passing stone walls, with carvings that formed tapestries. Soon, he turned a corner, and came to the first soul he'd seen in nearly three days. It was a guard, standing at his post. The guard held no visible weapon, and did not appear threatening in the least. Of course, the young man knew better.

He nodded, and continued down the corridor. Eventually, he came to another door, with two guards standing watch outside of it. They let him through, and he entered.

He looked around the larger room. There was a large, round tatami mat in the center, with a small fire burning in the middle. And all around the room sat the forms of at least two dozen others, all in kneeling position. Although their faces were clothed in shadow, he could feel all of their eyes watching.

A low, masculine voice broke the silence. "Welcome back, Samanosuke. Have a seat."

He did as he was bid, taking an empty spot between two others not far from where he had come in.

"I take it your journey back went smoothly?"

"As always," Samanosuke replied.

"Did you achieve your mission?"

He paused to sigh before responding. "I did."

"Inform us on what you found."

He took a deep breath before beginning.

"As ordered, I traveled to the western lands to meet with the brigand monk known only as 'Jiko'. I fell in with his order, and gained his trust…or at least what little trust there was to gain. For weeks I accompanied him on his work, confirming the rumors about the weapons he and his ilk had brought to our lands-"

"The stone-fire arrows," a voice replied. "Or fire cannons, or whatever they call them."

"Yes," Samanosuke replied. "Those. Anyway, he has indeed been dealing those weapons, though only to a select group of people. I watched those people train with those weapons, and I saw them use those weapons to kill. And then…and then…"

"What did you see, Samanosuke?"

The young man swallowed. "I saw the very thing we have all been fearing."

The tension in the room rose. Where before there had been nothing but silence from nearly all the others, Samanosuke could now hear breaths getting heavier.

"Tell us what you saw. Exactly."

"Jiko dealt the new weapons to a woman and her soldiers."

"A woman?" another voice called out.

"Please," the questioner responded, raising his hand. "Continue, Samanosuke."

"As I said, this woman commands her own band of warriors. To test the power of her weapons, she traveled to the west, deep into the forest of the Deer God."

He could now briefly make out voices around the table mingling amongst each other. He continued.

"There was a mining colony, living on a small island in an enormous lake. They were digging up iron ore, but couldn't work in the surrounding lands."

"That territory belongs to a boar tribe," someone said. "And they're led by a god."

"Nago," Samanosuke finished for him. "I saw him with my own eyes as he demolished one of their outposts. Even more powerful than I imagined."

"But what about the woman and her weapons?" another asked.

Samanosuke hesitated. He'd been building up to this moment.

"She took a squad of men, armed with the new weapons, into the forest, and faced Nago and the boars. They set the forest on fire, using other weapons I'd never seen before. They used military tactics to scatter the whole boar tribe, sending them into disarray. With their destructive new weapons, they slaughtered the boars in large numbers until only Nago was left to fight. And then…Nago himself was slain."

Gasps resonated all around the room, followed by an uproar.

"That's impossible!"

"There's no way a mere human could kill a God!"

"Surely Nago is not dead!"

The questioner from earlier raised his hand once more in an attempt to calm the room. "Silence," he said. "We need to let Samanosuke finish his account." He turned back to the young man. "How did Nago die?"

"The woman I told you about, who led the band of warriors. She fired the shot that sent him into a frightened tantrum. His whole clan was wiped out, and he ran off into the forest to die."

All eyes were one him once again. "You mean you didn't see him die?"

"There was no way he could have survived the wounds he had sustained. Before, he had always appeared composed. After she shot him, he had succumbed to madness. I truly believe him to be dead."

"What if he's become a demon?" someone asked. "What if the madness drove him past the limits of his sanity?"

Samanosuke hadn't thought of that. The very idea of it chilled him to the bone.

"In any case, I know what I saw. The boar tribe is no more, and Nago, alive or not, is defeated. The humans in that land are victorious, and will spread their influence further. I witnessed the expansion of their mining efforts further into the forest of the Deer God. Afterwards, I returned here."

"Is that all you have for us?"

He nodded.

The mingling continued, and the tone was not pleasant. "This is horrific," one man said. "A human with the ability to slay a God…no human should have such power!"

"If humans have what it takes to kill the Gods themselves, utter chaos is what awaits us! The lands will be consumed, and famine and starvation will follow!"

"We should have seen this coming! The great forests are already getting smaller than they have ever been! If the Gods of beasts and nature cannot keep human expansion in check, what can?"

While Samanosuke was quiet, he was nonetheless shaken. He'd never seen them act like this before.

"We can."

All eyes were on the new voice. The one to whom it belonged had not spoken up the entire night. "What everyone is saying is most certainly true. If humans have developed enough to be able to slay something as powerful as a God, disaster is indeed on the horizon. If that is the case, we must act, and soon."

"What do you mean?"

"We all swore an oath to protect the balance of nature, did we not? What other reason do we have for existing? Surely we cannot sit back and watch as this calamity unfolds."

Some nodded their heads in agreement. Others were more cautious.

"What do you propose that we do?"

"There are no easy solutions," the man replied. "But there are certainly steps that can be taken to curb this little excursion by our own kind. While we can act from the shadows, just as we observe, we can also consider moving out of the shadows, to influence humans in a different way. This pitiful excuse for a monk Samanosuke spent time with played on people's faith to achieve his ends. There's no reason we can't as well."

Everyone mingled and argued some more until the man who had questioned Samanosuke silenced them with another wave of his hand. He then looked to the man sitting next to him, a very old man who had remained silent throughout the whole affair.

"What do you say, Master?" he asked.

The old man sat with his eyes closed, silently contemplating. Eventually, he opened his eyes, and raised his head to face the entire room.

"We wait."

There was mixed reaction amongst the party, but only one person responded. He was the same one who had offered a solution earlier. "Master," he said, "surely you cannot mean that."

"It is not our place to act in place of nature, Bando. You know that as well as I do. You all do."

Several people in the room nodded slowly in approval.

"It is indeed troubling to hear that a God has been slain by a human…if that is indeed what happened. However, we do not know what will come to pass. Just as humans adapt to their surroundings, nature can, and has, adapted to those living within it. Whether or not these unfortunate circumstance become worse, we will be here to observe, and do our best to influence humanity's ways in a taciturn manner. But we will not play God ourselves. Pretending to be something we are not will make us no better than the ones engaging in this brash behavior."

The room remained silent, awaiting more of the old man's words.

"We are to observe, and nothing more. I expect all of you to respect this decision. That will be all."

With that, some people in the room rose to leave. Others stayed around the fire. Samanosuke began to get to his feet when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"See me in my chambers."


Samanosuke moved aside another thin tarp made of burlap to enter the room in question. It was rather small, with little more than a futon, a small table, and a tiny shrine built into the wall of stone. A lone candle on the table illuminated the room. The old man who had requested his presence was praying before the shrine, seemingly oblivious to his new guest. After a few seconds, he broke the silence.

"Have a seat."

He did as he was told, sitting at the small wooden table that stood between him and his master. The old man produced two cups of hot green tea, which they began to sip. The tea was so hot that Samanosuke had to wait, yet he noticed his senior had no such handicap. It was as if the heat didn't affect him at all as he drank it.

After another sip, the old man continued. "I know you have just returned," he said, "but I have another task for you."

"Already?" the young man asked.

"Forgive me for being so impatient," he continued, sipping his tea again. "But I am afraid it is urgent. We have little time to act."

"Act?" Samanosuke said, taken aback. "Didn't you say-"

The old man cut him off. "I know what I said. It was necessary at the time. You haven't been with us long, Samanosuke, but even you know the kind of influence Bando wields amongst our order. He is charismatic, dynamic…almost hypnotic in his charm. But he's also ruthless in his ambition. And many of our colleagues were starting to see things his way tonight. I didn't want to alarm them any further by vindicating him."

He paused to finish his tea, putting the small ceramic cup down before resuming.

"But the truth is, he's right. At least about the urgency for action. They all are. What you witnessed during your mission was indeed an omen for dark times. If action is not taken soon to stem the coming chaos, it will be too late. Only it needs to be a smarter, more precise kind of action than the kind Bando has in mind."

"Why are you telling me this?" Samanosuke asked.

"You're one of the few people here I believe I can trust. I could have chosen anyone for the mission I gave you, but there's been growing distrust among our ranks. I know a number have fallen in with Bando, but there are still a few I'm unsure of. As of now, you're the only one I can trust for this task."

"And why are we acting now?"

"Because I believe Bando is already acting on his own. He would not have spoken up the way he did tonight if he did not have a plan in place. I do not doubt his sincerity, but neither do I trust his judgment. This means we have to act fast."

Turning around, he reached under the shrine, pulling out a small box before placing it on the table between them. "I want you to head south, to the region of Fujisaki, and meet up with our old friends."

Samanosuke paused before responding. "You mean the Rokuro clan?"

"Correct. You are to ride there tonight, as fast as you can go. And once you arrive, speak to the old crone for me. Give her this."

He opened the box and pulled out a translucent green jewel attached to a string. He handed it to Samanosuke.

"Put this in her hand. She'll know what to do."

Samanosuke hung the jewel from his neck, tucking it behind his tunic.

"I wish you good will on your journey. You may leave."

Samanosuke bowed before standing to leave. The old man watched him go, then slowly turned back to the small shrine. Reaching into his robes, he pulled out a medallion of his own. He stared as it gleamed in the candlelight.


About an hour later, the old man continued to meditate in front of his shrine. Soon enough, however, he felt an intruding presence.

"Bando," he said, not moving or opening his eyes.

"Good evening, Master."

He turned around to face his guest. "What brings you to my chambers?"

"Our discussion from earlier," he responded, taking a seat in front of the old man. "I figured you might be more open to reason away from all those prying eyes."

"My position stands, Bando. We are to wait."

"I understand your discretion. Still, for us to do nothing at all…surely you understand how potentially dire this situation is."

"I do," he retorted. "I'm no more pleased about this turn of events than you are. However, I know all too well the consequences of impatience and brash action. I'd hoped you would understand."

Bando sat in silence, contemplating his thoughts. "Perhaps I do. And maybe I was wrong to doubt your judgment."

"It is understandable," the old man responded. Taking a deep breath, he continued. "Bando, why do you think you are here?"

"What do you mean by that, master?"

"I mean, why do you think I have you as a disciple? While we have the same passion for this world, we rarely agree on matters."

"That's true. I sometimes wonder why you haven't tired of me."

"I keep you here because you provide a balance; to our process, to our very way of thought. There's no one else among the ranks who openly voices his or her thoughts as much as you do. While we rarely agree on matters, never have I demanded that you fall in line. And never have I attempted to silence you when you had something to say. Having a balance of thought and ideas in our order is necessary. It's what we are all about."

The younger man couldn't help but smile. "I see, master."

"That being said," he continued, "I also hope that you have learned with time. In no way am I implying that with my age and wisdom you would come to the exact same conclusions that I would. No two men in the world are the same. But wise men do have some things in common. And restraint is one of those things."

"All this talk of balance," Bando said. "I understand the need for it, but it seems like little more than a resignation."

"We must resign ourselves to certain things, Bando. It is our way as humans."

"Tell that to this woman and her ilk from out west," he retorted. "They don't seem to have gotten the message."

"Like anyone else who oversteps their bounds, they will face the inevitable consequences, Bando."

"But not without causing irreversible damage to the world around them. If certain people go too far, there may not be much of a balance of nature for us to preserve. Surely you can understand the desire to act in such a situation, even if brashly."

"Put yourself in this woman's shoes, Bando," the old man said. "Think of why she might have wanted to clear out an old forest and the beasts inhabiting it. She may simply be a greedy, ambitious, glory-seeking despot. On the other hand, she may wish to alleviate the suffering of poor common folk. You heard Samanosuke's testimony. She saved a mining commune from almost certain starvation. If she hadn't convinced so many people to follow her, she wouldn't be as powerful as she is now. I don't even know this woman," he said, taking a deep breath. "And yet already, she's reminding me of you."

Bando chuckled. "I guess everyone has a different vision for the perfect world."

"Not me," the old man retorted. "I abhor the idea of a perfect world, Bando. Mainly because, as you just said, everyone's idea is different. When people say they want a perfect world, they mean one perfect for themselves, and no one else. I'm more than content to live in the imperfect world we have now, where everyone will know at least some form of happiness." He turned around to face his shrine again.

"That's a very interesting way of looking at things, master."

"I only hope you appreciate them as much as I appreciate your thoughts, Bando."

"Oh, I do…" he responded, taking a deep breath. "And that's why I'm going to miss you."

The old man didn't move.

"It's a shame," Bando said, getting to his feet. "I'd really hoped you would come around tonight. But if bad news of this magnitude can't sway you, I don't know what can."

"You disappoint me, Bando."

"Not as much as you disappoint me, master. Now, if you will come with me – your judgment awaits."

The old man made a sudden movement before an explosion of smoke filled the room, blowing out the candle and rendering the room pitch black. The smoke soon dissipated, and Bando lit a torch of his own. The old man was gone.


Moving rather fast and smoothly, the old man made his way through a hidden corridor. It was small, so he had to crouch as he walked, but he made good time.

I never expected him to go this far, he thought. How foolish of me. Still, there's time yet.

He reached the end of the corridor and used his medallion to open a hidden door, which led to the cavern outside. But he went no further.

Waiting for him inside the cavern were at least a dozen of his colleagues, all standing in the same robes they wore during the meeting they had held earlier that night, and carrying torches that lit up the cavern. He could not tell who was who, because each of them was sporting a ceramic mask where their faces should have been. He also noticed that some of them were carrying blades, which were stained with blood. Ready to confirm his worst fears, he let his eyes wander to the floor.

Laying below them was a more haunting sight: several more of his colleagues, sprawled out on the ground, pools of blood running along the stone floor. Each victim had a frozen look of horror on their face, one that would never leave.

The silence was broken when one of the masked figures stepped forward. "Terribly sorry about this, old friend," Bando said, removing his mask. "But we felt there was no other way. Sadly, you're not the only one who wouldn't listen to reason on this fateful night."

"These were your friends, Bando," the old man exclaimed, his voice taking on a tone of anger for the first time that night. "Your comrades."

"They were. And I certainly didn't enjoy this," he said. "But sacrifices must be made."

"Is this all you're planning? Commanding the order yourself? You won't be able to make much of a difference this way."

"It's worse than you think," Bando retorted. He reached into his robes and pulled out something attached to his neck. It was a translucent jewel, similar to the one the old man had given Samanosuke earlier. He stepped closer to the enormous tree within the cavern, and the jewel began to glow. A dim light began to emit from the hollowed-out tree. Seconds later, he could hear footsteps. Soon after, another figure stepped out of the opening in the tree. He, too, was wearing a mask, but that was where the similarities between him and the others ended. This figure wore clothes the likes the old man had never seen before. It was similar to a tunic and pants, but was a vibrant mixture of different colors. He also carried what looked like a weapon, one he had also never seen before.

The footsteps continued to emit from the tree, and several more people emerged, all of them wearing attires alien to the old man, and all wearing the same ceramic masks as everyone else in the cavern. Bando looked them all over, and smiled before turning back to his old master.

"I will miss my old comrades," he said. "But I have made many new ones."

"Who are these people, Bando?"

"People from another world," he said, his smile getting more devious. "The likes of which you could never imagine."

"What have you done?" he asked, a grave look overtaking his face.

"I'm afraid that's privileged information," he said. "Only available to those within my new order. And that brings me to my last point."

He took a step closer, standing face to face with his old master. "While you may have disappointed me thoroughly tonight, I shall offer you one final chance. You have taught me well, old friend, but I no longer believe you capable of being my master. If you join my order, and follow my commands, I shall not only spare you, but make you privy to all of my secrets and plans."

The old man swallowed. "And if I refuse?"

"Then you die."

Silence followed. Finally, the old man sighed to himself, and knelt on the ground.

"I suppose that's all, then. May you learn from your follies, Bando."

"So be it."

With a wave of his hand, all the masked figures carrying blades descended upon the old man. Soon enough, more blood began to flow along the floor, watering the roots of the enormous tree.

After the grisly deed was completed, Bando reached into the bloody robes of his deceased master, and retrieved the medallion he carried with him. After looking upon it one last time in the firelight, he crushed it in his bare hands.


Hey there! I'm back, and I hope you all enjoyed this beginning chapter to my new story!

I truly am sorry that it took me this long to get started, but I spent a long time simply planning out the story from beginning to end. A combination of writer's block and feature creep, along with a busy schedule, held things up even more. To tell you the truth, getting the prologue done was the hardest part, as I didn't really know where to begin. Truth be told, this is my third attempt, as my first two efforts at a prologue didn't satisfy me. But, rejoice, I finally did it. Now that I've finally gotten started, things will move much more smoothly.

Well, that's all for now. I'm already writing the next few chapters, so hopefully it shouldn't be too long before you see another. Happy trails.