Let Them Burn
The chosen ones of the Iridescent Peacock Society were continuing the meeting. The eyes of all the young wu jen were keen and unblinking on the old man, their leader. His tale had intrigued them to no end, and though they took care to keep their face and not convey emotion, each and every one of them was in a considerable state of excitement.
The old man discontinued his tale and picked up a piece of sushi with his lacquered ornamental pair of chopsticks. He savored the taste, regarding his followers.
- "You were chosen because of your talent, yes... it will be needed, and it will serve us well," he said. "But more than that, you were chosen because of your vision. There are those who have sought to conquer. We have seen the Tuigan barbarians penetrate deep into Shou Lung, we have seen the Shou humiliate the empire of Wa by defeating its naval vessels and holding it as a naval outpost for decades. That is just material. It will not stand the test of time. We have seen those who seek to become gods, to raise their position in the Celestial Order and dwell with the Heavenly Ones, holding much power. Some of them have succeeded, most have moved on with the great cycle by now. All these lack vision compared to us. Do you have what it takes? Are you ready to throw away life as you knew it?"
There were nods and murmurs of approval. The old man smiled. Some of them would not even have to be cast aside once their initial purpose was fulfilled.
- "I do not have to tell you that there is much more to the world than Ningen-do. Ever so often the spawn of Oni Lords haunt the world of mortals, and the sphere of dreams. That is just the way of things, the spheres overlapping, the reality shifting. But this time more than that is going on. I have been communicating with the oni, and my dark shukenjas have prayed to the malevolent kami. Our visions are unfocused and swirling, but I have been able to see this much. The Oni Lords seek to harness the power of the gaki to unite with their own spawn, and Yomi is aware of this. The shiryo are gathering an army, seeking aid from foo creatures and celestial dragons."
- "There is a war brewing in the spirit world, even without our involvement?" Itami asked.
The old man beamed at her and nodded.
- "There is indeed, and it would be a gamble of a lifetime to find out which side is winning. But this is where we come in. I have been studying much of the old legends. However, before we can move on with the plan, there is something we need to remove from the equation. A gaijin approaches - and in his wake there is much chaos. His heart is burning with strong desires, and he is a bushi with powers not many hold. He has seen the horrors of Jigoku, his heart is full of purpose, love and guilt. He is a man whose passion overrides all else in him, and he is very determined about reaching Kozakura."
- "What does he want?" Itami asked.
- "I would have told you, young one, if only I knew," the old man replied. "But it matters little. What matters is that, according to the prophecies, he is a danger to our plans and them coming to fruition. He is not an ordinary man, and can not be stopped by ordinary means. But there is little question of what needs to be done. He must be destroyed."
Sarevok was dreaming, his huge arm protectively curled around Peri. He could feel a magical power, so strong, causing the very elements of physical reality to become out of joint and shake him. In pain, he turned around and faced a twirling portal in midair. He looked through it, seeing a circle of power. Men and women, their features Oriental, were holding hands and reciting magic, emanating the power, electricity crackling around them. Their eyes were malevolent, and they were dressed in immaculate silken robes. In the middle of the circle stood an old man, with wispy mustache and beady, intelligent eyes.
- "Gaijin," he spoke. "You are riding toward Kara-Tur. Your arrival causes chaos, stirs the spirit world."
Sarevok said nothing, just stared the man down. He could physically feel the malevolence oozing from every word he uttered.
- "Rishi... son of the Celestial Ones," the old man taunted. "I can see the painful marks of utter evil still imprinted in your soul. How they burn! How you try to cease them burning, to turn your desire into being a new man... but the guilt, it will never, ever go." How yellow his teeth were. Like the teeth of a rat.
- "Let them burn," Sarevok said. "I live for a purpose, old man, and your taunts mean nothing to me."
The old man cackled.
- "Whatever, bushi. Go away. This is the only warning you will get. You are not wanted here. Go back to the West, and you may yet live through the times ahead."
- "That can not be done," Sarevok said, regally. "I made a promise to the true love of mine. I will bury her to the land of her ancestors."
- "Forget your promises," the old man said, anger distorting his face.
The vision was gone, and Sarevok could hear an eerie gallop of hollow hooves. A whole army was galloping, but something was off in the sound. He saw a field covered with malevolent chilly darkness of night. The army approaching was riding skeletal steeds, their eyes and nostrils ablaze. The riders wore samurai armor and wielded katanas, but their faces were anguished hybrids of skeletons and zombies. They hissed, approached, malevolent in the madness of their twisted souls.
gaki = a hungry ghost
shiryo = a blessed ancestor
