I honestly can't believe what's happening. I've been traveling for about a week through the mountains of the Land of Iron on the back of Granny's demon horse. The trip had been entirely unremarkable. I'd done a much better job getting ready for this camping trip than I had for my first one back in England, so I was well fed and comfortable. Several nights I got invited to stay in the camps of large trade caravans moving around the country. I'd have been more nervous about that, but they frequently had entire families staying with them, and it was a little harder to think they were slavers in disguise when there were six or seven other kids my age running around with them.

So a week of being a five year old girl, traveling by myself, with no problems whatsoever.

Now I'm less than a day from the capital and I'm being held up and robbed. On a highway.

I'm on a mountain road, nicely maintained. On my left is a fairly steep, rocky slope covered in patches of snow and leafless shrubs. To my right is a sheer drop down an exposed slab of granite ending in a fast moving rock-filled river. About twenty-five feet in front of me is a spot where I can just see the road vanishing around a bend into the mountain side. A bend that five men have just stepped around.

All of them have swords, two have bows with arrows nocked. Pointed at the ground right now, but if I try to flee back the way I came? Standing in front of the group is a scruffy looking man wearing poorly repaired leather armor, with his dirty brown hair up in a messy topknot.

"Well, well, well, look at what we have here, boys! A little un, all by 'er lonesome. That's just tragic, that is." I grimace slightly. I'd smelled them coming for the last twenty minutes with how the wind is blowing, I just didn't connect 'unwashed men' to 'bandits', given how the rest of my trip had gone. "It's dangerous for a little girl to be out all by herself. Fortunately, you've encountered us, fine upstanding gentlemen," he puffs out his chest as the four behind him chuckle, "who will be happy to help you."

"Yeah... no thanks," I say flatly, "Now kindly move out of the road."

The man's smile dimmed, "Now don't be like that. We just wanna help. Why don't you get down off that horse, and we'll see what we can do for ya?" I give him a deadpan look. "Fine. I tried to be nice about it. Juurou, get the brat off her horse."

I'm not really nervous for a couple of reasons. First, while I may be a five year old girl, thus at a serious disadvantage in any physical conflict, I'm also telekinetic, and there is a very conveniently placed long drop. So unless they've got somebody who's managed to hide from me, which I doubt, they're not really much of a threat to me.

The other reason, though, is about to solve all of this for me. In addition to the smell of unwashed men for the last twenty minutes, I've also been smelling horses, steel. A lot of horses and even more steel. And for the last ten minutes I've been able to hear the sound of maybe two dozen mounted men getting closer. The group of what I'm hoping are samurai, dismounted just a few minutes ago and have been approaching much more quietly since. Not quietly enough to avoid my hearing, but evidently enough to avoid the bandits'. So I'm the only unsurprised one on the road when a dozen people in lacquered armor come around the same bend that the bandits had been hiding behind.

"See, captain?" one of the helmeted figures says, "I told you they were lookouts."

The lead bandit turns slowly to look at the well armed and armored squad of soldiers. I can't see it, but I like to think he's paling. The other bandits are trying to make themselves look less threatening, which is a neat trick, since they were trying as hard as they could to look more threatening just moments ago.

The archers aren't quite pulling it off.

"Well, you were bound to be right, eventually." Another of the samurai, in fancier armor and a lower face mask of snarling fangs and tusks, the captain evidently, mutters and steps forward. "What's going on here?"

"Just... giving the girl some directions?" the lead bandit says. He's probably trying to sound confident, instead it just sounds like he's grasping at straws.

"Right," the lead samurai says, doubt thick in his voice, "Girl!"

I straighten up slightly in my saddle, and have to rein in Granny's horse slightly to keep him from fidgeting, "Yes?"

"Are you getting directions? Or is this exactly what it looks like?"

"Well... if you think it looks like five armed men robbing a five year old girl, then yeah, it's exactly what it looks like."

"Right. Get them," the samurai in charge says, pointing at the bandits.

The dozen well armored men rush past him to start securing the bandits. The lead bandit spins on his heel and rushes in my direction.

What does he think he's...?

The bandit skids to a halt even with my horse and reaches up to pluck me from the saddle. Instead, I kick him in the head with all the strength my size, troll muscle, and five years of vampiric enhancement will grant me. His nose explodes in a fine spray of blood and he staggers backwards clutching his face and howling.

A moment later the lead samurai is on him. The armored man grabs the bandit by his slightly rotting chest piece and executes a textbook hip throw. The bandit hits the ground hard enough to knock the wind out of him, which can't have been pleasant with the broken nose I gave him.

"Somebody come and collect this refuse," the samurai captain shouts, and two of his subordinates almost teleport to his side to roughly secure the bandit leader. Shaking his head, the samurai captain removes his mask, and then his helmet. He's a man in his late teens or early twenties. His hair is hidden under a dew cloth, but his short, well-maintained goatee indicates that his hair is black. He tucks his helmet under one arm and gives me a short bow with a smile, "I am Captain Mifune. Are you alright, Miss...?"

I smile back at him, "Ericka Rhostana. And I'm fine, we'd just gotten past the part where they make demands when you showed up."

The samurai blinks at my name, and I can see him taking in my exotic features and coming to conclusions, "Ninja clan refugee?"

I shake my head, "I was born in Iron. In a mining town wedged between two peaks about a week's ride that way." I wave a hand in the direction I came from.

"And why are you on the road alone?" Captain Mifune asks.

"My Granny died." To his credit, Mifune's expression doesn't change, but I can smell a hint of sympathy enter his scent, "She gave me letters to deliver to various people in the capital."

"I see," he nods slightly. He takes a moment to glance at the rest of his men, making sure that they're still working like they should be, then he turns back to me, "Well, we are returning to the capital ourselves. It might be best if you came with us. As you can see," he waves a hand at where his men have finished securing the bandits, "the roads aren't exactly safe right now, with the war bandits are everywhere."

I blink, war? How do I not know about a war?

On second thought, Granny was basically a hermit, living in a very isolated village, and I'm five. I've had few chances to overhear gossip, and most people wouldn't tell a five year old about something like that anyway. Especially since I can't think of any war that ever made it past Iron's borders, except maybe the fourth, so it's not like they needed me to be prepared to flee or anything.

"I can hardly disagree with you, Captain," I tell Mifune, "I'd love some traveling companions. People on the road have been generous on occasion, but traveling by myself isn't easy." And it isn't. No matter how prepared I am, I'm still five. Sometimes that's hard to get around.

Captain Mifune nods, "Good. Follow us then, we'll rejoin the rest of the patrol on the main road."

There's a main road? Then what the hell have I been on?

###

The main patrol of samurai numbers fifty men and women, and traveling with them has put me in something of a quandry. Watching spars between samurai nearly has me salivating, the breadth of technique on display is incredible. On the other hand, it seems that the only way to get access to these techniques is becoming a samurai myself. Which is the same as joining the Iron army. Which means following orders, and I really don't like being told what to do,

For the moment, though, I can set these concerns aside and watch the show.

Two young samurai are sparring against each other under the watchful eye of a senior samurai. Their katana clash against each other with incredible speed. Sparks and flares erupt every time their swords clash. Subtle changes of positioning and footwork, and several interesting grappling techniques using the sword's hilt as a lever make up the highlights of the physical bout. Almost as interesting is the manipulation of mana around the swords. Clearly another entire body of technique that I might want, even more than just the physical swordsmanship.

Vivain had said that Sclamhaire, in addition to feeding me mana, would be an excellent focus and conductor of my own energies. I've just never had any techniques or skills to take advantage of that before now. But right in front of me is something that seems almost tailor-made for just that purpose... if one ignored the completely different energy I use, and how that might alter the technique.

Okay, so maybe it isn't perfect, but it's certainly a great start.

Without taking my eyes off the spar in front of me, I address the man that had quietly come up next to me, "How does one go about becoming a samurai?"

Mifune glances down at me, before turning back to the spar in front of us, "Recommendation. Either from a senior samurai of good standing and record, by a highly ranked noble, or by someone sufficiently highly placed in the Daimyo's court." I wonder if Granny's letter to the Daimyo would count? "Do you think you might wish to be a samurai?"

"Maybe. I don't really like being told what to do, but it might be worth it," I tell him.

I get a snort in reply, "At least you're honest. Very well, let us see what you can do." Mifune steps forward, "Daichi, you've died at least three times since I've been standing here. You're done. Midori, give the girl your sheath."

The two samurai I've been watching break apart and bow to each other, the male samurai grimacing and the female looking smug. Then, as ordered, they vacate the area in the middle of the camp set aside for practice. The female samurai hands me her sheath with a wink, at the same time Mifune draws his sword and hands it to the senior observer, leaving himself with only his own sheath.

"Come," the samurai captain waves me forward with his sheath.

How the hell did I end up in this position?

I take the sheath the female samurai, Midori, handed me in both hands and move into the practice yard. It's too heavy to be hollow wood, so it's likely reinforced with steel. Which means I don't have to worry about breaking it. I settle myself into a basic stance, both hands on the sheath and its 'point' aimed directly at my opponent's eye, and take a moment to examine the samurai across from me.

He's taken a very relaxed pose, one foot in front of the other, like it should be. His sheath is gripped in one hand, the 'flat' of his weapon laying across his forward thigh, the 'blade' crossing his body. It's an incredibly relaxed posture, one meant to be a ready stance without looking like it. He's a captain of the Iron army, and I think I remember his name from somewhere. I don't remember where though, or in what context, so I'll just assume he's a badass. Which means he earned his rank the hard way, that being many fights with many opponents, at least some of them probably ninja. So he's fast, probably faster than I can manage, stronger too just by virtue of our age difference. But not as much as he expects, thanks to my own biological advantages. More importantly, though, he's looking at me like a five year old girl that he's humoring. He doesn't expect me to know anything about the sword, and while not disregarding me completely, not really considering me a threat either.

I take a deep breath and resist the urge to spread my wings. I still can't fly with them yet, but they'd let me move significantly faster even so. Not the time for that reveal, though. Instead I send myself rocketing forward with pure muscle power, thrusting forward at his face. Which is a stupid move given my height, but exactly what he'd probably expect from me.

His sheath snaps upwards, a rotation of his elbow and wrist powering the block. But instead of meeting his weapon, I cut downwards under his block, and smack him in the thigh. A moment later I drop to one knee to duck under his reflexive counter-slash, and pull my weapon across my body before freezing. Mifune stills as well, looking down at where I have my sheath in perfect stabbing position, aimed at his crotch.

The captain is looking at me a little wide eyed, "You are... very fast. And have handled a sword before."

I move my sheath away from its threatening position and stand, stepping back from him, hesitating. After a moment I straighten, looking him in the eye, "I am, and have," I agree with him. I don't really see any point in hiding it. Unlike in DxD, demonstrating skill here can only be to my advantage. Getting rid of the instinct to hide may be a little bit difficult, but it's something that needs to happen.

Mifune nods, "Again?"

"Again!" I agree with a big smile. I'd just gotten my freebie. Mifune wouldn't underestimate me again.

So let's see if I can win a real fight.

###

The answer is no, I can't.

Well, sort of.

Being five sucks.

Mifune isn't Ku good, but he might be Mia good. Which is impressive as hell, but should also mean that I can keep up with him, more or less. And I do fairly well, but it's hard to get past the reach, strength and speed advantage he's got on me. Being fully grown and all.

Bastard.

Losing to Mifune doesn't stop me from winning against other less skilled samurai, and learning a lot from both watching and fighting. I've never used a katana before, so learning the differences and specific tricks for it is extremely useful, as I'll be stuck with one until Sclamhaire finishes healing.

It's an interesting sensation, feeling all of my artifacts regrowing in my soul, useful too. I'm pretty sure that once they're finished I'll be able to call them to hand without too much trouble. That healing is just taking a while. My athame should be done first, then my bag, then Sclamhaire, and my armor last. Which is fine really, I don't think I'm big enough to wield Sclamhaire right now, never mind wear my armor.

I find myself glad that my artifacts are the only things coming back slowly though. If my healing wasn't working at full throttle, riding would probably be far less comfortable. Especially since Mifune makes it a point to go several rounds with me every time we pause in our trip. I would have so many bruises...

Finally, though, we're arriving at the capital.

The capital of the Land of Iron is built into a high mountain valley. The mouth of the valley is walled off by a forty foot high wall made of blocks the size of those used in the pyramids of Egypt back on earth. The approach to it is clear of anything but gravel and the paved main road for at least a thousand feet from the wall.

It's impressive as hell... but in a world of ninja and demons and who knows what else, a strong, tall wall is the next best thing to useless. I mean, ninja can run over it, or jump it, or some of them can probably just fly over it. Which doesn't even address what a tailed beast would think of it. If they noticed it, a tailed beast bomb would erase it without even slowing down.

Not to mention there seems to be nothing to stop somebody from climbing over the ridgelines bracketing the city and just walking in. Sure, somebody trying that would be incredibly obvious during the day, but at night or with ninja magic that wouldn't be a problem

No way are the people of Iron so dumb as to rely on just this one wall alone.

So I play a hunch.

For the first time since I left Granny's, I direct my mana to my eyes. Carefully. I don't know that pushing too much mana into the delicate organs will make them explode again. But it doesn't seem like an unreasonable theory, and my eyes have exploded twice in my life already. I feel no need to make it three.

So I slowly increase the amount of mana going to my eyes until something almost seems to... click, and the world changes. Like I'd just taken off a pair of tinted glasses, the world is both unchanged and completely different. Colors aren't brighter, but they're more obvious. My attention is dragged to spots around us, there's a place where a lizard lies motionless and camouflaged, trying to go unnoticed as us giants ride by. Various other places catch my attention in similar ways, though I can't tell why, just that there's something there.

I glance over to where one of the samurai is bragging about his horse training skills to one of his female colleges, and the moment my eyes land on him I know he's lying. There's no doubt in my mind, no possibility of being mistaken. It's so obvious that for a moment, I can't understand why nobody else seems to be able to tell.

Eye of Truth, huh.

Yeah, I can work with this.

I turn back to the wall, my superior distance vision letting me pick out details while still a good distance away. I'm both surprised and not. I'm not surprised that the walls are covered with invisible writing. I study it as we ride closer, what I'm looking at is fascinating.

It's not Script, but it's similar, and has a similar feel, like how written Chinese and Japanese would feel similar when put next to each other. Still different, though. For one thing, Allspeak works on it. For another, with Allspeak working, I can tell that whatever this is, it's not a narrative. It reads more like the kind of programming language I expected Script to be when I started.

The other surprising thing is the thin film of what I'm betting is chakra that covers the valley the capital is built in, like a soap bubble. It even has the oily, rainbow sheen drifting fluidly across it like a soap bubble.

I bet it's tougher than a soap bubble, though.

There's a short line at the gate of people with carts filled with various goods waiting to get into the city. Each cart and group of people gets a once over from the guards stationed at the gate. A few of the guards are asking questions of the people and noting down their answers, while at the same time another pair of guards hold the leashes of a pair of dogs, walking them around each cart.

I'm kind of impressed that Iron has dogs well trained enough to do this. It's the sort of thing I'd expect from Konoha, what with the Inuzuka being there and all, but not here. Though come to think of it, I don't recall dogs being employed for anything but tracking and close combat in canon.

Another virtue of being with the samurai is made quickly apparent as we ride right past the line and are waved into the city with nothing more than a glance from the guards. Interestingly, the guards glance at the horses, not the samurai riding them. Which is odd.

Moments later we're through the thick wall and into a large plaza that seems to serve as an open-air marketplace. Probably also a staging area for troops in the event of an attack.

Before I can really get too caught up in looking around, Muifune turns to me, "Well, this is where we part ways, Miss Rstana." I manage not to wince at the butchering of my name. Whatever they speak here in the Elemental Nations isn't Japanese, but it's not English either, and my name seems to be difficult for them to pronounce the first few times they try. Or more than the first few, in Mifune's case. I don't hold it against him though, if not for Allspeak, I'd be struggling as well.

I nod at him with a smile, "Thank you for the escort, Captain." Even if I didn't really need it, traveling with the samurai had been enjoyable. So many new sword techniques to try! "Before you go though, maybe you could point me in the right direction for my deliveries?"

Mifune nods with a smile of his own, "If I can."

"I need to find the Daimyo's palace."

Mifune's face goes blank. "You are to deliver your messages to the palace?" he asks carefully. I nod. "Might I see this message?" I don't see why not, so without a word I pull the letter to the Daimyo out of my saddle bag with a little bit of effort, and hand it to the samurai. He takes the scroll and examines the bit of pressed wax that holds it shut. After examining it for a moment he hands the scroll back to me with a sigh. "It seems that we are not parting ways just yet. Come, we will see you to the Daimyo."

Oh good. I really wasn't sure how I was going to get in to see the local feudal Lord anyway.

I doubt breaking in would go over well.

###

The Iron capital is actually pretty spectacular. The bleak and rocky environment surrounding the city led me to expect a bleak and austere city. What I get is something very different. First is the temperature. Iron is exactly what one would expect weather-wise for a high mountain country far north of the equator. The city however is very warm, it feels almost tropical really, though that could just be contrast. The city buildings look like they're carved out of the mountain, the entire city a single piece of stone. Every surface is covered in complex decorative carvings and painted bright cheerful colors. Warm reds and oranges, bright blues and yellows, and vibrant greens cover everything. And since the paintings and carvings apparently aren't enough decoration, thick, heavy tapestries cover doorways, windows, and are just stretched across the streets, hanging like flags.

The buildings themselves aren't what I'd expected either. Instead of simple square blocks, the buildings are made from graceful curves and sweeping lines. Gardens and trees are everywhere, built into the sides of buildings as flower boxes, and lining the streets supporting the tapestry flags. It gives the city a bright feel that's matched by the people. The civilians inside the warmth trapping barrier wear light, brightly colored clothing, a radical change from the dully colored, heavy, leather and wool garments I saw on the way here.

And then there's the water. Raised aquifers and canals cover the city, traveling everywhere and emptying into fountains and cisterns in artificial waterfalls. Combined with the trapped heat, the humidity is a pleasant change from the dry, cold air outside the city. The canals all originate from two huge artificial lakes at the top of the valley, bracketing the Daimyo's palace. Which are in turn fed by two waterfalls that flow from high up the Palace, which is carved directly into the mountain forming the back of the valley the city is tucked into.

The other thing that strikes me is the attitude of the locals towards the samurai. There's no awe or fear. There is a huge amount of respect, though. People quickly move out of the way of our horses, with no sign of any sort of resentment. Instead they wave and call out welcomes. One child wearing a bright green tunic and a vibrantly red hat that makes them look like an unusually mobile flower, manages to escape his mother and tries to reach us in a stumbling run. One of the samurai on the outside of our formation stops his horse so as to not run over the kid, but nobody seems upset about any of it.

The palace itself is like the rest of the city, only more so. The carvings are finer, and instead of paint, mosaics make up the bright decorations. The tapestries are made of more delicate, and I assume, more expensive, fabrics.

Honestly, by the time we stop at the palace stables and dismount to head inside, I'm beginning to be overwhelmed by the busyness of everything. Details become harder to pick out, instead getting lost as my brain is overwhelmed by the sheer amount of input. I only just manage to remember to take my saddlebags with me when I hand over Granny's horse to the stable hands.

The palace hallways pass me in a blur, and the next thing I know I'm being led by Mifune into a large hall. At the far end of the hall, and the first thing that one sees entering the hall, is a brightly decorated throne carved from stone, and the elderly man resting on it. Lush carpets cover the floor, and tapestries hang on the walls. In between the tapestries, and standing behind the throne, are samurai guards in black lacquered armor covered in gold filigree, carrying polearms in addition to their swords. A number of even more richly dressed men and women fill the hallway speaking quietly. Nobles, I assume.

My eye is drawn to the man in a simple, though finely made, white robe standing next to the throne. From Granny's descriptions, and the way he smells somewhat familiar, my guess is that he's Granny's middle son, the one who inherited her gift, and took her place in the Daimyo's court.

As Mifune advances through the mildly filled throne room, the nobles move out of his way and examine the two of us with interest. A few yards from the throne he halts and kneels.

I hesitate for a moment, suddenly wishing I'd paid more attention to Granny's stories about the intricacies of the Daimyo's court. Specifically, her mentions of proper etiquette, what few there were.

Oh well, I'm a five year old girl who's very cute. As long as I look like I'm trying I can get away with screwing up until I figure out what I should actually be doing. So for the moment, I decide to imitate Mifune, and kneel.

The tittering from the surrounding nobles and the smile on the Daimyo's face tell me that I've guessed wrong about what my proper action would be, but nobody minds. I probably look pretty adorable trying to imitate the samurai next to me.

After a moment, the older man on the throne speaks, his voice aged, but still filled with strength. It honestly kind of reminds me of James Earl Jones' voice. Deep, clear, and powerful, "Captain, given your undamaged armor and no announcement of an emergency, I assume there were no problems on your patrol."

"No, my Lord, a small group of bandits off the main road, but otherwise no trouble," Mifune replies without raising his head.

"Then who is this you've brought before us?" the Daimyo asks, turning in my direction. Sonar hearing is awesome for keeping track of things without having to look at them. Makes it easy to watch things while still being polite.

"Her name is Ericka Rhostana." He pronounces my name slowly, making sure to get every syllable right for the Daimyo, "She has a letter for you, my Lord. I looked at the scroll, and it bears the seal of the previous Truth Sayer." The man-in-white's mana grows agitated, though his expression doesn't change.

"Indeed? Well then, we should take a look at that." At the Daimyo's words one of the samurai standing next to his throne advances towards me. I hurriedly dig through my saddle bags again for the correct letter, which I hold out to the samurai when he arrives.

The samurai takes the scroll, examines it for a moment, then carries it back to the throne. He hands it to the man in the white robe though, instead of the Daimyo. I take a chance and look up in time to see the man take the scroll. The whites of his eyes bleed to black, the way I saw Granny's eyes do the few times I saw her use her dōjutsu, as he examines the wax holding the scroll closed.

After a moment his eyes return to normal and he hands the scroll to the Daimyo. "The seal is genuine, and my mother's. The only things hidden by the scroll are its contents, and I see no chakra to indicate that any sealing has been used on it."

The Daimyo nods absently as he breaks the wax and examines the contents. His generally cheerful demeanor fades as he reads, fading into a resigned sadness as he reaches the end. With a sigh he hands the letter back to his Truth Sayer, "You may want to gather your siblings, it seems you have choices to make."

The Truth Sayer reads the letter quickly, his dōjutsu activating again. Halfway through he staggers slightly, catching himself on his Lord's throne. The Daimyo doesn't seem to mind.

"Choices, yes." He takes a deep shuddering breath, "With your leave, my Lord. Captain, Miss, the two of you will have to come with me."

Damnit Granny, what did you tell them about me?

I guess at this point I have no choice but to trust her.

At least doing that has worked out for me so far.