Long ago in a distant land, I, Aku, the shape-shifting master of darkness, unleashed an unspeakable evil. But a foolish samurai warrior, wielding a magic sword, stepped forth to oppose me.
Before the final blow was struck, I tore open a portal in time, and flung him into the future, where my evil is law.
Now, the fool seeks to return to the past, and undo the future that is Aku.
~***~
Prologue
The dragons did not like the cold air this far up, and neither did their riders. Kez shivered under his layers of fur clothing and wondered why he always got the most unpleasant jobs. But when you get an order from the Seer, you can't exactly refuse.
He and Madri were circling close to the summit of Mount Fatoum, searching for someone. The winds at the summit were too tricky for flying, but as the Seer had told them, they would not need to go that far up. They would find him a little below the summit, where it was still safe (although not very) to fly.
"Down there!" Madri's shout startled him. He looked to see her pointing down at something on a wide ledge. Kez stopped circling the mountain and directed Maktuu, his dragon, to fly in small circles near the ledge his companion had indicated. He looked carefully for a few moments, but saw nothing. Then his eyes caught sight of something dark against the white snow.
"I'll check it," Kez called. "Don't drop the gondola until we're sure." Zorka, Madri's dragon, was carrying a large wood-and-hide basket suspended from long wooden handles that she gripped in her claws. With it, a dragon could carry a sick or injured person through the air; if Madri was not mistaken, they had just found such a person on the ledge.
Kez directed Maktuu to a careful landing on near the dark object. He unbuckled his straps and slid off the dragon's back. He sank into the snow nearly up to his knees, and was glad for his high boots.
He pushed his crystal goggles up onto his forehead as he approached what he hoped was the object of his mission. Upon getting closer, he was glad to discover that it was indeed what he and Madri were looking for – the dark thing was hair, long and loose and tangled, belonging to an unconscious man half-buried by snow. Kez knelt, brushed the snow off the man and turned him over onto his back.
If the man's hair had not been black, or long as it was, they might have missed him – his skin was fair (though also rather blue, now) and the tattered white robe that he wore blended into the snow from a distance. Kez signaled to Madri, and she returned the signal before flying Zorka over the ledge. Her dragon dropped the gondola neatly onto the snow before swooping upwards again. Kez heaved the unconscious man over his shoulder and brought him to the gondola, then gently put him down on the ground beside it. He undid the wide straps inside the basket and arranged the furs within. He then took the scabbarded sword that his charge was wearing (it wouldn't be safe in the gondola), and placed him into the basket. Kez wrapped the man in furs, secured the straps and went back to Maktuu.
His mount regarded him curiously as he buckled the sword to his saddle. "That's a funny-looking sword," the dragon remarked. Then he turned his head to look at the gondola. "Did he really climb all the way up the mountain?"
"Apparently so," Kez answered simply. He put his goggles over his eyes again, then swung himself onto Maktuu's back and directed him to the precipice. The dragon jumped and fell a short distance before snapping his wings open and pumping them in order to ascend. Kez watched as Zorka swooped over the ledge again, neatly snatching the gondola as she did so.
"Time to go home," Kez shouted gladly. Madri nodded, and the two of them directed their dragons into a descending glide. Soon they would be back at the Stronghold, and Kez would make use of a roaring fire and some spiced wine to take the chill from his bones.