Disclaimer: I do not own Jackie Chan Adventures.
Betaed by: The awesome Zim'smostloyalservant.
Queen of Shadows
A Jackie Chan Adventures Fanfiction
Written by Eduard Kassel
Created by Nocturne no Kitsune
Betaed by Zim'smostloyalservant
Adopted to Finish what a Friend Began
Summary: Jade's bold gambit of unleashing the terrifying Gani tribe was carried out. And meeting the vanguard of the Shogunate in the Shadows, the terrible Tsume was not only defeated, but sealed into an enchanted mask by the Demon Queller Yasashi Ken. Along with his entire tribe!
However, Jade's goal was not achieved without a price. Stricken by the tribe being torn away, and faced with a strange vision, the young queen of secrets must tread carefully. For even now, the Circle of Generals gathers to answer the challenge that is the downfall of the Gani.
And one can be certain the Shogunate in the Shadows, far from being complacent in victory, has yet to unleash its full power against the Shadowkhan.
Rokudaime
The Generals had apparently delayed until Jade was ready to attend the meeting. So here she was — medicated, cranky, and dolled up, with Koeri's assistance. She hoped any character slips would be dismissed as her being cranky.
Because she was. Like the purple splotches under her makeup, she was presentable but not pleased.
And the frustrating fact was that she should have been. She had won! Not only had she managed to get a Shadowkhan General removed from play, but his entire army of man eaters were off the table. This was what she had wanted. The heroes had won. But instead of having to conceal hidden glee, she felt like eating her weight in eels. And she just felt… down. She wasn't even acting for Koeri and the others, was she?
'Just sickness, Jade. You didn't expect it to hurt,' she assured herself. She massaged her eyelids, recalling that dream. The battered Shadowkhan woman, and that evasive child.
They had all gathered quickly. Jade guessed that the time taken in the past was because magically acquired haste was not called for. But now they were here, and there was a smoldering feel to the air. The Shadowkhan, she understood, were not strangers to defeat, much less difficulty. But this war had so far gone their way, sooner or later. It had not been a game, but a bit like it. They picked their advances, sometimes they met more resistance than expected, but in the end they had been slow because slow suited their plans.
The Demon Quellers, she had learned, were a prime example.
And the priest was talking again.
"-link between all Shadowkhan and the Queen, by which we are all sustained by her. And in the deep past, the Queen could even call Khan over great distances to defend her from peril. Or so the ancient lore claims. This link, it seems, remains inviolate to manipulation. But the lesser link, between the members of a tribe, has been violated, and harnessed. The common thread turned into a galley chain in a sinking ship."
"Do they require a General?" Jirobo asked.
"It seems likely. But, oh great divine nurturer of the shadow-born race, this unworthy one can learn so little from what we have seen. And I fear an inspection of Awaji will yield little, as the enemy will expect us to search," the priest declared, dramatically bowing deep to her. Jade nodded, trying to keep her face stoic against a reflux of some kind in her throat.
Of course, it was hard to sit comfortably. The insect doctors had been more flowery and confusing than usual in not answering her question on why her butt hurt so much. But that was just a dull throb now.
"Are we certain they are not dead?" Kuro asked.
"There is nothing to be sure of. Normally, a massive loss of Shadowkhan life in such order would pull upon Her Divine Majesty greatly. But what she experienced was not death then. And with the link disrupted, she may not sense it. This unworthy one has no assurances to offer. They may be withering to nothing as we speak in Your Divine Presence," he told her, bowing low again.
Jade brought a fan given to her earlier up in front of her face. It didn't stop the horrid belch, but retained some image, she supposed, as an attendant Khan held a bowl under her chin to catch the watery vomit.
She hated this, and the fact they politely ignored the fact she was still sick didn't make her feel better.
"So, what is to be done?" Jade demanded. She had just wanted to sit back and watch them scramble, but she wanted to not feel like she was so helpless her own body could get away with hating her.
Hiruzen rapped his knuckles once on the table, taking all attention to himself.
"General Ikazuki," the Yojimbo said. The samurai bowed slightly in acknowledgement. And Hiruzen rose from his seat, only to bow deeply to the samurai. Jade blinked in surprise, and noted Jirobo was in shock, amidst the other varying but far more poised reactions of the others.
Jade waved her fan to cool her face, interested.
"Ikazuki-san, I admit I have thought your potential limited since your failure in the Tengu trials. While there have been successes since that have made me revise my view of you somewhat, it has always been measured against that assessment. But your intuition revealed to you the threat we should have focused on, and as Yojimbo I ignored it. And thus we have suffered this defeat. I, Hiruzen of the Shinobi, Godaime Yojimbo of the Royalty, offer my apologies, samurai," Hiruzen said.
Ikazuki nodded, and Jade was surprised to see neither shock nor a smug grin on his face. That seemed a tad out of character for the bloodthirsty General.
Hiruzen rose back to his full height.
"As for our course of action. A full military assault, as Ikazuki-san originally proposed, is now sadly a poor course of action. To begin unraveling this enemy, we must learn what they have done, and the fate of our brethren. We do not even know if this sealing is something they can do again, or even if they must come to us or we to them to do it again if they can repeat the process.
"This is a a task for shinobi. And the stakes call for our best. My Queen, in part as atonement for this blight on my tenure as Yojimbo, I ask to be released from personal duty to you in order to end this threat to the Race," Hiruzen said, turning his eyes to Jade.
The fan covered her dropped jaw, but not her eyes. Fortunately, it was an appropriate response anyway.
'So much for gradual escalation. But I can't really offer any counter, can I?' Jade frowned, before speaking.
"We will defer to your judgement in this Hiruzen. Do not fail," she commanded.
Later:
The personal armory of the General of Shinobi was not an ornate series of rooms. Despite the opportunity to make his own mark with the demolition of the former Shinobi fortress and the Sumo seeking clarifications in constructing this fortress, Hiruzen had held to the pragmatism of his predecessors.
He knew some Generals' armories were quite glorious, exhibitions of the power of the tribe and its storied leaders and heroes. Others, like the Gani, nearly neglected it, preferring their own bodies as weapons, to near exclusion of all else.
Even incense burned in some when in use, unlike this place, which smelled faintly of oiled metal and leather. The subtle aromas of well worn wood, and the silent menace of his lanterns' light glinting off rows of jars glass and clay. The jars held death, and suffering in many forms, both grand and subtle.
For the shinobi, it was practical, nothing more or less. Hiruzen was not interested in the most powerful tools; their applications were limited or too valuable to risk when a Queen was not directly threatened. And for a battle, he preferred those tools as familiar as old friends, and the relatively simple tools had been his preferred basis of combat since his days as a genin.
Fully armed, and not weighed down, he took a moment to review. His choice in arms, and if his choice was being influenced by pride.
"Toda," he said, eyes closed. He did not turn to see the Jonin step into sight from behind the rack of fuma shuriken.
"Yojimbo," Toda answered. Hiruzen still did not turn from his inspection of a short throwing dagger, but he heard the other shinobi kowtow, for the intrusion, and likely the words to be spoken.
"Who watches the Queen?" Hiruzen demanded.
"The Four Elites. I come to ask that I accompany you. One may achieve what an army cannot. But one can still be hampered by being merely one if he comes against many. Do you doubt I would die readily for the Queen and Race before hindering your quest?" Toda asked politely.
Hiruzen frowned and sheathed the last weapon.
"You doubt me. We shall discuss your punishment for this lack of respect in your superior when I return."
It was a pity, but Toda was his second and too far below him for that. His loyalty and dutiful nature had been his most notable virtues. Truthfully, as a Shadowkhan, he preferred him to the late Tarakudo, but as a shinobi, Tarakudo had possessed promise of body and mind, if some quirks of spirit Hiruzen had disliked.
Yes, Tarakudo, in time, would most likely have been a worthy heir as General of Shinobi, if not Yojimbo. As it was, the Shinobi tribe seemed destined for a period of mediocrity after Hiruzen under Toda's loyal but uninspired leadership.
X X X
If Jade thought her bodyguard's departure might grant her more privacy, she was quite wrong.
The Jonin and Four Elites were following her around now. She wasn't even sure if Hiruzen had left the Fortress yet. He had ended the meeting saying he was going to make preparations, and these five had fallen in by her. Other than Toda, the other four seemed pretty standard, save for blue sashes marked with a red symbol she did not recognize. She had decided that asking would be a dangerous action.
One even stood watch last night while she slept. It kept her up all night, except for the part she was asleep for because she was tired.
Koeri was still working on her dancing. Jade, for her part, was working on the tea, and the poetry. Reading poetry she wrote to a bunch of super ninjas was just too funny. They even lied, saying they liked the violence. She also noted Koeri's left eye brow twitching at the very mention of Jade's poetry. Heh.
Well, anyway, that brought her here. It seemed that the only place she could avoid being shadowed, in a more blunt sense, was the meditation chamber.
Situating herself on the pedestal thing, she began the breathing rhythm. Lately, going ghostly has become fairly boring. Instead, it was better time spent relaxing away from Shadowkhan and subtly snarky foxes.
Darkness swirled around her in the imagery, and a single blue candle flame burst into being in front of her. Jade continued to breathe, only focusing on breath, the flame, and flowing shadows.
Darkness swirled around her in the imagery, and a single blue candle flame burst into being in front of her. Jade continued to breathe, only focusing on breath, the flame, and flowing shadows.
There was the candle flame that was her, and the shadows cast by it that were also her. This should be cleansing, focusing, but it never had been, really, and it was worse now.
The flame was buffeted by winds unseen and unfelt, and the shadows were swirling in patterns that barely evaded perception.
She was troubled, and that was troubling in itself. Her plan had worked. Tsume and his tribe of horrors were out of play. She should be overjoyed. No more innocents would be ending their lives on the Gani lunch menu.
It could not be about the trauma from that… episode. Sure, sharing this physical chi connection deal meant it had hurt a lot, but she wasn't so selfish as to put a little pain and such higher than the greater good.
She wasn't that bad, was she?
Aggh, useless self-loathing. First she feels guilty for living cushy in the heart of darkness, now she feels guilty for feeling pain. Did puberty hit without permission, was this teen angst?! She had no time for issues with all the other issues.
Stop, breathe, she told herself. The candle came back on, her brow unknitted.
Okay, so something is up. A lot of stuff. We are still lonely and messed up from that, despite the diversions going on. Can't expect it to get better until we get home and can spin this all as just another crazy adventure, just like fighting a demon on the freaking moon.
Ugh, don't think bout the moon. She couldn't glance at the sucker anymore without noting the phase and how long until she had to make more Shadowkhan.
As for the current bad feelings… Hiruzen was on the loose. Tsume had been a great patsy, every bit the dumb brute she had mistaken Ikazuki for. And easily the most deserving of a good ol' "smite the evil" out of the gaggle of horrors in her Circle.
But Hiruzen, he was the A-Lister, the Yojimbo. In a kung-fu movie, if he wasn't the big bad he was their bodyguard or the rival/number one pupil that the hero only fought after beating the mooks, the chief mook, and the quirky miniboss squad.
But no, the Vader was picking his fight with the Luke in New Hope.
This could mess everything up, couldn't it? The Shadowkhan were beaten once; they weren't ruling Japan in her time, after all. But what if she had made like a McFly, and her helping had actually set Hiruzen on his hunt too soon?
He wasn't just strong, he was smart, very smart, and highly skilled. And he had tracked her down so quickly during the Tanuki incident. Oh, and unlike Tsume, who might have been distracted by something, Hiruzen was dedicated to her to the point he might actually be thinking about nothing but his mission while on it.
So that is why she was worried about the shinobi being in Tobe. He might actually succeed.
Very well, that was fine, and perhaps even expected. She was worried for the heroes of Tobe and the innocents they protected.
Snuffing the flame out, she opened her eyes and stretched her arm over her head.
Right then, now for a snack, she decided.
Tobe Castle Town:
Tobe was truly a thriving, bustling port city. Hiruzen had read the reports, but to witness it first hand was something else. The Yojimbo laid flat on a rooftop, hidden within the shadows cast by the peak of the structure. Seeing much while being concealed well from eyes magical and mortal.
He had grown accustomed, he admitted, to the bowed, broken and remade humanity of the Empire. Even the lowly peasants of the city and farmers come from the country carried themselves with the hubris inherent in so many human nations.
Everything had its place in the world, or fell into it. Save humans, it had become clear. They grew, changed, and obscenely, expanded with infuriating ignorance for how improper their actions were. Prowling this thriving center that had so recently been a fairly sleepy, unimportant stronghold port, hammered home the hard and bitter wisdom of the 96th Queen — destroy or break them now, before all advantage is lost, and then we are lost.
And the city was not just thriving. It was swelling, as he had stalked these days, evading its magics and mundane security with the ease and grace that had once earned him esteem as a shinobi of the field. Soldiers, mercenaries from the human wars in the north. Or others, lent out from other houses. The mons he was seeing were those of allies to the Shirogeta clan, but not vassals. Comparatively small numbers. Escorts for delegates, he had learned. He had expected word of some feast for Awaji; humans, like most species, could not resist boasting their victories. But there was too little. No ballad, however drunken, on how it was done.
It was pleasing that even when people spoke of the Shadowkhan being repulsed and a General slain, there was fear hiding between the boldest of words. They knew retribution would come. And they feared whatever magic their precious lord had woven for them would not prevail again.
Valid fears. He would see them come true.
But it was clear the city could tell him little more for all its voices.
And looking from his concealment on the baker's rooftop, he watched a pirate ship he had heard described make port. The Devil of the Inner Sea had returned at last. He would lead Hiruzen to the Daimyo, and answers to his questions. And hopefully die in the process.
Meanwhile, Queen's Plateau:
Jonin Toda watched as the Queen cleaned her lips with practiced grace. A Queen's every motion could be poetry; what in his young days he had assumed often to be exaggeration was fact long laid bare before him. Even her nod as the plates were cleared away and a final cup of tea was poured for her by another of the Elites.
It was in some way beyond perfection.
He could not see, if sense conventionally, the shadow chi she produced. But as with all females, he could not look upon her and not feel he looked upon life rendered into a singular form.(1)
She dismissed the kitsune with a wave, and a certain anxiousness left with the fox woman. Despite her altered appearance, she was no Shadowkhan. No amount of benign charms was a substitute for the instinctive loyalty of son to mother that was the covenant every Shadowkhan man was born to.
He fell into step as the Queen stood and turned to make her way from her hobby room, preparing to retire. She did not acknowledge them with so much as a glance. He hoped that meant her routine was not being altered by their presence.
He had hoped she would play a final song on her tsuchibue as was her habit these last nights. No matter though, his desires were not even second to hers, and right now seeing her safely to bed was the priority.
X X X
Koeri's stone hut was cramped. But not so much it couldn't accommodate her shamisen. It was laid before her as she plucked the strings. Her blue humanoid form had become comfortable enough, the sensation of the curses the Shadowkhan had laid upon her fading, like most chronic ailments.
The brat was troubled. And had shared what troubled her.
Claw-tipped blue fingers danced across the strings, a lilting tune fit for festival, against the grim night beyond her lantern-lit home.
The times were interesting for Nihon, all of it, from the humans to the increasingly hidden supernatural. And it would only become more interesting now, wouldn't it?
Low notes, thoughtful.
What promises would be kept if the world slanted, and which would tumble into ruin? Who would stand firm on their ground, who would fall, and who would change their position to avoid falling? Or change their stance, in order to ascend the altered terrain?
Silence, a snuffed lantern for darkness. Save for two glowing fox eyes, peering thoughtfully at nothing.
And then silence, as a step toward the bed tripped over the instrument. Confused discordant twangs, splintering wood, and cursing that made the shinobi sentry beyond her door glance over his shoulder, unseen eyebrow raised.
Tobe Castle:
It was more than easy to tail the pirate into the castle. Magic was thick in the air, as was the mundane security that had thwarted all spies of all stripes from learning the secrets of Lord Rokutaro. But Hiruzen was the Kami no Shinobi. He went unseen and unknown past all of it. As he watched, a samurai the Yojimbo identified as General Gendo Murakami met with the pirate and escorted him into a secret passage leading downward.
Slipping through that was difficult. But not impossible. And as was so often the case, once past the turtle's shell, came the soft meat. The two were alone now; he could kill them before they knew he was here. And the human magic was not seeking him out anymore. Clearly, they had relied on sheer secrecy in protecting these underground chambers rather than swords or magic.
Typical. He was almost disappointed; the challenge to his skills had been more than a little thrilling after so long. And now it was over without notable fanfare.
But duty to the Queen came first. He would not kill if it was unnecessary. What was needed was information, for the Queen and Circle to weigh, before deciding how and when these humans would all die.
"I trust I will not be kept waiting?" the Pirate King demanded as they finally reached the bottom of the steps. These caverns… had the Shirogeta clan discovered the remains of a preexisting stronghold of some kind, Hiruzen wondered.
"You are well aware that Lord Rokutaro's time is precious. Be grateful he is willing to meet with you while examining our great weapon's recovery from the victory on Awaji," the samurai said. His words were not impolite, but his body language made it clear this samurai detested speaking civilly with a pirate even more than escorting one like an honored guest.
Hiruzen could understand. Service often required civility being wasted on the unworthy.
The wooden, hinged door they reached surprised Hiruzen. Clearly this warranted some security, despite his previous assumptions. He would have handled this slightly differently than the sliding doors. And there was magic here, sacred magic it felt like, but not quite.
He could wait for them to leave, and see what secrets laid within. But if the pirate was reporting, he could receive a debriefing in turn. It was too good an opportunity to let pass.
He took the risk, slipping into the samurai's shadow a second before the motion drew the pirate's eye.
"What is it, Kyouaku-san?" Hiruzen heard General Murakami ask.
"…Nothing. Let us continue. I was not pleased at being recalled. I was promised more carnage."
"You serve as bid, as do we all," the General reminded him, opening the door.
The two passed through, Hiruzen was certain by the motion and what glimpses he could see. A drawback to this technique; one could easily exit a shadow into a cumbersome situation with these limitless senses.
"Welcome back. I am sorry I could not receive you with the others. But as you have made clear, you want the details," a new voice said. The answering bows and words of respect told him. Lord Rokutaro at last.
"This scroll was key. Its ancient wisdom has undone one tribe of the Shadowkhan, and we are already poised to unleash its might once more. Feel free to examine it, gently. Before the sun rises again, we will be ready to eliminate another tribe. General, I believe you have duties to attend."
The shadow he was in was moving away from what he needed. So, it seemed there was no way he could do this truly covertly. They were going to strike soon, and the Empire could not afford that. He would have to settle for killing all present and taking the item. The pouch he had brought with him should bypass any magic repellent to the shadows. And if not, he could try and destroy it instead, and accept whatever consequences it would have for the Gani.
He emerged from the shadow to take the General's head in one smooth motion… Only for his sai to be met with steel. Hiruzen's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the pirate standing next to the General, facing him and parrying his blow.
He had not heard the pirate move.
There were more, Hiruzen realized. He ducked under the blade meant to take off his head and rolled clear.
A stone fell onto the floor. He did not need to turn and see it; the sound, the vibrations, and simple experience told him. The door had been sealed.
He glanced around, seeing the General and the elderly lord take shelter in a nook, the General pulling a curtain glowing with green magic over it. Hiruzen decided a potential wasted move was worth it, throwing a shuriken that, even with the obstruction, he was sure would kill Rokutaro. It ricocheted off the curtain, and the shinobi dodged to his left, away from a chi blast.
A blade reeking of magic, he caught on his sai. He looked up the length of Houka into the grim face of the Demon Queller.
Disengaging, he backed away, watching them converge.
The four humans were advancing in a half circle, and he moved backward at a slower pace, taking the measure. The wizard was the one he should eliminate first. No armor and likely to have more tricks than the rest. But his approach was protected by the Demon Queller.
Gurando Botsuraku, he recognized the giant from reports. A formidable force. The Siegemaster was an imposing sight, for a human, but Hiruzen had faced Ozekis in sparring matches. Still, in a straight up fight and enchanted armor, it would take time to bring Botsuraku down.
The Pirate King was on the other flank, behind the Siegemaster, lightly armored, and his sword was well handled. Also, he had fooled Hiruzen's senses before. Had that deception been Himtsu's work, or some trick of the pirate's?
Too many questions. Curse him for a disgrace, he had been well and truly lured into a trap, hadn't he? No chance for hostages — he would have to settle for killing everyone. Then so be it.
He dodged the two arrows aimed at his back. But in doing so, moved into the path of the third one. It actually bit into his shoulder through the under armor.
And that was the apparent cue for the others to attack.
An archer — his brief glance around the room had indicated high but unbroken walls. Only one archer, highly skilled, he concluded.
Five foes. And the General, while not in the same tier, could certainly enter the fray if he abandoned cover.
He ducked under Houka's swiping blade. The sound of its passing was nostalgic — just how many times had he faced this honorable foe of a weapon? The current wielder twisted around his low counter attack. Releasing one hand from Houka's shaft, she even managed to draw a dagger and deflect his next blow. It seemed she had not only inherited Houka by being the last, he noted.
The giant's blow cracked the floor. It hadn't even been a full overhead strike; superb technique to achieve damage from that angle. Flawed, though, as Hiruzen had not been there to be hit.
Then Hiruzen's left foot stuck to the ground. One glance confirmed the green flow that just barely caught him in its circle on the floor. The second followed a snail's trail worth of magic to where Himitsu crouched, one hand on the floor. The wizard cackled as a chi blast from his bamboo wand knocked aside two shuriken that should have killed him.
Then the pirate was upon him, blade held ready and an empty smile on his face.
One foot adhered to the ground, his opponent skilled and free.
It took six blows to send the enemy's sword flying, and another to throw his own dagger into the retreating pirate's chest. He fell onto the magic trail, breaking the line of enchantment.
A pair of crossed sai caught the Siegemaster's blow. Hiruzen did not stand firm under the force trying to crush him, he bent. Redirected and sent the giant off balance.
Gurando was quite good. He quickly regained his footing despite all that weight. But not enough to get his guard up, to stop a shuriken from burying itself in his neck. The gap in his armor was admirably small, but sufficient for a shuriken to pass through and only be stopped by the spine as it vanished from sight.
It was worth an arrow to the back, Hiruzen thought, as he staggered under the projectile penetrating him.
His next three shuriken cut through the wall; magic and a magnificently stone-painted curtain fluttered and shredded as a well dressed long-bowman fell. No, he caught himself, but his bow fell away as he grabbed the frame of his hiding place. No matter — he was disarmed and dying, ignore it and move on.
Hiruzen turned his attention to the wizard as he deflected a blast of chi with his sai. He stood with the Demon Queller, their stances still confident despite the quick reversal.
"You thought to lock me in here with you? That you had lulled me into a false sense of security by not acting on detecting my presence? Foolish humans, you locked yourselves in with the Kami no Shinobi. Now pay the price for your impertinence," Hiruzen declared.
He let them move, the wizard's wand glowing a pulsing, subtle green. He was not sheltering behind the woman warrior, as one would expect. So, the wizard understood his peril quite well — he knew it was necessary to abandon caution and be bold.
The woman was calm, but there was that hate in her eyes. A steadily banked forge of spite, but that control could slip. But he was not Ikazuki; his own involvement in her people's destruction had been a loose-handed administrative one. Still, human women could have such horrid control over their passions. Provocation was worth a effort.
"Did you think defeating Tsume meant-"
Her sprint was quick, for the poor stance for such movement she started with. She was experienced enough to not try a leap to bridge distance.
Houka's assault was rapid jabs toward his neck and chest. He retreated, no time to leap clear, his sais striking up sparks, deflecting the blade. Some of the sparks held enough of the blade's magic to ignite his uniform slightly.
His feet slipped out from under him, as if he were a genin fighting upon ice the first time in training.
Wizardry. And if she caught him straightening up, he would be skewered the next instant. So he fell hard on his back and dropped his sai. And clapped his hands together over the blade about to skewer his chest.
Oh, it hurt just as much as he recalled, as the magic flared in the blood rushing through him.
Still, he was strong, and as he hoped, her footing was also slick. The predictable chi blast struck the woman's back. Not enough to kill or even seriously hurt a mortal of the wrong species. But enough for him to pull the burning weapon from her grasp and smack her in the side of the head with the shaft.
Houka struck the ground as Hiruzen tossed it aside, she caught herself expertly. And again whipped out the dagger in time to parry a sai. But he had two.
Demon Queller armor was a foul thing, made from bones stolen from battlefields and burial mounds of ancient times. Strong against enchanted weapons even. But this sai was mundane steel, and driven into a logical weak point with the force and skill of the Godaime Yojimbo.
She gasped, and he watched the fire overflow in her eyes as her life leaked away.
The ground was no longer slick. Hiruzen sprang and landed by the kneeling woman. His last sai took her head, and he was moving before it hit the ground. The wizard was calm, waving his wand and chanting.
Hiruzen darted to the left. And the resulting wall of seeking thorn vines sprang up on his former trajectory. The wizard cursed as Hiruzen evaded the flank of the spell, and threw something to the ground, thick smoke reeking of other worlds springing up.
Wise to retreat, fool to think a smokescreen would be effective against a member of the Shinobi tribe. His last shuriken were rewarded with several thunks as they tore through ancient flesh.
Excessive, but wizards warranted thoroughness. Stepping through the dissipating smoke, Hiruzen took a moment to bring his foot down in the dying Knowledge Thief's neck. The crunch of brittle bones… odd how some things never lost their distastefulness entirely. But again, he had learned at his sensei's knees — be thorough and do it again if you can with a wizard.
Now, for Lord Rokutaro.
The curtain hummed, and through the green glow, he watched the General ease his lord back in the alcove, putting himself between the shinobi and his liege. Ikazuki would approve, and as Yojimbo, Hiruzen shared the principal. But in truth, it was only another obstacle.
Hiruzen pulled a lead ball from one of his belts, and rolled it about in his fingers, chanting as the characters on it flickered to red life. This would take care of the barrier. Then it would be little more than a matter of walking.
His timing was, of course, impeccable. It burst into white flame just as it left his hand in a well executed throw… And stopped a hand's breadth from the curtain, to a loud chord of stringed music.
The air rippled, and the ball fell to the ground, flickering and sparking ineffectually on the bare stone. A geta-wearing foot knocked it aside, and the man faded into sight with the rest of it.
"Well, that's a nasty thing. Dangerous, especially for the likes of you to handle. Tsk, like swords, it depresses that people make such things with their time and skills," the man said, shaking his head in rhythm with his music.
Hiruzen took in the man's face, his unkempt appearance, and the music which was now echoing around them.
The Yojimbo took a step back, and took his last sai back out.
"Nonki," he whispered.
"That's right. And you are Hiruzen, the Kami no Shinobi. Not the General of the Shadowkhan to inspire the most terror in the masses, but the informed hold you in utter fear," the musician noted, punctuating his statement with a few dramatic notes.
"Why would you, of all mortals, be involved? Aren't you detached from worldly affairs?" Hiruzen demanded.
"Ahh, fair question. But you don't deserve an answer," Nonki shrugged. He swayed, playing a tidal rhythm as the walls opened with moaning creaks, and a deluge of water washed over them. Nonki and the room vanished, while Hiruzen was swept off his feet.
'No, merely an illusion. My feet are still on stone," Hiruzen insisted, stopping his kicking. A glowing yellow eye opened before him, and a demon squid loomed through the dark murk of the waters.
'Trickery,' he declared. But the blow to his right shin felt real enough.
Sluggish, he tried to counter the pummeling of the tentacles. Nonki, he had to keep playing, so it was likely he was actually kicking him around. This sea and monster only existed in the mind. Through noise. Crouching into a ball, Hiruzen was certain he felt the ground back beneath his feet, and sprang into the air. The squid could follow, but in reality Nonki would not be able to.
He pulled a spell of silence from his belt, a bitten finger to make a hasty blood mark, inversion. A trick no book held, to his knowledge, and only for a personally crafted spell.
The spell activated, and the ocean shattered as reality rushed back, Hiruzen not becoming silent to the world, but the world around them gripped in silence. Nonki was mere paces in front of him, skidding to a stop, head cocked at the sound of silence. Hiruzen lunged, and the musician reflexively parried with his biwa. The instrument mutely fell from his grasp, broken and ruined. Nonki frowned, and kicked Hiruzen in the face.
As the shinobi skidded along the ground, the sound of his own passage alerted him the spell had passed. Rush job, quick burn though of the magic.
"You murdered my biwa. That was rude," Nonki said, strolling toward Hiruzen as the shinobi stood. Those kicks had been powerful; his body was aching. The arrows from before, and even Gurando's caught blow. Attrition tactics. But it was over.
"You lose, Nonki, no more magic music to conceal you."
"Huh? Silly Hiruzen, magic isn't in the instrument. It's in the musician," Nonki chuckled, tilting his hat forward to cover his eyes.
He started to hum, and Hiruzen pulled out another spell scroll.
"Turning off the sound again? You don't need to hear me; the world is my audience, and in its pleasure, it favors my requests," Nonki said in rhythm.
"Don't dawdle!" the daimyo called out from his warded place. Nonki hit a high note, and two balls of fire burst into existence flanking him, the world roaring to his tune as he began to dance to his own beats in a nearly drunken twirl.
Hiruzen activated the spell, calling his bluff. The fire came forward, silent and very real. He was forced to the air, and clearing the fires with his leap, loosed a brace of shuriken at the dancing magic user. He dodged, but to the shinobi's irritation made it look like Hiruzen had simply missed with foolish dancing.
"Enough!" Hiruzen declared, hitting the ground and drawing a lead ball and dagger.
"Mmmm!" Nonki struck a dramatic pose with a loud low note, and part of the floor shot up, striking Hiruzen in the jaw like a slung stone. His vision flashed, and the musician was on top of him. He threw out the ball — unactivated, but still a projectile, and it went through the phantom. The true Nonki was a mere pace behind and safely to the side, holding fire in his right hand, pulled back for a blow. Hiruzen severed the hand and struck him in the face with his fist. Such a blow should kill a mortal.
The illusion broke apart, and something shot over his left shoulder. Blackness, as something was slapped onto his face.
"That was fun. But now you're done," Nonki said.
Queen's Bedchamber:
Jade slept in her stately bed, calm blue face and pooling black hair barely standing out in the barely lit room's color scheme. Then she twitched, her head tossing slightly side to side, even as the layers of blankets held her body in place.
"No, leggo. Ain't my boss," she protested, one arm actually moving enough to be visible under the coverings.
"No lesson!" she protested sleepily. Then her eyes snapped open.
"Auuuhh," she gasped, back arching up and eyes going round and bright in the dark.
The small figure inhaled, back arced and eyes wide, moving as much as circumstances permitted, arms seemingly released from lock. She tried to scratch through the blankets, tearing some fibers on her sharpened nails but only really grabbing some cloth; twitching and convulsing, she finally breathed out as her jaw snapped shut. The breath seemed to whistle like a bull horn in her head.
No one sprang out of nowhere to restrain her before she tumbled out of the bed, knotted up in the blankets and foaming at the mouth in the heart of the palace.
X X X
"Impossible!" Ikazuki yelled. This feeling, it could not be! Bolting up from the meeting with the startled bannermen, Ikazuki rushed through the door — literally, he did not slow to open it or any of the others in his way as he rushed through the corridors, batting aside more than a few Khan who failed to make way.
He was the first on the path to the Queen's plateau, but Sanshobo soon caught up with him. The others he could feel approaching. Jirobo swept through the sky, as Ikzauki ascended the plateau wall with leaps, carving footholds of moments with his blades.
Jirobo was nowhere in sight when he reached the tower, and no shinobi appeared to challenge his uninvited and utterly rude intrusion. The samurai on duty, though, opened the way. His eyes were visible enough to confirm it.
"Toda!?" Ikazuki called, in some vain hope. No answer.
"Hiruzen has failed. And fallen," the High Priest said unhelpfully. The world slanted sharply, yet a samurai was duty bound to stand strong, even if ground turned into water. Ikazuki calmly ascended the stairs, shunning the lift. The others were coming closer now. Kamisori tried to rush past, but Ikazuki grabbed him, tripping him up with the quick catch and release.
"Manners," Ikazuki said, not looking back at the hasty General.
The door to the royal bedchamber had been left open. Jirobo carried the Queen out, resting her head against his upper arm. She groaned loudly and was stained with vomit, the odor horribly clashing with the expensive scents of her oils. But she was not screaming in pain or insensible from tremors. That was something.
They had all arrived, and he saw this divisive Circle, with no one knowing what to say know.
"…This cannot stand," Ozeki said solemnly.
"Sanshobo, the Yojimbo has fallen in battle with no heir named. Who shall be the Nanadaime?" Kamisori demanded.
"Her Most Divine Majesty, beautiful even in her time of suffering, in the absence of a Yojimbo to advise, shall be the one to choose alone," the priest solemnly declared.
The Queen groaned in answer, and closed her eyes.
"Send out a call, to every officer of merit. When the power of the Shadowkhan is gathered, I shall choose," she declared.
It had the feeling of a dismissal, and she did not object as the others began to drift away. Ikazauki lingered, watching Jirobo surrender her to Sanshobo's arms as Kamikiri healers started to approach, bowed in deference to the departing generals.
It would not be until he was back in his quarters, writing urgent dispatches, that he would realize his long-cherished ambition may soon be in his grasp. Rising from his desk, he pushed open his office's window and watched the sun begin to rise. Had a sun rise ever filled him with this feeling?
"Ozeki is right. This cannot stand," he said.
X X X
Yasashi winced as Himitsu waved his wand over her. He had warned that such rapid healing would leave worse scars in exchange for full recovery of the muscles and such. As if she was some maiden with pristine courtly skin.
"You did not make it easy," Nonki said. He sat off to the side from where the other fighters had been assembled, recovering. He had gotten a large sake gourd from somewhere, and was taking pulls while tossing the mask of Hiruzen in his other hand.
"We tired him for you. And had I fallen from that height, I might have actually died despite you hypnotizing him," Rosuto scowled.
"And it was no easy task to change his perception enough to make him think he had killed you all instead of just badly wounding you."
"I still don't see why you couldn't just fight with the rest. I am not some lowly foot soldier to be sacrificed for the plan," Gurando rumbled. His left fist was opening and closing; Himitsu had dealt with him only briefly before handing him some oil to rub into the wounds.
"Well, it seemed like this might actually work, rather than fighting him by fighting him. And either it did, or he's even better at hypnotizing me than I am others. Have you ever wondered if life is all a dream you might be having? I did once, but then realized, I wouldn't dream this, so either it's real, or it's someone else's dream," Nonki concluded.
"Nonki-san, the mask," Lord Rokutaro finally spoke up. He had been standing near the musician with the General, waiting to be noticed. He wondered how much that irritated the daimyo. But Nonki had just won an immense victory — as far as he was concerned, he could be irritating if he wanted. Even to a daimyo.
Nonki blinked and turned to face the Lord as if only just now noticing him, and tossed the mask to him. The elderly Lord made a rather undignified noise as he briefly struggled to catch it, the General taking a step toward him.
Then he held it up in his hands. The mightiest of the Shadowkhan, and the tribe that had planted spies and assassins across Nihon. All wiped away, and ready to be subverted against their kin.
"You owe me a new heike biwa, by the way," Nonki said, getting up and stretching.
"I will feast you tonight," Rokutaro said, not taking his eyes off the prize.
"No thanks, never cared for the formality and rich people food. But if you want to treat me, I'll take a bag of gold and get a great time in town. But for now, I think a nap and some of your best sake," Nonki yawned and scratched himself on his chin and… other places, before waking out with some kind of bizarre graceful slovenliness.
Well, if nothing else, he had proven why he was tolerated.
Himitsu had already moved the stone enough for anyone who wasn't Gurando to leave, but Nonki seemed to find it not quite enough, and with a few sung notes sent the stone rolling back into its former position. His departure let a good deaf tension out of the air she had not fully appreciated.
"That man is too dangerous," Rosuto muttered, likely thinking no one could hear.
Gurando rumbled in his chest, pulling his kabuto off again to massage his scalp.
Himitsu… she met his eyes, and he seemed amused, judging by the tug on the wrinkles around his lips.
The pirate sat, unmoving. He had stripped down half naked to be tended, and had not budged since. With his eyes closed, she might have thought he was dead, if not for the rise and fall of his manly chest.
Blushing a bit, she looked away, and noticed the General and daimyo leaving.
"General Murakami," she called, getting to her feet. The General turned while the Lord paused and glanced back. Rokutaro smiled in that lordly way of his.
"Of course. Forgive us the oversight, noble Demon Queller; the need has passed, after all," he said, and continued on his way. The General came to her and pulled the pouch off his belt, holding it with only two fingers, frowning as he watched it dangle. She took it and pulled the black mask of the Gani out.
"A foul thing. I am glad to be rid of it," he stated. He gave her a look as she ran her thumb over it, but she took no real notice.
This trophy of her own great victory over her ancestral enemies… just holding it made her feel more ready for the next battle.
'A foul thing,' he had said. Yet again the old samurai's vision was narrow, and facing the wrong way. It was a glorious reminder of what they had accomplished. And would yet achieve. And he treated it like a plague rag that was better burned.
Yes, Yasashi Ken thought, holding the mask, not watching the General follow his lord. It was only the beginning of the ruin of the Shadowkhan, and the rise of a new power.
Vengeance would only be the beginning.
1). Toda is referring to Shadowkhan females specifically here.
Author's Note: Well that thwarted gradual escalation, and now things are well and truly a mess. But I think I still have some surprises up my sleeve for this story as Jade continues to try and navigate this war for dominion and survival.
Hope you enjoyed it and see you next time, hopefully soon on whichever story gets the next tap of inspiration.
Long days and pleasant nights to you all dear readers.