Disclaimer: I do not own Jackie Chan Adventures.
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 peril grows ever deeper. The kitsune clan reveals its true plan, to trade her to the wizard Himitsu who covets her life, in exchange for being freed from his thrall. The wizard accepts the deal and Jade endures agony at his hands as he discovers his own folly in understanding the Queen of Shadows.
Even as the Shadowkhan reap terrible vengeance on the kitsune, they prove unable to rescue their Queen. For the Shogunate in the Shadows ruthlessly killed their own wizard to secure Jade for their own plots, and now she is imprisoned under Tobe itself.
As the Shogunate braces for the coming wrath of the Shadowkhan, the Circle of Generals was forced to appoint a new Yojimbo to lead them in this crisis. To the shock of the Circle, General Ozeki casts a deciding vote elevating Ikazuki to the highest office.
Now as Jade endures imprisonment, watched over by an ancient horror beneath the Shirogeta Clan's castle, total war is about to be unleashed!
Specters of the Past, Fears of the Future
"Yojimbo, was there something else you needed of me?" Ozeki asked, bowing his head as Ikazuki entered his office.
"Why did you do that?" Ikazuki asked. It took more effort than he liked to admit to keep his tone even.
"I take it you mean your elevation to the office you now hold?" Ozeki asked, pouring two cups of tea as Ikazuki took a seat across from him.
"Of course, General Ozeki. Would you care to explain your actions?" Ikazuki replied, still barely managing to keep his tone.
For a moment, Ikazuki was certain the Sumo General would inquire if that was an order. But as he moved the teacup for Ikazuki to accept, Ozeki answered.
"General Kamisori asked me a similar question. Rather less tactfully."
"Understandable, if unbefitting his office. He placed a great prize in your reach, forsaking personal ambition. Lesser slights have led to lifelong vendettas."
"Fortunately he is not so foolish as those you speak of. But he must have his time to blow his wind. As to both questions, I saw you elected to the office of Yojimbo because I believe that was the best course."
Ikazuki stared at him, searching for some hidden motive or meaning. Ozeki seemed to take the silence as a prompt to speak on.
"I am stronger than you. In single combat, I think I would best any of the Circle save possibly Hiruzen. Though perhaps we gave his strength too much weight in light of his apparent defeat," Ozeki stated, "But what we need is not a great fighter, but a warrior and commander. Only you and Jirobo, I think, are truly adept outside your singular fields. At least to the degree that it is acceptable to risk the fate of our race on your shoulders. And to be honest, between you and he, you I trust most to put the Queen's safety before all things. Jirobo, for all his virtues of consideration and innovation, is compulsively drawn to a destiny that revolves around himself. Never a traitor, but a treacherous lower nature even to himself. For good or ill, you are the unwavering samurai. And I choose to trust in your bushido over his mind. Make me regret the choice, and I will kill you."
"Hmm, see that you do," Ikazuki nodded. They finished the tea in silence, and Ikazuki excused himself.
That was the great riddle of the moment answered, Ikazuki admitted as he made his way. Jirobo was still some concern, but as much as he disliked that General, he trusted there would be no dissent in such a vital period. After, when the Queen was returned to her proper place, he expected the Komomori General would demand account for every possible misstep of Ikazuki's be held aloft. After all, this was in the end a temporary state of affairs; if the Queen took offense to the Circle usurping her role in naming a Yojimbo, she would be within her rights to demand Ikazuki's head for the audacity.
The samurai nodded his head. He would happily wash his neck and bare it for the execution, if it meant the Queen sat safe and secure, giving the order.
But there was no time to dwell on such futures; he had a Queen to rescue and a war to win. In that order.
Elsewhere:
"Jackie…" Jade said, eyes fluttering open. She had been woken by something being dragged. 'Must have nodded off, Uncle's trying to move something on his own. Better do something before he gives himself a hernia.'
Pushing herself up by an elbow, Jade winced. Had she fallen asleep on the floor again?
Naked?
Her eyes snapped wide, and watched as a crystalline spider leg scratched the stone floor of her cage, no more than two inches from where her arm was planted. She didn't scream as the monster on top the cage cackled; it always knew when she was awake.
Unable to contain the whimper, she gathered herself up, sitting in the center of the cage as the monster withdrew. Hanging her head, she ran her fingers through her hair. She had been terrified the spider would grab it, and lacking anything to tie it up with, she had resorted to wrapping it around her neck to keep track of it. It was the only soft thing here, and her body ached from sleeping on stone and shivering from the cold.
How long had she slept, how much time had passed? The meals… she was sure they weren't coming regularly. The cruel woman brought those, and always woke her up for them if she was asleep. More pain, that.
At least sometimes she got to eat. Most times, the food was dumped on the floor outside the cage or slid into her, stinking of human crap.
Jade bit her lip; she was so blasted hungry. Even mystery meat from the cafeteria, she would eat her weight in it, complete with special sauce.
The monster woke her up, too. It also talked. Some backstory stuff about being crared and rejected by the Eight Immortals or such or just promising it would make wonders from eating her. She couldn't really listen — she kept drifting in and out, dreams overlapping with the darkness. Only the humans brought her fully back to reality.
Closing her eyes, she could practically see Shendu. Not in his glory, but as a statue, looking down at her. Not gloating or mocking, simply savoring her fate.
Had he done this to her? No, the humans had. No, wait, it had been Shendu with that book!
"You would never have been taken had you not sent your Yojimbo to his doom," a woman spoke with a seething tone into her ear. With a cry, Jade fell over, scrambling to face the intruder.
No one was there.
Then the spider stabbed her in the foot.
"EEEE!" Jade shrieked, the shadows around her trying to move through the wards only to sizzle and disperse as she grabbed her ankle. The stab was shallow, but the leg was unyielding. Head cleared by pain, she realized that even if she could rip her foot clear, it would tear a gash in the sole of her foot.
"Not yet, not yet," the Weaver cackled.
The stone door slid open, and she could practically feel the spider's attention shift, even as it kept its grip.
A gentle cord of notes played on a biwa reached them, and the spider withdrew its legs. It made no sound, but she could feel it withdraw.
"I rather think I don't approve of that artifact," the musician remarked as he approached. He was carrying a tray of food. It smelled untainted. Jade's stomach growled. She didn't move, only craning her neck to watch him approach. It was a much bigger meal than the bowls brought before. So it meant he'd probably spill it or eat it himself while she watched.
Sitting down in front of the cage, he planted a sake gourd on the floor and planted the tray before the bars. It was too wide to fit in, but he put the platters and bowls through by hand. He even opened the gourd to pour a saucer of sake and place it inside.
Humming along, he closed his eyes and played a fast upbeat tune. It warmed the soul, Jade thought, looking over the treasure. And it warmed her… foot?
Pulling her foot around, she watched the wound close, leaving only a tiny scar.
"There, that does it, I think."
"…Why?" Jade asked.
"One should not have to explain a bit of simple kindness. But in this world, it is is an oddity, I suppose. Even if your appearance is a deception, I dislike seeing children suffer."
"…Would you consider letting me go, then?"
"Not at all."
"…"
"Suffering is a part of life in this tainted world. I could save a hundred little girls and put them with kind families that will cherish them, and lie down to sleep knowing thousands of such children are being violated, murdered and worse in this world. You would ask me to be a hero to you? Many qualities are given to heroes, but I think the most essential one is to not give up in the face of terrible odds. And I have long since given up on this world. I seek to leave it for something better. These small kindnesses, they are an idle reflex of an empathy that I have sought to leave behind."
Jade ate the rice with her bare hands, staring at the strange man with narrowed eyes.
'I do not like him,' she decided.
"But if I were you, it'd probably be a good idea to not take everything one of your captors says at face value," he said, taking a drag from the gourd.
Jade paused, looking at the food she had eaten about half of.
"Oh, it's not been tampered with," the bard or whatever said.
"You just said not to trust you."
"Well, perhaps trust my lack of motive."
"So the woman has a good reason to hate me?" Jade asked. It wasn't surprising; she was the evil overlord here.
"Yes, a tragedy worthy of song — last of her clan, carrying on their arts and ways to avenge the fallen and vanquish evil. Really, it's a pity, she has a noble nature, but this, you. It brings out the the worst in our Ken-chan. Our Himitsu was much like her, I think. He should have been more than he was. But he let fear of death and his ambition to fill a bottomless cup sap away his worth. Commendable drive for them both. But it's worse than useless if you are pointed in the wrong direction."
"Why are you here?" Jade asked. Not really hoping for a straight answer, but maybe he would let something slip.
"Idle empathy — just because it's pointless doesn't mean I like seeing children suffer."
"Are you people going to kill me?" Jade asked.
"…Honestly, I don't know. There is a lot I won't tell you, but I admit I am generally fuzzy on what Lord Rokutaro plans to do with you in the long term. It doesn't really concern me, I suppose. As long as he keeps his pact with me."
"…Any chance I can outbid him?" Maybe this moral ambiguity could work in her favor? She took the saucer of sake and drained it in one go, leaving her coughing as he watched her.
"No, I am a man of my word, and I pledged myself to Lord Rokutaro."
"Did he make a deal with the wizard too?"
"Fair point, but he did ask Himitsu be brought back alive. My grievance there is with a pair of odious men. And it's rather irrelevant — as bad as a bargain with nobles can be, the Kami and Oni are even more deadly to bargain with. Well, time for me to go. Yasashi Ken will be along shortly; she and Lord Rokutaro have something to show you," he said, gathering the tray and sake. He paused and held out his hand. With a sigh, Jade pulled out the tiny bowl she had slipped behind her. He accepted it with a smile she couldn't peg as playful or mocking.
In a moment he was gone, and she was forced back into the center of the cage by the spider.
X X X
Open war was upon them. There could be no other outcome with the enemy Queen in their hands.
Murakami had long dreaded the Shadowkhan moving in earnest, bringing their true power to bear. For as General of the Shirogeta clan's forces, he knew well their strength and that of their allies. The samurai of the Shirogeta were strong, their castles mighty, their people ready to resist the coming darkness. But for all that, it was fated to be a doomed stand. A war fought by the principals of bushido saw every road converge upon their defeat.
Armored in the full regalia of his office, the General walked through the halls of Tobe castle, with all he passed stopping to show respect. All was in readiness, he required only the final blessing of his lord to commit himself to the front.
Reaching the audience chamber, he waited and was announced. It was all strange. He knew this was the last time he would stand here and perform this near ritual, yet rather than distinctness, the sameness was what stood out to him.
"General Murakami, your plans have remained unchanged?" Lord Rokutaro broke from the script as they neared the end, jogging the samurai from his tracts. The General sat before his lord's seat, posture and poise flawless, even in his armor.
"Yes. Awaji Island is lost before the first blodd is shed, but we must make the enemy pay as high a price as we can. It is our honor as the protectors of that land, and our duty to the people of Honshu to reduce the number of invaders that will cross the sea."
He did not elaborate; there were other courtiers here. This was strictly a matter of the clan, not of the Shogunate in the Shadows. For all their thoroughness and purges, there could be spies here, even unwitting ones.
"Others could lead this mission. Perhaps it is a poor choice for the clan's greatest General to sacrifice himself prior to the greatest battle," Lord Rokutaro commented.
"I am at my lord's command."
"Do you truly believe this the best course, General?"
"I do."
"Then do your duty with your daimyo's blessing," Lord Rokutaro nodded.
From there on, it was ritual. His lord's expression betrayed nothing. The General could only hope his own relief was as well hidden.
It was done.
Then on his way to the awaiting force, the woman was waiting in his path.
It took a moment for him to recognize her, despite her attire being unchanged and her face clearly seen as she waited in the hallway. Something was different; her posture? He was not sure, but for that first moment, turning the corner, he had not recognized this strange woman. The charms he wore under his armor were still and silent, so no supernatural deception was at work.
It was when she bowed in slight enough respect that it hit him. She had always been a hunter rather than a warrior, to his mind, in how she carried herself. Now there was something of the beast in her.
As he gave his own gesture of respect he noted the pouch on her belt. Surely she would not be allowed to simply carry around that cursed thing? If he had his way, the masks would be buried in sacred ground as soon as they were made. Bad enough to deal with something as clearly malign as that spider below. But to harness the armies of the enemy like this?
"You go to death?" she asked him as they faced each other.
"A samurai should aspire to nothing greater than to die in battle for his lord and people. I would not expect a woman to understand, much less one who lives outside the order of society," he replied bluntly. This was their last meeting, there was less reason than ever to conceal their mutual distaste.
"Men like Gurando and Rosuto would sooner live while others sacrifice," she pointed out.
"A man cannot be held to account for another's lack of honor or conviction."
"Yet he feels free to die knowing what sort of men inherit the world when he not only charges to death but calls other good men to follow him to it?" she remarked. Frowning, the General moved to walk past her.
"It is a fine thing, General, to not be ruled by a fear of death. I learned to fear it young. But when I longed for death first, it was to escape life. Is this a matter of duty, or do you just want to escape life?" she asked.
Escape life, he pondered. The masks, the reminder his lord had forsaken the values of bushido. The equal fears it would either lead to disaster, vindicating Murakami's fears, or that it would work and devilry would prevail where honor failed to save Nihon. The ruin of his land or the effective end of the ideals that embodied all that was good and noble in his people.
And her, a living heresy long before she put that mask on. Yet he could not hate her, he found, faced with the end.
A samurai was to be ruled by certainty, his every action dictated by the code passed down. Questions were the first symptom of duty's death.
"Perhaps, but I do not owe you an answer, Yasashi Ken. Fight well — the only thing worse than the road we walk is for it to end in failure," the samurai said, walking away from her.
"Die well then, General," she said, not turning to watch him go.
X X X
Ikazuki had made his rounds to the Generals, taking their reports and feeling them out as best he could. Though the last was Sanshobo, who had preempted him with the request that Ikazuki meet with him last. And not in his offices as General, but as High Priest.
Intellectually, Ikazuki was a General who knew full well the necessity of time to gather a force and supply it to be effective. That they could not afford to rush into matters. The Gani had been defeated; terror and mere force could not be relied upon. And Hiruzen's great skill and stealth had proven unequal to the task. And their long labors to secure the Fortress and be assured of their allies had proven critically flawed.
All that remained was overwhelming force that would overcome whatever perils lay between them and the Queen. But even that did not change the fact he was not rushing to rescue her at this moment.
Reaching the Kamikiri sector of the Fortress, called the Temple by some, he was greeted with a new round of chants by the mantid monks. Due to the crisis, or did his new rank afford a new chant?
He seized on his irritation with them to better contain the anxious fury. He felt in his bones that the Queen suffered. And they were not there to wipe out what plagued her and ease her to contentment. Shame, mingled with rage, even he could sense the dangerous mixture brewing beneath his skin.
That did not excuse the seemingly sudden arrival at the shrine that Sanshobo awaited him at. Ikazuki shook his head, cursing letting his awareness slip. Perhaps he should simply hand the duty to Ozeki? At least then he would be freer to distract himself with training.
"Enter, Yojimbo," Ikazuki heard the Kamikiri say from he other side of the door. Ikazuki pulled the door open and stepped through, only the tingling warning him of magic at work. His next step did not bring into the office.
Instead, he stood on a cliff overlooking a valley. The valley was nestled amidst unfamiliar mountains, the blue sky peeking through the crevasses as the peaks seemed to nearly curl like fingers to cover the land. Black stone veined with chalky blue dominated the valley's walls, while boulders of the same adorned the valley floor. The soil was covered with grass that was adorned with tiny flowers of red, the flowers thickest along boulders set in the valley wall, boulders with ropes adorned with sutra tied around them.
"This…" Ikazuki gasped. He knew this place, though he had never been here. Spoken of in lore, and written of in promise.
"The Valley of the Shadows. Behold and glory in the final resting places of the mortal remains of the Queens of Shadows! Here lies the unmarked grave of Kagehime, and the tombs of so many others. Even a General is not granted the right to walk this land idly," Sanshobo proclaimed, appearing seemingly from nowhere.
"A portal? A security risk," Ikazuki managed.
"The wards protecting this land are far greater than any Shadowkhan can now weave, Yojimbo. If anything, the portal risks this sacred land. But we have little time, and you must learn," the High Priest said, gesturing with one of his sickles to a steep but clear pathway up into the the cliffs.
"I am busy," Ikazuki said flatly.
"No, this is a duty. Unwritten it is, but here in this place of Queens is also a place of the Yojimbos, the true shrine to that office. The truth of those who have held that office is there, unvarnished and untouched by those who with mirrors or darkness would make a past better suited to their ambitions. If you would take this office, you must take the burden of what came before."
"…Do you know what is recorded there?" Ikazuki asked.
"Yes. Yojimbo Ikeda feared the office of Yojimbo would be corrupted once more, and so entrusted stewardship of the shrine to be shared with the High Priest. It is also our role to watch you, Yojimbo. To guard the Queen from her strongest guardian, if need be. But time is short. The most important lesson is that of the black box. Enter the shrine if you can, open the box. Then you must decide what you will do."
"If I can?"
"You were not anointed by a Queen to your office. Though that is no fault of your own, it may strike you dead as a pretender regardless," Sanshobo shrugged.
Ikazuki started to climb.
Beneath Tobe:
Jade wasn't sure how much time passed between the musician leaving and the next arrival. With a real meal in her belly, she had quickly passed out into a deep sleep. Not peaceful, but at least she could not clearly recall the skittering talking terrors of the dream.
And then back awake to this nightmare. She stroked the hair that she had wrapped around her neck to keep track of. The spider had tried to grab it too many times to let it fall all wily-nilly.
Any thought of complaining over stupid long hair didn't make it to the top of oh her mind as she unwound her self-made scarf and laid down, trying to use the hair as pillow. It seemed to work better than it should; magic hair or delirium, she wondered, pulling her legs as deep into her torso as she could.
She had to get warm. The stone felt like it was sucking all the heat out of her. She'd woken to trembling, and even now her teeth were kept from chattering only by her jaw being clenched.
And her skin felt… gross. No one had scrubbed away the stink from the discarded tainted "meals", either. And she was certain, trying to hide her face in her knees, that she was hardly smelling of the bath at this point.
But her skin, it felt like something was trying to force its way out. But slowly. Like a mostly empty ketchup bottle someone was trying to get stuff from but it just didn't move? Or like being clogged up but with all her pores?
Ugh, just thinking about how she felt made her head want to split open even more. Oh yeah, headache too!
'Am, I sick?' Jade wondered, shivering bare on the stone.
So she was not sure how much time had passed when the door opened and two humans entered, sending the spider scurrying back out of sight.
Jade looked up, willing her body not to shiver; the old lord, Rokutaro, and the woman. And something foul and familiar, she thought, the sensation washing over her.
"Little shadow, enjoying your accommodations?" the woman asked. Jade growled in answer, rising to kneel on the floor, covering herself as best she could with her hair.
The humans looked unimpressed.
'How dare they?!' she snapped internally, snarling to bare her teeth.
"Good to see you have some vigor. I was worried our dear Demon Queller's suggestions for your stay might see you expire. Can't have that now, your fate will be far more severe. But that is for later. Do it," Rokutaro commanded.
Did he seem… tired, Jade wondered. Her vision was a bit blurry, she admitted, her head jolting a bit at each word they said. But the two, she thought, didn't look so well. The Lord looked like a guy stressed rather than villain cooing over victory. And the woman, were her teeth sharper looking? No, Jade thought as the woman grinned while pulling a pouch off her belt too dramatically. But there was some air of wrongness about her Jade wasn't sure of.
Then the woman pulled a face out of her pouch.
Jade screamed and threw herself back against the bars behind her. Her vision flashed red and white under the impact, and she slumped.
The woman's laugh seemed to slowly drag her back to reality as her vision cleared to just spots of distortion.
It wasn't a face. The horrible woman who didn't deserve a name had pulled out a mask.
"Tsume," Jade muttered. Or she thought so, because the lord clearly heard her.
"Indeed. I imagine you have been curious where your armies have gone. Well, here is one."
"Disgusting," Jade groaned. Just looking at that thing made her nauseous. The shadow chi coming from it, was laced with something. The spider?
Whatever it was, it was like seeing a beautiful ice cream sundae or something getting a rotting bird dumped on it. The fact you could tell what it was supposed to be only made how bad it was worse.
Then the woman put the not-quite corpse on her face. And it hugged her.
The woman… changed. It wasn't the feeling of a Shadowkhan — when exactly had Shadowkhan gotten a feeling even? — but it wasn't human. No, this, she thought as the woman's head fused into something that was neither her nor Tsume, was a monster.
Then another monster that looked like a Gani rose up at the woman monster's command. It wasn't a Shadowkhan. A hundred ways it looked like one, but she could sense a thousand ways it wasn't. It was like a corpse puppet!
Her deep breaths then went too deep, and what was left of that meal came back up to say hi.
"So she can't command them, or you like this," Rokutaro said as Jade wheezed, trying to push herself up out of the goop her cheek was resting in.
"And I feel no resistance from the General. He truly is dead. This power is only ours to command now. When the Shadowkhan arrive, we will have two armies of their armies to augment our own."
"And then the rest," Rokutaro smiled, watching as Jade, with coughing and with trembling arms, pushed herself clear of the mess.
"For now, at least, see her properly fed. The final mask will be for her, and I don't want it to be weak because her power was about to flicker out with her life."
"A waste of good food, Lord Rokutaro. Perhaps if we cut some off she won't need to eat as much?" the woman chuckled. Jade stared, stunned.
Rokutaro also raised an eyebrow, and stroked his beard, considering the woman.
"You can take that off now," he remarked. The woman glared at him; Jade could admit it was impressive the elderly man, alone with the monster, showed no fear, only scowling slightly as if a child had back-talked him.
The woman finally complied and left, holding the mask tight in her hand.
"Not asking my leave? And other signs. Well, each new achievement means new challenges. I shall meet this as all else," the lord said to himself.
Then he was gone, and Jade was alone again. Alone with the spider, knowing no one was coming to save her. After all, it seemed the point here was that there was no hero in this story, and she was cast as a monster anyway.
Feeling too tired to even despair, she curled up out of reach, trying to focus on her headache rather than the spider's words.
Valley of Shadows:
He didn't know how long the climb took; it seemed to take only a short time, yet the ground he had ascended from had vanished from sight. An illusion of some sort designed to befuddle his senses as he approached the shrine, or merely a natural result of the shape of the path? Well, it didn't matter, and he pressed on, refusing to let any doubt enter his mind as chill winds tugged at him.
Eventually, however long it actually took, Ikazuki reached the top of the path, and found himself standing before a cliff face, with a cave entrance right in front of him. Judging by the shape of the entrance, it appeared to be a natural cave, but one that had been modified by living hands, judging by the symbols carved into the rock surrounding the entrance and how smooth the path leading into it was.
Following that path, he found himself walking down a narrow passage lit only by the blue flames of a few torches lining the walls. Reaching the end of the tunnel, Ikazuki found himself before elaborate stone doors, demonic faces carved into them glaring at him.
He did not know these faces; he did not think they were Shadowkhan. The age of this place pressed down on him, an unspoken promise that this sacred place had been here before him and would remain long after his name was nothing but an entry of history blurring into legend.
Perhaps these faces had belonged to conquered foes, infamous in their time and placed here to remind all the strength of the Shadowkhan, lest they trespass. Or maybe these were tried and true allies, even mentors, both commemorated here and their blessing affixed to this passage. Whatever the case, a power was not sleeping here; it was awake.
He had no time for riddles and contemplations. Whatever the past required of him, the present demanded his attention, and the future with all its peril rushed ever closer.
He laid hands on the doors and pushed.
For a moment, stillness, and he could have sworn the ground vanished and the muted sounds of the cave fled. An instant when there was only him and the door. Then the door swung in, and he blinked, stepping inside, unsure if he had just experienced something or it was trick of he mind.
The black box was what he noticed first. It was as said, a simple thing, tall as his knees and large enough a grown human could be stuffed in it with little issue. Black lacquered and the lid held in place by a white rope tied in a simple knot that rested on the lid.
It was just across from the doorway, mere paces beyond where the doors would have struck it. Raised on a small promontory, it stood between two branching passageways. Looking around, he confirmed two more, and a ladder had been carved into the wall, rising beyond the sight afforded by the blue-burning lanterns affixed on the walls.
Despite himself, there was an urge to explore. What secrets, what power, might he find here that could be of use? But a samurai should fly straight and true as his arrows. Whatever power rested here, he had no time to master it, and Hiruzen had been bested after having so long to consult whatever this place had to offer.
He was required to attend to the black box. And that was what he would do before returning to matters at hand.
The magic in the rope was palpable to the touch, but it came undone easily enough. With no hinge, he lifted the lid away and looked on the contents.
"Scrolls?" He asked. The box was filled with them, larger than he was used to. Were they paintings?
Frowning, he grabbed the edge of the box, looking at them as if an answer would come forth. He had no time to consult all of these. What was the High Priest thinking?
'LEARN,' the word filled his mind as if it had been stamped on the inside of his skull.
With a wordless cry, Ikazuki pitched forward. And fell over and over through the darkness into bundles of light that burst forth like stars at his approach.
Ikazuki landed. Feeling something firm beneath his back, he opened his eyes to a strange sky. Sitting up, the Yojimbo looked around to see he was in a mountain meadow.
Except, it looked more like painting of one. Stylized and elegant, like from the finest scroll or screen, but a painting no less. Reaching out, he plucked some of the painted grass, and it faded away from his grasp only to fade back in where it had been plucked.
"A vision," Ikazuki remarked, standing up.
"So, you finally decided to show yourself? Took you long enough. I was starting to wonder if you only wanted to take in the sight of me," an old man called out. Ikazuki pivoted, falling into a stance, his sword barely emerging from the sheath. But the man, also a painting, was not talking to him. Another Shadowkhan stood in the field, a part of the painting, facing the old man. A regal Reza he recognized instantly.
"Daigoro the Bold."
"Daigoro the Craven, that is the title you seem be carrying these days. You did not avenge your Queen and have spent years holed up in that fortress while your armies meander about, causing mischief. And now you decide to bother me? The Shadowkhan truly have fallen to a pathetic place, haven't they?"
"…A human's insults mean nothing to me. Even one of the Immortals," Daigoro answered as Ikazuki stepped around the pair to see the human clearly.
Zhang Guo Lao, the Immortal. He did not quite line up with pictures Ikazuki had seen of him, but the samurai knew this was the man he witnessed here. Daigoro truly had been bold to seek conflict alone against such a foe.
"What is it you want of me?" the Immortal asked, stroking his beard.
"My Queen requires your services. You will provide them."
"Hmm, I think not. Politics do not suit me among my own kind, and why should I run to the call of a child so spoiled she likely has never felt dirt under her feet?"
"It is not a request."
"Ah, violence, the quick resort of the unenlightened."
The clash was difficult to see, as Daigoro rushed the Immortal. The light blurring and flashing showing clarity only moments at a time. Perhaps the magic was limited in being able to capture this scene?
Too soon, the Yojimbo of the Shadowkhan was bound to a tree by thin strings, battered, with little more than a split lip inflicted on his foe.
"You have great potential, but like that speed, you squander it by letting passion narrow your vision rather than broaden it."
"Kill me."
"Why?"
"Because I have failed to bring aid to my sick Queen."
"A sick child. Well, that is a different matter," he snapped his fingers, and the bonds fell away, "You will find getting to the point has great value in asking a favor. Lead on. And remember, I come as a guest not a servant or prisoner."
Ikazuki's surroundings suddenly shifted, and he was no longer in the meadow, instead standing in a large throne room. It wasn't that of the Fortress, which hadn't been built at this point in time, but it was still suitably grand. The throne sat atop a dais, flanked on either side by a half dozen Reza, and seated on the throne was a Shadowkhan girl only a few years older than the current Queen, wrapped all in black and wearing a veil that completely covered her face.
Daigoro stood before the dais, bowing respectfully, while Zhang Guo Lao was standing next to him… with a donkey? Ikazuki had to blink and look at that again, unable to comprehend the sight of someone bringing a filthy animal before the glorious presence of the Queen.
The Yojimbo of old took his place, both being in position to protect the Queen and, Ikazuki realized, to give the Immortal a space before the throne. The man introduced his donkey, of all things. Then laid his hand on it, and began to fold.
Ikazuki was only surprised for a moment. He had, of course, heard the stories of how this sagely Immortal had been fond of oddities such as a donkey he enchanted so that he could fold up and carry it when needed. If anything, he was admonishing himself for not immediately assuming it was that animal; overlooking such details did not befit a Yojimbo.
But as the man folded, Ikazuki's eyes went to the ancient Queen. She was leaning forward in her throne, glowing eyes visibly widened through the veil. When the donkey was reduced to a palm-sized square that Zhang Guo Lao tucked into a pouch, she applauded.
"Can you put it back?" she asked, her manner eager and utterly unfitting for an outsider.
"Certainly. Would you like me to show you how?" the Immortal said, producing the donkey square with a flick of his wrist.
Daigoro was wary, but the Queen was unrelenting, leaving her seat of power to take instruction from the Immortal as Daigoro and half a dozen Reza held him at blade point. Under his instruction, she slowly and with far more clumsiness than the Immortal, unfolded until she was left with an unimpressed-looking donkey.
From there, she was soon riding the beast under the Immortal's direction, clearly scared but barking off her bodyguards, who were reduced to shadowing her, arms outstretched.
It seemed to cover a full day, the donkey being set aside for magic tricks that weren't magic at all, with the Immortal trying to show her how to make a coin disappear and reappear without a jot of mystic energy. She even served him tea at one point. Though sharing a meal with the human was where Daigoro drew a literal line with his blade, sending the Queen to her quarters. She went, with the Immortal's urging.
"What did you do? I called you here for healing magic and medicine. The only magic I detected was your beast. Is this some Immortal sorcery that evades our senses?"
"Well, it shouldn't evade your senses, but like many 'important' people you can't see the food for the banquet."
"No riddles. You influenced my Queen, and I can't see how you did it. If I declare you a danger, even you won't leave here alive."
"Bah, you see further than your fellows, but not enough to see what a fool you are? Your Queen doesn't need magic of the sort you think, and medicine will only go so far with an ailment of grief. You've locked her in a box with naught to occupy her but grief and the constant reminder of not only her loss but that you expect her to succeed where her mother failed. You talk of vengeance; perhaps she is scared you will make her fight against Po Kong, who devoured her mother alive? You guard a Queen well, but you tend a child like a fool. Shadows need light, don't they? Well, children, people, they need LIFE to thrive. She needs to laugh and feel wonder. To be able to discover and learn things she didn't know. To not be locked up in good intentions."
"…"
"Yes, I know, not easily done for all that it's easy to say. Too many would kill or seal her away for power or fear of her very existence. But I'm only here to point your way, young shadow. The path to balance between wisdom and freedom is one you must discover. And rediscover, as many times as needed."
Daigoro ordered the Immortal be locked in the guest cell, which the Immortal just rolled his eyes to as he was led off.
The scene shifted, and Ikazuki was away to another time and place...
Later:
He did not speak a word until they had returned to the Palace.
Ikazuki stood rigid. Not the readiness of a warrior at all, his movements wooden, posture somehow brittle. He stood with Sanshobo, looking over the shrine to the Yojimbos, his eyes roaming restlessly over three.
"Is it true?" he finally asked curtly.
"Yes. The burden of my tribe and office. And the office you hold. The truth often destroys more than it helps. But to lose it entirely invites too much peril. So it is a burden shared between the few for the benefit of the many, and the royalty. And you, Ikazuki, are you broken by it? What will you do now, you who would be Yojimbo to the Queen?"
The High Priest withdrew in silence, not waiting for an answer. Leaving Ikazuki alone with the idols to the past.
Days Passed:
"The plan, in summation, is a frontal assault upon the enemy. The defeat of Tsume shows the folly of attacking in a divided matter, and if Hiurzen-sama could be bested in infiltration, stealth is folly. The enemy has the allegiance of Nonki, a human whose abilities defy the sense of the world. We are operating under the assumption that rumors are true and he can manipulate luck itself to favor him. And he has extended that to the cause he serves, somehow. We cannot expect any favorable rolls of the dice while he remains in play. Therefore, two policies must be adopted.
"Firstly, to kill Nonki or remove him from the campaign are the highest priority, second only to the securing of the Queen. Secondly, we must not gamble. Therefore we move as one, attacking with such overwhelming force that, even if luck conspires against us, the advantages it gives to the enemy will not alter the final outcome. Just as the great mind cannot outwit a storm it is caught in, we must become the unstoppable force that cannot be defied, only bent to."
Ikazuki paused his speech to the assembled officers of the tribes in the massive courtyard.
"Awaji is the first target. From there, we will expect a confrontation with the enemy's naval forces. The battle at sea is critical, as it is were; our forces are limited by our sea fleet's capacity, and Nonki's ability to meddle will be increased by such. Any chance, however slim, of Awaji providing support must be eliminated. We remind the humans how merciful we have truly been to them. We will show them what our true fury is."
X X X
Silence was sweeping north through Awaji. The narrow strait had been crossed without contest, and with the first Shadowkhan sandal to touch the sands, vengeance had begun.
The Generals remained in reserve per Ikazuki's orders, as he surmised whatever magic was at work required a General to curse the entire tribe. When needed they would make their move, but until then, they would deny the enemy the opportunity. As it was, their armies were eager enough to carry on the task themselves. The task was not war, it was death. No slaves to be taken or even prisoners to interrogate. Caution and terror had failed Hiruzen and Tsume, now death was the answer and it was visited upon every human they could find. Through the fields, the hills, and with clashing steel and crumbling walls of castles, death swept in the wake of the shadow.
Ikazuki wondered as he surveyed the final stronghold, warding the straits that separated them from Tobe, if the humans had been able to truly understand the Shadowkhan's previous mercy. If they could grasp that until now the goal had been to build an empire and that humans, even as slaves, had a place in it, and some could even be allies. If their sole goal had been simply to sweep humanity from this land as quickly as possible, the shape of this long war would be quite different.
But he doubted they noticed; it was the nature of humanity to see itself as the persecuted victim, even when they were the bandits pillaging the town and slaughtering the innocent. Even the Oni of Yomi and the likes of Shendu could at least be honest about their malice, but humans ever dressed up their vices as virtues.
Still, he was pleased at the lines of samurai he could see keeping guard. Even from this distance, he could discern their resolve. Even with mere days having killed every human they could find on this island beyond these walls, they were standing resolute.
Admirable. Another reason they were so dangerous.
"They will make us pay a high price," Jirobo noted, turning Ikazuki's eyes back to the Circle, who sat around a table where the maps had been laid out.
"War is costly," Ikazuki said with irritation. Jirobo may be obedient at present, but he had acquired a chronic cynicism to Ikazuki's plan that was its own irritant.
"But is this necessary? Can we not simply sail by the castle? The blackpowder weapons are strong, but surely our fleet can skirt their range, and then this garrison will be helpless to aid Tobe."
"No, the enemy has thrived in us underestimating them. If such thoughts occur to us, it will have occurred to them. We sweep Awaji clean, and the enemy that always hid in the straits will not have a hold on both shores to be used in the coming battle or later."
"Yojimbo, I have a request," Hishu said from his spot at the table.
That caused a slight stir. The General had been, if anything, too cooperative with his peers; he was by all means the junior and unproven of their ranks, but a certain steel was to be expected to try and sharpen against such.
"Speak."
"I want to take part in this assault, along with my forces."
"You have yet to uncover your tribe's power. It may be that to scout and spy is your strength."
Ikazuki did not truly think a tribe could be so weak, but whatever hidden power waited in Hishu and his brothers remained hidden. A weapon that could not be grasped may as well not exist.
"Battle is the only recourse to reveal this power, Ikazuki-sama. And if, as you all no doubt fear, we are sealed, we lose nothing of value. Indeed, if our sealing can grant you any insight into the enemy's methods, it will be well worth the cost."
"As you wish," Ikazuki said, preempting objections from the others. Ozeki in particular gave him looks that drew close to improper.
"You wish to prove yourselves, then do so," Ikazuki closed the matter, before moving onto the layout of the next battle, revising it as he spoke to account for Hishu's forces.
Soon:
Hishu was failing, again. He could not even think of himself as General Hishu as he laid in wait, watching the samurai who was in command of this castle's gate.
He and his tribe were good at sneaking, at spying; the other Generals said so, and even when it was sincere it stung. Each tribe was unique, but all were powerful. The Reza tribe's speed might be trumped by the flight of the Komomori, but their agility on the ground and weaving in and out of buildings or foliage as needed could put the fliers to shame. And even though the Kamikiri had held the sole power of magic, as the new decree showed, the other tribes could learn it. In fact, he had learned that before the Kamikri, the priestly and sorcerous roles had spread across the tribes. And the Kamikiri were elder only to his own fledgling tribe.
Why was his tribe, why was he, so weak?
The Queen was his mother. He had been born from her desire, the deepest shadows of truth and longing in her soul. So why? He could not believe she wanted weakness. They might be a swarm, but a feeble swarm was not mighty. It was just… nothing.
Mother, he could sense her, he was certain. A faint tug, a distant echo. Cold, frightened, weakening. Ever weakening.
The humans would destroy her, or worse. They had ruled over vast lands before the Shadowkhan began their conquest and his studies showed their true colors in that. Humans looked on the world and saw only what they wanted to possess or destroy. If a youkai had something they wanted, it was right for humans to take it from them. If a youkai longed for and took something from a human, they were a thief, a monster, something to be driven out or destroyed. His gentle mother, locked away from the world since birth… to them, she was either a treasure to lock away, which would destroy her, or a threat they would destroy once convenient.
They had to save her. He would gladly die to do so, but if he was weak, what did that matter?
What did she want in them?
'Mother, Tsume told me of his tribe's origin. Born of rage. Was that their armor, the desire to not be hurt again reflected? Was that their hunger, an insatiable desire to take to end the emptiness? Was their fearsome nature, that even their brothers looked upon askance, the desire to not be afraid by making others fear? What of you, Mother, in that tower? What desire cried out and received us as the answer?'
He contemplated her, what he had witnessed of her, what others had spoken. Would that he could will her here, safe and happy as she took shape in his mind.
But had she been happy, he wondered? Had she not chafed at the cage that was her life? Had he not disgraced himself aiding in her foolhardy escape?
Yes, foolish. But it was her wish, wasn't it? And their deference to her? How much faith did she have in them? Did she fear these men who had put her in a cage her whole life? That knew what was best and were obedient until they weren't?
She had wanted more than just magic, meetings, and luxury, hadn't she? She wanted more than what she was. And had she feared those who she saw as more?
How much did he know his mother? Had he ever understood anything? No, but he understood this. She wanted to change, her place, herself. Why, when she was so perfect? Because to herself, she was not, was she?
He was the same. He wanted to be something else than the weak Shadowkhan he was. He hated that in the end, this mere human samurai was so much stronger than him. What he could do with even a portion of that strength…
The samurai moved and his shadow touched the shadow the Shadowkhan General hid in. And he sensed it. How long had that been there? Well, it was there now.
Hihsu bared his teeth and bit into the samurai's shadow. And as his enemy flailed and fell in weakness, he rose from the shadow, changed.
Stronger. Bigger. Greater.
"Mother, your desire. Your gift. I humbly receive," Hishu said, his voice changed as he turned his attention to the samurai who now yelled at his presence.
Shortly:
Chaos spread as the word passed between the hidden watchers.
"Devour their shadows."
First men collapsed, then the monsters appeared, small but full of sharp teeth. Fast too, and not after their blood. Not yet.
The power surged and excited in them, a flaw to be considered later as all subtlety came to be abandoned for brute force. Teeth and spear-like claws rending screaming men.
But the samurai and their soldiers, while caught off guard, had trained to face horrors. The sloppiness of the once Mini Khan was not without its price, many falling to blade or spell. Particularly as they took little effort to conceal their devouring of shadows, with sharp-eyed samurai casting aside lanterns to gamble on darkness. In truth, had the tribe stood alone, with few numbers to start with, and such sloppy losses drunk on new power, the defenders likely would have prevailed.
But they were not alone.
"I see," Ikazuki said with a smile as he received the report on the nature of the bedlam in the castle, "Kamisori, Jirobo, send your men to retrieve them. My samurai will press on to the citadel."
"Such foolish loses. It bodes ill," Ozeki remarked as the other two Generals left the command post. Ikazuki's grin widened under the moonlight.
"Give them time, General, they are young."
X X X
The runners reported the new Shadowkhan had seemingly withdrawn.
How long had they had such a force in secret? Their existence boded ill for the war. But it seemed the enemy was not confident these shadow devourers could take the fortress on their own. General Murakami was glad of that, especially as the enemy's samurai had now taken on the assault. He had briefly sortied, but all it had amounted to was felling a single enemy with his longbow before leading the withdraw into this innermost strongpoint.
Ah, it would have been grand to die by those samurai. Even with their near-overwhelming power they fought with discipline; he was certain there was an honor in them even as the kidnapping of their goddess no doubt drove them to a hateful rage. But that was not his fate.
Taking the burning brand, he watched as the last of his aides pried off the top of the cask. One of many, and more out of sight. Looking into the burning embers of the brand, he found the thoughts he had long avoided billowing to the forefront.
He was a failure, he admitted. To lay down one's life was noble when one wished to live. To those who welcome death, self-sacrifice was at its heart an act of self-gratification. The woman was wrong about so many things, but she was right to question him. But he truly could not find the will to face the future. The victory of the Shirogeta would save Nihon from the Shadowkhan. But such a victory would validate all the taboos they had committed, the loyal and trusting lives sacrificed for those masks. The cowardly tactics of felling armies that could not defend themselves. Making common cause with the vile and irreverent, who cared not for the land, the people, or honor. And most recently, the abduction and abuse of a child kami, even a dark one.
Humanity was not virtuous. That truth was the very reason codes and creeds were sought, the understanding one must strive to be better.
To save Nihon thus, would it not mean trading the soul of the nation for survival? But by the same honor he prized, he was bound to obey. Loyalty was the first virtue of the samurai, the understanding that for all your might and cunning, you at the end are a weapon to be wielded by the hand that holds you. For the weapon to turn on its master was to abandon everything by placing one's own desire and belief over all else. But even so, that did not change that he had done nothing when pressed, even as he saw his lord and the clan fall into darkness. And now it was that pointless choice that had become his obsession. Destruction of a nation, or the damnation of it?
This was a final courtesy of his lord. But it also was the end of any argument; Gendo knew why he did this, and weighed his life as so many other things as worth sacrificing on the altar of the road he walked. His death here would change nothing. And he knew deep down the fact he had held to his vows to the end would have little sway in the weighing of his soul. He died not the seeker of redemption, he realized and admitted, but to preserve the pride that was the only thing he had left. All else had become hollow in him, and the last pillar that was his pride buried under the weight of sin and failure.
Could he have done different?
A samurai Shadowhan burst through the wall to his left, sword drawn; battle was breaking out. With a flick of his fingers, he sent his daisho clattering to the floor; the samurai hesitated at him casting down the very soul of a samurai.
It was too late for questions, as it was for apologies or redemption.
"And end," General Murakami declared, thrusting the burning brand into the cask of blackpowder.
He was smiling with relief as the chain of explosions tore apart the castle citadel, the remaining defenders, and so many of the invaders.
Tobe Harbor:
"To the heroes of Nihon," Lord Rokutaro said, standing and glancing outward, looking over the walls to the straits. He drank the sake from the saucer with his finest samurai and leaders of the gathering army.
"May their heroic devotion inspire us in the coming battle. And their spirits lend us strength."
The Straits:
Kyouaku looked on, face impassive, as colossal columns of smoke darkened the sky above Awaji's coast, a clear sign that the fortress had been destroyed, as per the plan.
While not particularly fond of General Murakami, the pirate still found himself slightly bowing his head to the horizon in respect. While he would never be so foolish as to willingly throw his life away, he could still admit that it took a certain courage to sacrifice one's self for a cause. And Murakami had, with this act, proved himself no coward in the end.
No passion stirred in him, but he was satisfied the job had been well done, and the Shadowkhan armada was laid bare to them, as one could hope.
"Signal all ships. Advance," he said to a nearby officer, who bowed and turned to pass on the orders.
Ripping the bauble from Rokutaro from where it dangled from his sword's pommel, he considered it a moment, before dashing it to the deck. He would not trust the lord's gift further than he must, and smiled genuinely as he felt the magic concealing those he commanded unravel.
"You actually look happy. Wouldn't waiting have been better?" Nonki asked, tuning his instrument as he leaned against the railing.
"Only satisfied. Magic is a temptation; it's left you a ruin of a man, after all."
"…I suppose that's fair. Hmm, the priests have been sowing the air with prayers, and Murakami's sacrifice has charged the atmosphere. It's a time terrible things can happen for those who know how. Yet Lord Rokutaro will call it a miracle."
"The only difference between a miracle and a curse is the end result. Now do it, the Shiriogeta's own ships will make a fitting sacrifice wave. My men will deliver victory from the chaos." Nonki nodded and began to play a song upon the strings.
"Very well. Let him come then. The scornful younger brother. Chewer of beads and filler of forces who overflows the canals. Wild life giver and taker. In equal measure give blessing and curses to the storm. Stand now against the existence you despised at first sight, and heirs to the student of your eight-headed foe. Unfurl your banner…"
X X X
Kuro wrapped his tentacles around the railing in front of him so hard the wood cracked as he watched the fortress on the enemy shore burn. A large chunk of the fortress had been vaporized by the explosion, and much of the rest had collapsed in on itself after the fact. He was certain that no one could have survived that, human or Shadowkhan.
"Damn them all," he hissed under his breath. Blackpowder was the only explanation; he was certain they did not know the secret to its creation, so that must have been at least the greater portion of what they had been stealing. He had assumed they secured the new ships for their own use, but instead they had laid this trap.
Matters of the powder fell to him, and he had failed to foresee this. The loss of so many Shadowkhan fell to him.
"Ships on the horizon!" a voice called from one of the lookouts. Kuro's gaze snapped from the shore to the horizon, and his eyes narrowed as a large number of ships came into view.
"Magic," he said, the air still tingling from a powerful spell's release.
He glanced to where Sanshobo sat on the deck by the helm in a circle of his priests, working his beads while the priests chanted softly.
"As I expected, the enemy has access to great magic of an unknown source. Very old, very strong; likely not of this land. And no doubt commanding a high price," Sanshobo remarked dramatically, tilting his basket head to Kuro as the General approached.
"The Sage is not with them?" Kuro demanded.
"No, there is a taint to this power I detect that would not be born of a sage. And it's old! It leaves a lingering scent of a lost age! And blood; oh yes, faint but oh so clear. Innocent blood at the least; they stand against shadow and gird themselves in darkness! Make ready, the storm comes!"
"We are ready for this fight," Kuro declared, watching his ships move to counter the sudden threat. Yes, the surprise worked against them, but from what he could see, these were merely human ships, and any magic they carried, he had the power and protection of the Shadowkhan's greatest mystics. The pirate king was here, and he could not slip away in open battle. This would…
The wind was changing.
Thoughts cut off, he looked to Sanshobo, who rose to stand, still working his beads.
"The storm was not a metaphor. The enemy sends his strongest agent against us. His music rides the wind. The storm of discord rises against us," the High Priest declared as the sky darkened and the lead clouds grew thunderous.
"Nonki, the Peaceful Musician."
"No doubt Hiruzen's doom. Above all else, kill that one, General Kuro-Ri-Chi. Behold what they can bring with his aid!" Hiruzen declared, spreading his beads, the clacking stopping as he faced the horizon.
As thunder began to sound like distant drums, Kuro squinted and it seemed he could almost make out a figure amidst the forming storm front. A powerful masculine one, sword being drawn.
"Susano?"
"In a fashion. Fear not. Such unnatural escalation carries a price. Behold!" he said, pointing to the circle, where one priest held a simple yet immaculate mirror while another offered Sanshobo a candle covered in markings too small and intricate for the General to track as it was taken. Despite his odd appendages, the High Priest held it with a ease toward the sun as clouds shrouded it. And the wick caught off the sun as Kuro watched. The candle ignited like a flare and Sanshobo chanted quicker than could be followed, the circle abandoning their own chant to instead produce drums and chimes, keeping a beat.
But Kuro could make out one word from the chant.
Amaterasu.
Author's Note:
Well, hello there. Hope you have all been doing okay in these times. I worry this will not rate much as an early present for Christmas or whatever gift giving holiday you may have, but I offer it regardless.
As you might have guessed this chapter did not come easy. And I don't expect the next one to go much better I am afraid. The war is a lot of action and action has never been my strong point. Not helped by this being more of a bridge chapter.
A good deal of this chapter has been sitting in my files for more than a year; helping a fellow writer get back into the game after years away galvanized me hear to take my own advice to them. That advice mainly being, stop getting nowhere trying to plan a perfect story/chapter and actually write one. Looking at the long list of long unupdated stories it hit me; I really needed to take my own advice.
This story in particular it feels like i am more eager for the arcs after this war. So I don't know if this war is a hump and I'll be writing smoother after, or its just I;m too far away to see how those will vex me. But i do want to reach them regardless; I still want to see this and so many others done!
I do look forward to seeing what it looks like getting there.
And of course thanks to anyone out there sill interested in this story. Be careful out there, stay safe.
Long days and pleasant nights to you all.