The Dark Oracle of Fire,
Part
III
by
Shawn
Carman &
Rich
Wulf
Asako
Bairei sat on a cold, unyielding boulder as the brisk mountain wind tugged at
the edges of his kimono. He withdrew a blank scroll and a piece of charcoal
from his satchel and began writing busily, humming softly to himself as he did
so.
“What
are you doing?” demanded Mirumoto Tsuge. The bushi’s face was red with
irritation. “We don’t have time for this nonsense. Put that away!”
“I
beg to differ, Tsuge-san,” Bairei said mildly. “We cannot do anything until
Nakamuro-sama and Shaitung-sama return from their errand atop the mountain.”
The scholar nodded to the peak before them. “I have seen many intriguing things
since leaving the shrine. It would be tragic not to commit them to paper, particularly
if we are about to die.”
Tsuge
laughed. “You fear death, then?”
“No,”
said Bairei with a surprised tone. “I fear only that my death will be without
purpose, so I document what I have seen. Why? Do you fear death?”
“Of
course not!” the warrior said angrily. “I am Dragon! Death is the duty of every
true samurai.”
“We
shall all be in excellent company, then,” Bairei observed. The remark drew a
wry chuckle from the silent Hitomi Maya, who watched the exchange without
comment.
Tsuge
snorted in disgust. “A true samurai would be making peace with his ancestors,
not scribbling frantically to tell future generations about the color of some
random bird he noticed.” He sneered at Bairei. “What mindless drivel are you
writing about now?”
“Actually,”
Bairei said with a smile, “I was just describing the exquisite craftsmanship of
your katana’s tsuba. It’s a style not often seen these days.” His expression
grew serious. “I am very sorry to hear that you do not consider your
grandfather’s soul to be worthy of note. Fortunately, we may soon see him in
Yomi, and I am certain he will forgive the insult.”
The
Dragon warrior’s eyes narrowed dangerously, though the scholar did not seem to
notice. Tsuge’s hand drifted toward his blade. “Perhaps you would care to sample
Dragon steel firsthand, Phoenix. For your records.”
Bairei
looked up, his face bright. “That would be wonderful! I have long been an
admirer of Dragon metallurgy techniques. You really wouldn’t mind if I examined
your blade? I presumed you would not allow it or I would have asked already.”
Tsuge’s
jaw fell open as he struggled to put his anger into words. Finally, he just
growled inarticulately and stormed off, shaking his head in disgust. “Idiot!”
he called out as he stalked around a large rock outcropping.
“Why
do you do that?” Maya asked suddenly.
“Do
what?” Bairei said innocently, not looking up from his scroll.
“Play
the fool. You are easily more intelligent than anyone we’ve encountered on this
entire journey, yet you seem more comfortable feigning ignorance.”
The
scholar shrugged. “In this particular case, your Dragon friend wanted to
intimidate me. I simply took that away from him. I see no reason he should be
allowed to take pleasure from my discomfort.”
“And
with the others?”
Bairei
was quiet for a few moments. “I have been underestimated my entire life, simply
because I place my priorities differently than others. Not so long ago I
discovered that it is not always important that others see my worth, as long as
I continue to utilize my talents to their fullest. At times, being
underestimated allows me to accomplish things I never dreamed possible. I do
not do what I do for personal fame or glory, only for the sake of knowledge.
Thus, I allow it to continue. Those who think me a fool are welcome to do so,
and those who see through my illusion are those I know I can trust to treat me
as an equal.” He shrugged again and smiled faintly at Maya. “Perhaps it’s just
my way of examining the world.”
Maya
nodded. “I think you would make an interesting monk,” she added.
Bairei
considered it. “That would give me more time to read, wouldn’t it?”
•
The
mountain winds were much stronger at the summit. Isawa Nakamuro did not mind,
of course, but he marveled at Tamori Shaitung’s ability to ignore the chilling
winds that sliced past them. He had considered offering to transport the two of
them to the top with a simple spell, but he knew Shaitung would have refused.
The Tamori were a physical people, he had learned. She could have stepped
through the earth at the base of the mountain and emerged at the top in mere
seconds, but preferred to climb the mountain as any other might.
Above
Shaitung, climbing at the head of the group, was her uncle, Tamori Chosai. He
had not spoken in nearly three days, since he had been revealed as the traitor
who betrayed the Dragon Clan to the Dark Oracle of Fire nearly two years ago.
Shaitung would not allow him to leave her sight, not even for a moment.
Nakamuro could sense the struggle within her, her duty as Tamori daimyo warring
with her love of her uncle, yet he sensed that she would kill him in an instant
if he showed any sign of betrayal. Chosai seemed to know it as well, and he
offered no resistance despite his considerable power.
“There,”
Shaitung said above the whistling winds. Nakamuro followed her gesture to a
cave set high on the mountainside. He nodded wordlessly and continued to climb,
striving to keep pace with the two much more experienced climbers. He
considered using a spell to lift himself to the cave’s entrance, but discovered
that he did not wish to have Shaitung think him a weakling. Nakamuro frowned at
that, and was annoyed that he should feel such a thing.
An
exhausting few minutes later, Nakamuro hefted himself up onto the ledge leading
into the cave. He attempted to look as though the climb had not bothered him,
but did a poor job. His hakama were stained with dust and grime; he had long
ago been forced to remove his flowing robes. His hair was disheveled and his
face was streaked with sweat. He took comfort in the knowledge that Chosai’s
breath seemed to be coming quicker than normal, and even Shaitung’s brow was
beaded with sweat from the effort of the climb. “Why are we here,
Shaitung-sama?” he asked once his breath had returned.
“This
cave is the only way I can contact… a certain vassal of mine,” she said.
The
Master of Air frowned. “What manner of vassal lives in such a remote,
inhospitable place as this?”
“A
very unusual one,” Shaitung replied.
Nakamuro
began to ask another question, but stopped when a strange sound reached his
ears. It was a rumbling sound, almost a vibration. He instinctively began
chanting a prayer to the kami to remove the three of them from the cave,
certain that an avalanche was about to crush them. He stopped, however, as
Shaitung did not seem alarmed. The sound seemed vaguely familiar. Where had he
heard it before?
The
sound grew louder, and then stopped suddenly. There was a louder, crashing
sound, and the ground opened as if a doorway had been hidden within it the entire
time. A small, bluish form emerged from the darkness. Long-fingered hands
scraped along the stone as the strange being climbed out. “Greetings to you,
Shai-tung.”
“Greetings,
Kjgkt,” Shaitung offered with a nod.
“One
of the zokujin shamans who helped us after we faced your father,” Nakamuro said
flatly. “This zokujin is your vassal?”
“In
a manner of speaking,” Shaitung said. “We have remained in contact since you
and I escaped with their help. They share our enmity of my father, it seems.”
“We
remember you,” Kjgkt said, gesturing to Nakamuro. “The other one. Shai-tung’s
mate, yes?”
“Uh,
no,” Nakamuro said hastily. “It isn’t like that. We… are allies.”
“It
is time, Kjgkt,” Shaitung interrupted, her voice somehow easily producing the
rumbling sound that was the zokujin’s name. “We are prepared to face Tamori,
but we will need your help in reaching him.”
“The
dark fire man moves much,” the zokujin said thoughtfully. “Difficult to keep
track of, he is. And tunnels can be confusing for humans.”
“I
have someone with us who has experience in the tunnels,” the Dragon shugenja
said firmly. “We simply need to know how to find my… the Dark Oracle.”
The
creature clicked its claws together. “As you wish,” it finally said. “I will
arrange for the tunnels to be marked. We will be watching with the mountain’s
eyes.”
“Thank
you,” Shaitung said with a bow. “We value your assistance.”
The
zokujin began to step back through the stone doorway it had created. “I hope it
is enough,” it said, glancing back at the three of them. “The dark fire man
grows stronger. If he not stopped soon, the earth will bleed again.”
“We
will stop him,” Shaitung vowed. “Even if we must die.”
•
The
climb down was far easier, much to Nakamuro’s relief. The others would be
waiting at the bottom, and he was anxious to begin. Still, there were questions
he needed answered before he could feel at ease with their plan. “You said you
had someone with experience in the tunnels,” he said to Shaitung. “You mean
Mirumoto Tsuge?”
“Yes,”
she confirmed. “Some months ago, he pursued and battled an enemy of ours in the
tunnels. Tsuge knows enough of the tunnels to aid us.”
“He
won’t be happy so long as Bairei and I are present,” Nakamuro observed darkly.
“He commands the Dragon attacks upon my clan. He’d just as soon see us dead, I
fear.”
“His
wishes are not important,” the Dragon shugenja said. “He will do as he is
ordered. I have no doubt of that.”
Nakamuro
said nothing, but wondered if Shaitung was being overly optimistic. He glanced
again at the silent Chosai, who followed without complaint. Shaitung seemed
certain he was not a threat, but his power could kill them all instantly if
they let their guard down around him. Nakamuro remembered how the old man had
injured Maya before. Yet another threat that he would have to watch out for
during their trip into the earth. There was a flicker of fear in his heart, but
he quashed it instantly. The only chance he had for survival, for the survival
of his friends, depended on him remaining calm and rational. If he panicked,
there would be no second chance.
Their
allies awaited them at the mountain’s base, just as Nakamuro had known they
would. Bairei and Maya seemed strangely amused, while Tsuge was even angrier
than he had been when he had first seen the two Phoenix at Shaitung’s side.
Three shugenja, a general, a monk, and a traitor. It was a strange group to
hope to oppose a Dark Oracle, but there was no time to try and change things.
The Dark Covenant of Fire was in their possession, and soon Tamori would sense
that the powerful nemuranai was moving. If he suspected that it had fallen into
Shaitung’s hands, he would burrow so deeply into the earth that they would
never find him.
No.
It was time to face Tamori.
•
The
party had been below ground for less than four hours when the first attack
came. Nakamuro had prepared himself for an endless onslaught of Tamori’s fiery
oni. When the ground upon which he and his companions stood lurched and rolled
suddenly, he had been caught completely unaware. The convulsing earth threw him
across the cavern, bouncing him painfully against a stalagmite. Nakamuro hissed
in pain as his vision blurred, then forced himself to his feet.
Bairei
was still alive, as was Maya. Tsuge was down and not moving, although Nakamuro
could not tell if he was dead. Chosai and Shaitung had disappeared amid the
rolling waves of earth that were crashing through the chamber. The Master of
Air drew a deep breath and chanted a quick prayer to the kami. He threw his
arms wide, filling the chamber with winds like those found in the hurricanes
that ravaged his clan’s shores. The soft earth that held the rocks together was
blown away in an instant, leaving only the jagged stones beneath. Nakamuro
heard a shout from across the chamber, and the stones disappeared as well.
Shaitung was still alive, it seemed. “Nakamuro, do you have the Covenant?” she
cried.
“Yes!”
he answered, sending a second, focused blast of air through the chamber in an
attempt to clear out the last remnants of the earthen spell’s deadly
manifestation. It was far too similar to the corrupted earth spirits that had
tried to kill him when he, Bairei, and Maya had discovered the Covenant’s
former resting place. The notion chilled Nakamuro’s soul. “Be ready!” he
shouted to the others. “I sense someone coming! The…”
“The
what, Nakamuro?” came a cold voice from the shadows. “The visionary? The
genius? The shugenja with the power and conviction to change the future of our
clan for the better?” A slim silhouette appeared near the cavern’s exit. “But
that’s not it. You were going to say ‘traitor,’ weren’t you? Because your
pitiful mind cannot comprehend any other path but your own.” The figure stepped
into the light. It was an older woman, dressed in the robes of a Phoenix.
“Oh
no,” Nakamuro breathed under his breath.
“Taeruko!”
Shaitung cursed. “You filthy witch!”
“Be
silent, you shameless harlot,” the Master of Earth said sharply. Her eyes
trailed to Shaitung’s exposed shoulders and Nakamuro’s bare chest. “And for the
Kami’s sake, cover yourselves.”
“Why?”
Nakamuro demanded.
“To
make you all pay!” Taeruko exclaimed. “You stood by and watched my daughter
die! The Asako stood by and did nothing! The Shiba failed to protect her, and
the Isawa could not bring her back. The Agasha are merely fools. You have all
failed in your duties. Give me the Covenant, and let a true Master attend to
what must be done.”
Bairei
drew near Shaitung, both of them grim and ready for battle. “You disgrace us
all, Taeruko,” he said. His voice was as cold as Nakamuro had ever heard it.
“Wait,”
the Master of Air held up his hand. “Something here is wrong. If that were
truly Taeruko, if she were truly the traitor, she would not waste time baiting
us.” He studied Taeruko carefully. “What was your daughter’s name?”
“What?”
Taeruko said, her voice nearly a shriek. “How dare you ask me that?”
“Her
name!” insisted Nakamuro. He pointed an accusing finger at Taeruko, lightning
crackling down the length of his arm.
Nakamuro
cast out his hand, commanding the air kami surrounding Taeruko to depart. For a
moment, Taeruko looked as if she would charge across the chamber and crush him
outright. Then, the illusion faded, to be replaced by a tall, handsome man in
elegant red robes. He drew a katana in one hand, the steel rasp echoing eerily
in the twisted cavern. “Well done, Nakamuro.”
“What
is this?” demanded Shaitung.
“Isawa
Hochiu,” Nakamuro said. “Why? Why do you help the Oracle?”
Hochiu
frowned. “I do not help him,” Nakamuro said. “I merely summoned him. I had
hoped to turn you away, Nakamuro. It is not yet time for him to be defeated.”
“Why
would you do this, Hochiu?” Nakamuro demanded. The Master of Air’s hands balled
into fists, surrounded with an aura of lightning.
“Don’t
be naïve,” the Master of Fire said brusquely. Isawa Hochiu touched his chest.
“I am the last great hero of the Phoenix Clan, born of an age of heroes. Our
clan has spawned many legendary figures throughout history, but who are our
heroes now? My victory at Oblivion’s Gate saved all the Empire, galvanized our
clan with the fires of victory.” He shook his head. “We have grown weak,
Nakamuro. Look how pathetic we were in the War of Spirits. In the past we met
crises head-on, without fear, unafraid of destruction for we are the Phoenix
and will be reborn. Isawa Tadaka slew my wicked father and defeated Fu Leng,
bringing our clan to a glorious new age. I defeated the Lying Darkness, forcing
the entire Empire to acknowledge our strength. The time has come for us to be
reborn in conflict again. If our clan does not regularly face such crisis, we
will truly die.”
“Death?”
Nakamuro said incredulously. “You did this to avoid death? You have killed
thousands of our brothers! Thousands of Dragon warriors!”
“Do
not be so shortsighted, Nakamuro,” Hochiu said. “We are both priests of the
kami. You know that they died as heroes; their spirits live on in Yomi! The
Phoenix will be reborn!”
“You’re
mad, like your father.” Nakamuro felt a well of pity for the man, even though
he still feared him.
“Am
I?” Hochiu asked, his eyes clear and focused. “Would you have discovered the
true breadth of your talents if not for this war? And what of that one?” He
pointed to Bairei. “He would still be sitting in some forgotten corner of my
family’s library if not for this war. Both of you owe your greatness to me and
my vision. Without me, you would be nothing.”
“I
would gladly give my life to have saved all those you murdered,” Nakamuro said
vehemently.
“Murdered?”
Hochiu said, exasperated. “You comprehend nothing. Give me the Covenant,
Nakamuro. Return to the surface. I will defeat Tamori, as it was meant to be,
and the Phoenix will glory in the tale of a true hero once more.”
“You
killed Riake,” Nakamuro said softly. “She trusted you.”
For a moment, Hochiu’s face
faltered with doubt. “She… is in a better place now,” he said. “She is a hero
to her people.”
“She
was a sacrifice to your arrogance.”
Hochiu
scowled and pointed his sword at Nakamuro, flames erupting down its length.
With that, a wave of water appeared from the air around Hochiu, crashing into
him unexpectedly and driving him into the hard stone ground. Nakamuro glanced
around to see Bairei, his face twisted in rage, sending wave after wave of
crushing force down upon Hochiu.
“Murderer!” Bairei shouted. “You
disgrace us all! You have stained our name and dishonored the entire clan, all
for your insane ego!”
Hochiu
exploded upward from the deluge in a column of fire, eyes shining with a fierce
red light. “You pathetic wretch! Librarian! How dare you attack me?” He sliced
the air with his sword, sending a gigantic wall of fire forward to collide with
Bairei’s summoned waves. The crashing hiss of fire being extinguished and water
boiling was explosive, and scalding steam billowed through the cave. Nakamuro
summoned a blast of powerful wind to send the steam rolling back toward Hochiu,
but the Master of Fire was unaffected. Hochiu opened one hand toward Nakamuro
and unleashed a ball of roaring blue flame. Before Nakamuro could summon his
magic to defend himself, a wall of stone erupted from the cavern floor in the
missile’s path, causing it to explode several feet from Nakamuro with a
deafening blast.
“Nakamuro!” Shaitung shouted, appearing suddenly at his side. “Are you all right?”
“I
am fine,” Nakamuro said, watching Hochiu carefully. Somewhere in the back of
his mind, he was relieved that Shaitung cared, but he had no time to dwell on
it. “Hochiu is very powerful! We have to end this quickly!”
Shaitung’s
earthen wall melted into lava as Hochiu stepped easily through it. He smirked
at Shaitung. “Shaitung,” he said, saluting her with his sword. “When last we
met you showed me how one desperate warrior can defeat many. Shall I teach you
the same lesson now?”
The Master of Fire leapt into the
air, borne by wings of flame, causing the temperature in the cavern to swelter.
Nakamuro sent a bolt of lighting toward Hochiu, but he easily batted it away
with his katana. Bairei summoned kami of frost with a defiant gesture. The
Master of Fire frowned impatiently as bands of ice formed around his arms and
legs for a single instant before they melted.
“We
are too close!” Shaitung shouted. “If this keeps up, my father will surely
sense our presence!”
The
shugenja’s warning was cut short when the cavern exploded. Rock and fire were
everywhere, raining down on Nakamuro like the vengeance of heaven. A large
shard struck him where he had been injured before, causing his breath to catch
in his chest and his vision to go completely red for a few precious seconds.
“Children,
children,” a warm, frightening voice boomed throughout the chamber. “There will
be no fighting on my doorstep. It is unseemly.”
Nakamuro
climbed weakly to his hands and knees. There was a searing pain in his side,
and if he had doubted it before he knew now that his ribs were broken. A thin
ribbon of blood trickled down from the corner of his mouth. He was wounded
badly, he knew, and would likely die if his injuries were not treated. Not that
he would live that long.
“Shaitung,
darling daughter,” Tamori’s voice continued. “So nice of you to visit your
honorable father. If you are going to bring guests, however, I would prefer
that you send word.” The Dark Oracle hovered above the chamber, wreathed in
flames so bright that it hurt the eyes to look upon them. His smile was replaced
by a snarl when he saw who was present. “But such esteemed guests we have here.
My beloved brother and his friend, the Master of Fire. How I have longed for
your return.” His eyes flashed with power. “Your ritual ended long ago. There
is no protection from my power now. No one makes a fool of the Dark Oracle of
Fire and survives!”
“Do
what you will,” Hochiu said arrogantly. “I have defeated worse than you.”
“What
will you do?” Tamori asked, smirking at Hochiu. “Throw fire at me?”
Hochiu sneered. “Chosai,” Hochiu
said in a commanding voice. “Now.”
Tamori
Chosai rose from where he crouched on the ground, the Dark Covenant of Fire in
his hands. Nakamuro felt panic stab him through the chest as he glanced around.
The Covenant had been lost during Tamori’s arrival, and he had not even
noticed. They were doomed.
“Agasha
Tamori,” Chosai said hollowly. “I command you to face Isawa Hochiu in an
iaijutsu duel, without use of your magical abilities.”
Tamori’s
eyes narrowed. “Treacherous filth,” he cursed. “You turn against your own blood
for this Phoenix?”
“I
do what I must to save my niece,” Chosai said, bowing his head.
“Then
you had best hope both of you are gone when I kill this fool!” Tamori shouted
as he lit upon the ground. He pushed his robes aside, revealing a gleaming
katana on his hip. “I may not have my magic, but Jigoku has granted me strength
and speed as well. Nothing will save you from me once Hochiu is dead.”
Isawa
Hochiu tore his kimono from his chest, placing his daisho in a dueling position
in his obi. “I would have preferred to allow you to continue our war a bit
longer,” he confessed to Tamori, “but fate has forced my hand, it seems.”
“Allowed?”
Tamori said incredulously. “There is no end to your hubris.”
“I
will only admit there is a limit to my power when I am defeated,” Hochiu
countered. “That day has not yet arrived.”
The
two shugenja were silent then, each assuming a dueling stance and studying the
other for weakness. Nakamuro crawled painfully toward Chosai, trying to get
nearer to the Covenant. Maya locked eyes with him and nodded once, slowly.
Nakamuro did not know what the ise zumi was planning, but hoped it would give
him a precious few seconds when the duel was over.
The
second stretched into minutes, but no one in the chamber dared move. For
Nakamuro and his allies, there was no good outcome, for they would have to face
and defeat whoever survived the duel. The notion of defeating either man was
difficult at best, and Nakamuro knew there was little chance for success. He offered
a prayer to his ancestors for strength.
There
was a shout from one of the two men, though it was impossible to say which.
Both struck with lightning speed, moving so fast that Nakamuro was unable to
see their blades. One moment they faced each other, and the next they were
standing past one another, their blades in the finishing pose. For one long
moment, neither moved. Then, slowly, Agasha Tamori slumped to the ground as
Isawa Hochiu clutched the long, jagged wound that crossed his chest.
“As
I said,” Hochiu proclaimed, “that day has not yet arrived.”
“I
am not yet dead,” came a hoarse whisper from the ground. Tamori sat up, his
terrible wound obvious across his stomach. “I have faced you, as Chosai
demanded. I have fulfilled by part of the bargain.”
“No!”
Hochiu shouted, leaping forward to strike the Dark Oracle again. But it was too
late. For a moment, the shadows seemed to deepen around the Master of Fire,
then Master and Dark Oracle exploded into flames so intense that Nakamuro could
feel their heat even across the chamber. There was a brief, defiant cry from
Hochiu, and then… there was nothing left. Even his blade was gone.
A
second blast leapt across the chamber and caught Tamori Chosai completely by
surprise. The old sensei fell to the flames just as Hochiu had, but did not
burn. These flames were slower, weaker. Either the Dark Oracle was weakening,
or he wished his brother to suffer.
“Father,”
Shaitung said, stepping out to stand before Tamori. “Stop this. You are better
than the Taint and anger that flow through your veins. I believe in you, as
mother did.”
Tamori
looked at Shaitung for a moment, dispelling the flames that burned his brother.
A small chuckle escaped his lips. “You cannot be serious,” he said. “After all
I have done are you still so deluded as to believe I care for anything that
lives?” Tamori lurched forward, his body twisting from some terrible impact. A
fountain of blood erupted from his lips.
“No,”
Shaitung said sadly, “but I believe you are arrogant enough to gloat at the
threshold of victory.”
Tamori looked down feebly at the
length of bloodied steel that jutted from his chest. The dying Oracle looked
down on it in confusion. He opened his mouth to utter some final words, but
died before he could, his eyes and mouth gaping open in surprise and outrage.
Mirumoto
Tsuge kicked the body forward, wrenching his katana from the corpse. He cast
his blade down suddenly, drawing his wakizashi and falling to his knees.
“Shaitung-sama,” he said, tears streaking from his eyes. “I too am a traitor,
just as was your uncle. Please, send word of my seppuku back to Uso-sama.”
“What?”
Shaitung said, bewildered. “What are you talking about? This makes no sense!”
“When
I chased that fool Hitaka into the mountains months ago,” Tsuge explained, “he
led me to Tamori. Your father had gained permission to attack your family from
Chosai, but needed permission to attack the Dragon armies, of which I was the
commander. He killed my men until I agreed.” He hung his head in shame. “I was
a fool. I should have died to save our people, but I was weak. I allowed my
fear of death and hatred of the Phoenix to overcome me.” He held his weapon at
the ready. “And now I will cleanse my ancestors’ name.”
“Stand
up, fool!” Shaitung said. “We have too many wounded, and you are still strong
enough to run! If you die down here, we all may die. Do you want more deaths in
your name?”
“No,”
Tsuge said quietly. He looked up at Nakamuro. “No more death.”
Nakamuro
began to say something to the repentant samurai, but the sudden wailing of
Tamori Chosai stopped him. Chosai’s burning form rose from the ground, his arms
cast out in agony. “Yes!” he cried in a wretched voice. “Yes, I accept, my
brother! I will bear your burden!”
“What?”
asked a confused Bairei. “Who is he talking to?”
The
flames surrounding Chosai’s burning form flared brighter, and suddenly his
flesh began to reform, slowly at first and then with incredible speed, until he
was standing before them, whole once more and surrounded by a nimbus of
blackened fire. When he spoke again, his voice was not his own. “You cannot
thwart Jigoku, fools!” he shouted. “The flesh is merely a tool! There will
always be a Dark Oracle of Fire!”
“No!”
screamed Shaitung, her voice ragged with pain. “Uncle, no! Fight it! Not again,
please!”
A
blur moved across the chamber, and Maya appeared before Nakamuro, the Dark
Covenant in her hands. “I hope you know how to use this, Phoenix,” she said.
Even her tranquil expression showed the beginning of fear.
Nakamuro
seized the Covenant. “Tamori Chosai!” he shouted. “I hold the Dark Covenant!
Attend me!”
Chosai
let out a sound that was half-laughter and half a cry of pain. Nakamuro did not
relent, rising painfully to his feet as he stood before the Oracle.
“Make
your request, Phoenix,” Chosai said, scowling at the lantern.
“I command you to leave Rokugan
as swiftly as you are able and never return!” he said.
Chosai’s
eyes widened. “Damn you, Phoenix!” he roared.
“Damn you!” Chosai’s form began to fade into the fire. For a moment, the
dark fire in his eyes faded, and he cast a sorrowful look at his niece before
he disappeared entirely. In his absence, the cavern seemed strangely dark and
silent.
Shaitung
bowed her head, a single tear streaming down her marble face. Nakamuro felt a deep
pang of sorrow in his heart as well. For a woman who controlled her emotions
such as she, it was an enormous display. She had watched her family fall to
darkness, but had survived. She remained strong. Nakamuro tried to rise, to go
to her, but the pain in his chest drove him to his knees again. He felt Maya’s
arm around his shoulders, lending him strength.
“All
is well, Phoenix,” she whispered to him. “She would not accept your comfort
even if you offered, but she appreciates it just the same.”
Shaitung
looked back at the others, soulful eyes fixing on Nakamuro’s briefly. “Let us
leave this place,” she whispered, her husky voice choked with grief.
•
Isawa
Nakamuro moved slowly, the bandages that wrapped his ribs chafing his sides as
he walked. Bairei was an excellent physician as well as being talented with
healing magic, but there were wounds that only time could heal. Even now, the
scholar was making preparations for the two of them to return home. But
Nakamuro could not leave yet.
The
precipice that overlooked the valley below Shiro Tamori was strangely still,
with none of the winds that normally buffeted anyone traveling through the
family’s lands. It was almost as if the mountains, like Shaitung, were quietly
grieving the loss of their own. Shaitung stood silently, motionless, looking
over the horizon. Nakamuro could not approach her. After several minutes, he
cleared his throat. “Shaitung-sama, we are about to leave. I just… I wanted to
thank you once again. And to tell you… I’m sorry.”
“There
is no need for you to apologize, Nakamuro,” she answered. “You have done my
family a great service. We are forever in your debt. I am in your debt.”
The
Master of Air nodded. He turned to leave, but stopped. He stood for another few
moments, his back turned to the mourning shugenja. “Shaitung,” he began. “I
have to tell you… I must tell you that… I….”
“Don’t,”
she said softly. “There is nothing to be done. I am the Tamori daimyo. You are
the Master of Air. We both have responsibilities that we cannot set aside. Not
for any reason. You know that.”
“Yes,”
he said. “Yes, I know.”
“Then
you know that I must stay, and you must go.” Her voice had changed, and
Nakamuro imagined that she had turned to face his back. “My father and uncle
are gone. I have only the Tamori now. Do not ask met to give that up.”
Nakamuro
nodded. He turned to walk away, then paused. “You are a stubborn woman,
Shaitung,” he said. “You would remain here in solitude so that you are never
harmed again, lonely like the mountain.”
Shaitung
turned, peering over one pale shoulder at Nakamuro. One eyebrow raised
questioningly. “You have your own responsibilities, Nakamuro. The Council must
be reformed.”
“Distance
is nothing to the Master of Air,” Nakamuro said. “I can attend my duties there
and return here from time to time.”
“Why
would you do that?” she asked, tilting her head curiously.
“You are not the only one who
knows loss, Shaitung,” Nakamuro replied. “And unlike the Elemental Council,
loss is not an enemy that can be conquered alone. Send me away if you must, but
I will return. If you must be the mountains, then I will be the relentless
wind.”
“How
poetic,” Shaitung said, laughing slightly. “I thought you were a Phoenix, not a
Crane.” She turned back toward the mountains. “Do as you will, Phoenix. If you
must act a fool, I shall not stop you. Sayonara.”
Nakamuro
smiled faintly. It was not much of an acknowledgment, but for Shaitung it was
something.
“Sayonara,
Shaitung-san,” Nakamuro said. He cast one final look at her, silhouetted against
the mountain landscape, then turned to leave.