Redemption
by Shawn Carman & Rich Wulf
Once, there had been something
other than darkness and pain. Once, there had been light. There had been
fulfillment and contentment. That seemed so distant now that it could have been
another lifetime, or even the lifetime of another. It had been before the
burning, before the blood and the madness. Before the pain.
The
pain came again, turning the darkness red.
There was screaming.
•
It was strange, the difference
that existed between the northernmost and southernmost mountain ranges in the
Empire. A little more than a month before, Mirumoto Narumi had left her home in
the Dragon mountains. When she left, it was still the
latter portion of winter. Blankets of white covered most mountaintops, and only
the most heavily traveled roads were even remotely passable. It had taken her
over a week to make the trek from Shiro Mirumoto to Shiro Kitsuki, a trip that would
take perhaps three days under different circumstances.
Despite
the harsh weather that dominated her home for so many months every year, Narumi
could not help but find the winter beautiful. The pristine purity of snow was
something that spoke to her soul, and she often meditated among the boulders
for hours, even on the most frigid of winter days. As she had traveled south,
she had left the winter behind and watched as spring struggled to be born in
the Unicorn and Scorpion lands. If winter was a time of quiet stillness, then
spring was one of chaotic growth, and every bit as vital and important to the
soul as the calm serenity of winter. It had been a most refreshing journey.
And
then she had reached the Crab lands.
The
majority of Crab lands were not necessarily unpleasant, but were decidedly
dour. There was no sense of burgeoning life or tranquility, only a bleak and
unforgiving sense of oppression. It was as if the land itself sought to
dominate you, to overwhelm your senses and demand that you submit to the
inevitable. Narumi found it most disquieting. When she had reached the Twilight
Mountains, the sensation had only worsened. The last throes of winter here did
not seem serene or pristine. It seemed as if the heavens had cast a shroud of
death upon the land, killing everything that it touched. Though she would never
tempt the Fortunes’ wrath by saying so, Narumi knew in her heart that this was
what Meido, the realm of the waiting dead, must be
like.
The
young samurai-ko’s brooding came to a sudden end as
she spied a thin ribbon of smoke spiraling skyward. It was too small to be a
wildfire. There were no villages in the area, and Narumi had not seen another
human being since she left the company of three very unpleasant Crab
magistrates in the Twilight Mountain foothills some days past. Narumi paused
for a moment and regarded the ribbon impassively, weighing her options. Her
business in the mountains was intended to be discreet, and she wished to avoid
involving anymore more than absolutely necessary. Still, the mountains were
cold and lonely, and it could be to her benefit to find a guide or perhaps even
an ally. Otherwise, she could wander the mountains for months and find no trace
of her quarry.
After
a moment’s further consideration, Narumi leapt down from her perch atop a large
boulder and made her way toward the smoke.
•
The
ribbon of smoke led to a small hollow in the mountain, a sparse hole that
provided some meager protection from the elements, but little else in the way
of comfort. A lone Crab sat within it, hunched up uncomfortably near a small
fire, absently chewing at a stale rice ball. Every so often, the Crab would
glance around suspiciously, as if sensing someone’s eyes upon her, but Narumi
remained perfectly still and said nothing. She observed for several minutes before
finally deciding that this person did not pose any significant threat.
“Hello,”
Narumi said pleasantly, her voice strangely booming in the silence.
The
Crab was a blur of motion, leaping to her feet and casting about for any sign
of an intruder. Her eyes settled on Narumi. Her hand flew up and a torrent of
fire leapt from her palm to blister the stone’s surface where Narumi had been
crouching.
Of
course, she was not there any longer. She had hurled herself upward into an
arcing somersault, carrying her effortlessly across the divide between her
previous perch and another boulder several meters away. She landed and
instantly leapt upward again, easily dodging the second gout of flame summoned
by the Crab. She landed on a third boulder, and this time paused for a moment.
“I mean you no harm.”
The
Crab scowled, her features tired and worn. “A Dragon?
What are you doing here?”
Narumi
gestured toward her belt. “I have the proper travel papers, signed by both my
Champion and yours. They allow me unrestricted access to this region of the
Twilight Mountains.” The samurai-ko hopped down from
the boulder and bowed.
“It
is dangerous to travel alone in places such as this,” the Crab said. “You
should have sought a guide.”
“I
did not wish to distract the Crab from their duty,” she replied. “All is well,
I am a skilled mountaineer and as I said, you have nothing to fear from me.”
The
Crab’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know that you have nothing to fear from me?”
The
Dragon gestured to the other woman’s obi, where a tiny jade charm hung. “You
bear a witch hunter’s seal,” she explained. “I have nothing to fear from one
who hunts the darkness.”
The
surly woman seemed to deflate at Narumi’s words, and slumped back down beside
her fire. She gestured wearily for Narumi to take a place opposite the flame.
“I was a witch hunter,” she corrected. “No more.”
“My
apologies for the mistake,” Narumi said. “May I ask what happened?”
“I
failed,” the Crab said miserably.
Narumi
nodded sadly. “It is a difficult burden that the Crab carry,
to stand alone against the Shadowlands.” She glanced around at the makeshift
campsite. “What are you doing in these mountains?”
The
Crab said nothing for a few moments. “Seeking something,” she finally answered.
“I
am as well,” Narumi agreed. “What do you seek?”
“Redemption.”
Narumi
smiled. “I seek the same thing, of sorts. Perhaps we can find it together.”
•
There was a stirring that drew
him from the darkness. He fought against it, because the sweet oblivion was far
preferable to the terrible pain of the waking world, but he could not resist
the call. He groaned in defeat, and his eyes slowly opened.
It
was night. The open sky above them was filled with stars and the half-concealed
image of Lady Moon, who cast a weak light down into the stone circle where he
lay tied to a jagged chunk of rock. As he became aware of himself and his
surroundings once more, the pain rushed in to fill his memory. Pain where the rock cut into his back. Pain
from a thousand cuts all across his body. Pain filling his leg, which
felt like a loose bag of flesh filled with stones. And pain from the burning,
searing agony within his veins that filled the edges of his vision with red and
threatened to take control of him once more.
“Hello
again, my friend,” a voice said. It was smooth and comforting, but he took no
pleasure upon hearing it. It filled his mind with the image of a serpent,
winding sinuously among the rocks waiting to strike. “I trust you feel well
enough to talk.”
“Where…
where am I?” he demanded. “Who are you?”
The
voice sighed heavily. “We have this conversation often, you and I. I must
confess, so far our relationship has not proven very fulfilling.”
“Who
are you?” he repeated.
“My
name is unimportant, and you would not remember it in any event,” the other man
replied. “Let us suffice to say that I am a seeker of truth, and that I am
currently seeking the truths you carry locked within your unfortunate soul.
Thus far, you have not revealed them to me, but you will.” The man leaned
forward enough so that the dim light from the campfire behind them illuminated
his sickly pale skin. “You will tell me what I want to know, Kokujin Kobai, or I will hurt you
again.”
The
battered husk of a man slumped back against the rock, his eyes gazing up at the
moon. The radiance shone through the pain, and for the first time that he could
remember, he felt something blaze to life within him. It was the briefest
spark, but it did not die. “No,” he spat. “Not Kokujin.
Hitomi Kobai.”
The
pale man raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Interesting,” he mused. “Perhaps
this time you are feeling a bit more like yourself? A bit
more lucid, if you will? That will be a great help to us.”
“Don’t
play games, Migawari,” a thick voice came from the
firelight’s edge. The speaker’s features could not be made out, but his form
was hulking and loomed above even the boulders around them. “Find out what he
knows. I grow weary of this.”
“Truth
is never a game, Horii,” the pale man said in an exasperated tone. “Gather the
others and prepare them for the ritual. I will continue my conversation with
our friend.”
The
larger man lingered in the shadows for a moment, as if deciding whether to
tolerate the smaller man’s impertinence, and then finally withdrew. Kobai could hear him speaking harshly to others somewhere
in the background. The man called Migawari loomed in
closer, smiling at Kobai with a terrible, empty grin.
“You really are a treasure,” he said in a conspiratorial whisper. “I can find
no reason why you should still be alive after what Kokujin
did to you, and yet you are. Your spirit is bound to this realm due to the
unique condition of this place and by the circumstances your death. I wonder if
your tattoos also play a part as well. I have heard of tattoos that heal the
injured, that let a man live forever. I wonder if yours bind your soul here, in
a body that should be long since dead.” He smiled again and withdrew a long,
wicked knife. “No matter how much damage I do, you do not die. Kokujin chooses his vassals well, it seems.”
The
mention of his former master caused the blood within Kobai’s
veins to seethe and boil. He grimaced at the pain, and could feel the madness
threaten to consume him again. It would transform him into the creature that
had followed blindly Kokujin, that had killed his own clan in his master’s name. Kobai stared up at the moon and desperately wished for the
strength to resist, but he did not beg for forgiveness or salvation. She would
not save him if he was weak. “Hitomi,” he hissed through his teeth, his eyes
tearing up at the pain. “I am a Hitomi, now and forever. Lady Moon, give me one
more chance to wreak vengeance on those who defy you.”
“Fascinating,”
Migawari said. “Tonight shall no doubt be very
enlightening.” He drew the knife across his own well-scarred palm, allowing a
few drops of blood to trickle onto Kobai’s skin. “But
you were a Dragon once, so that is no surprise. Is it not your duty to help
others seek enlightenment?”
Kobai fixed Migawari with a
murderous gaze.
“Tell
me about the Shameswords,” Migawari
asked in a sweet, rich voice. “Tell me where they are, and how they were
created. Tell me everything and I will give you no more pain today.”
The
madness was upon him. Everything ran red. “You will punished
you for this, you puling maggot,” he snarled, spraying spittle and blood. “You
will suffer for meddling in such affairs! You meddle with the power of a god!”
Migawari sighed. “I wonder,” he replied, “do you speak of
Hitomi or Kokujin? Perhaps both?”
Kobai fell silent, though he still seethed with anger. In
truth, he did not know.
“Perhaps
if I cut the tattoos from your flesh,” the Bloodspeaker
said in a musing voice. “I wonder what that would do?”
The
screaming continued long into the night.
•
Kobai slumped against the stone, weak from blood loss and
exhausted from the constant torture. He should be dead, just as the foul
creature that tormented him had said, and yet his tattoos would not permit him
to die. He had struggled to remain strong, to endure without weakness, but
between the pain and the bouts of madness that came over him, he had broken
down several nights ago and prayed to Lady Moon. He prayed to her for death,
and that she would show mercy for his weakness. In truth, he was not surprised
that she did not answer. He was unworthy.
“This
is useless.” The voice of his tormentors drifted across the campsite to him,
warped and twisted through the veil of pain that separated him from them. “He
knows nothing.”
“Perhaps not, Horii.” Migawari’s
voice made him cringe despite his stupor. “He may have no conscious knowledge
of his connection to the Shameswords, but he died
upon the Anvil to create the final blade. Whether he knows it or not, they are
connected. I simply need more time to find the truth.”
“We
have no time for this. There are other matters to deal with. Several cells in
the north have gone quiet, and we must discover the reason before our master
loses even more ground.”
“Bah,”
Migawari scoffed. “Either they have been destroyed,
in which case they were weak and of no use to us, or they have betrayed us.”
“After
the fall of the City of the Lost I fear even weak soldiers will be needed.”
Horii said darkly. “And what if they have betrayed us?”
“Then
you and I will show them the truth, as we always have.”
The
larger man sounded angrier. “I grow weary of your fixation on the ‘truth.’ Such
philosophy as yours has always led us astray, causing us to waste time and toy
with our enemies when it would be better to destroy them or escape. Do not make
the mistake of angering me, lest I forget how useful you can be.”
“I
can’t imagine how one could forget such a thing,” Migawari
said smarmily.
The
voices droned on, but Kobai could not make them out.
The men must have withdrawn further from the slab where he lay bound. He
drifted in and out of consciousness for some time, but the world came back into
sharp focus when he felt a burning pain at his wrist. He opened his
heavy-lidded eyes and stared up mutely at a young woman who was tugging at the
leather straps that bound him.
“Say
nothing,” she whispered. “Are you strong enough to come with me?”
Kobai stared at her blankly, then
nodded slowly. Surely this was a hallucination.
“We
must move quickly,” the woman continued. “There will be only a few seconds
before they notice that we are gone.”
“Perhaps
less,” a terribly familiar voice said. Migawari
stepped forward from the shadows and lashed out at the woman with his twisted
knife. The young woman moved with incredible speed, easily stepping back out of
range and drawing her blades in the span of a heartbeat. “Yaruko!”
she shouted.
A
blast of sickly green energy cascaded through the campsite, arriving like a
blast of lightning from the shadows somewhere behind the Dragon woman. It
narrowly missed Migawari, but struck something huge
behind him. Kobai heard the painful scream of the
larger man, the one called Horii, and felt a slight
shake in the ground as his massive form struck the earth like a boulder.
Migawari snarled and lunged forward, but the Dragon was far
too fast. Her fighting style was bizarre, with both blades held out the side
and seeming to leave the body open to attack. In his dazed state, Kobai mused that her stance was oddly reminiscent of bird
in flight. As her enemy moved in, her blades clashed rapidly, blocking and
cleaving. The two danced back and forth for a brief moment, then
the Dragon parried the Bloodspeaker’s strike and
severed his left arm at the elbow. Migawari screamed
and ran into the darkness, his blood leaving a trail across the cold,
unforgiving stone.
“Do
not touch the blood!” a Crab woman hissed as she emerged from the shadows. She
cast another spell, sending a wave of earth to bury Horii’s limp form and to
crush the meager campsite just beyond. There were a handful of muffled cries,
but they were cut off by the collapsing earth.
The
dim firelight was gone, and now only the light of Lady Moon illuminated the
mountains. “Help me get him free!” the Dragon said to Yaruko,
cutting at his thick bonds with her wakizashi.
The
Crab withdrew a strangely familiar knife from her obi and hacked the bonds on
her side away. She helped Kobai to his feet, but his
legs would not hold him. The women helped him, but he had to grind his teeth
against the pain. For several minutes they carried him through the woods before
finally stopping in a shallow cave. The Crab knelt over him, whispering softly
as she spoke prayers of healing. Kobai shivered as
soothing magic coursed through him, eyes opening wide in
terror as his pain was torn away.
For
years the pain was all he had. Without it, what would become of him?
“This
man bears the symptoms of corruption,” Yaruko said,
“but he bears no Taint. How is that possible? How can a man escape his Taint
completely?”
“I
do not know,” Narumi said.
“Who
is this?” Yaruko pressed. “You said we sought Togashi
Mitsu. Is this him? How did he even come to be here?”
The
Dragon glanced at her comrade strangely, her mouth pressed into a fine line.
“There was an… incident here, some years ago,” she
said. “Mitsu was not the only one lost here.”
•
The
darkness had come and gone again, and Kobai did not
remember. The flight from where the Bloodspeakers had
held him was a mystery, as he remembered nothing of it. He glanced at the moon
and could see that several hours had passed. Thankfully, the rest seemed to
have staved off the madness, at least for the moment. Kobai
rose to a sitting position, his hands shaking from the effort.
“Are
you rested, Mitsu-sama?” Narumi asked. “We can not
risk staying here much longer. We are too close to the Bloodspeaker
camp.”
Yaruko nodded. “Migawari will not
be defeated by losing a limb, and Horii may well still live.”
Narumi
glanced oddly at her comrade, her thoughts obvious. Kobai
shared them as well. “You know them?” he asked in a rasping voice.
“I
have faced them before,” Yaruko said. “Horii was once
a Crab. Migawari is… something else.”
“Are
you rested, Mitsu-sama?” Narumi repeated.
“Mitsu?” Kobai
replied and his body heaved with a rasping chuckle. “I am surely not Togashi Mitsu.”
The
two women stared at him blankly. The Crab glanced at Narumi questioningly. The
Dragon, for her part, seemed shocked and embarrassed. “Who are you, then?”
Kobai thought for a moment. “I am not entirely certain who
I am now. Once, I was Hitomi Kobai.”
“Kobai!” Narumi hissed. She was on
her feet in an instant, her blades drawn. “Traitor!
You should have died with the Bloodspeakers!”
Kobai nodded. “Yes, I should have. And you must kill me
now.”
Again,
the women were taken aback by his response. “What is the meaning of this?” Yaruko demanded. “What are these Dragon riddles?”
Kobai stood, his shattered leg now repaired by Yaruko’s magic and his restorative tattoos. “I died
corrupted, bound to Kokujin’s will,” he said. “My
soul was trapped in a Shameswords, but somehow… part
of me remains. There is something in this place, these mountains,
that would not let me die. I can feel the sword, calling to me from
across the Empire. And I can sense Kokujin’s madness
welling up inside of me. If it overtakes me, I will kill you both. You must kill
me first.”
“What
is a Shamesword?” Yaruko
asked.
Narumi
ignored the question. “You can sense them?” she asked quietly. “You can sense
the swords?”
Kobai nodded. “At least one of them.
It is a part of me now, and the others are tied to it as well. I can feel them,
like stings on my skin.”
Narumi
sheathed her blades. “Satsu-sama told me of the
blades. I was to search for any clue as to their location. He seemed optimistic
that I would find them here, but it seems even our lord can be wrong from time
to time.”
“Are
you so sure?” Yaruko asked. “Perhaps Kobai is your clue.”
Kobai frowned at her words. “You cannot return me to the
Dragon lands. I am a danger to everyone around me. You must destroy me before
the madness returns.”
“I
have heard of enlightened madness,” Yaruko said.
“Sometimes the wisdom dragon tattoo magic brings is too much for a soul to
safely handle.”
“What
would you know about it?” Kobai growled. “I am no
Dragon. I am a monster! You must kill me.”
“I
will not kill you, Kobai,” Narumi insisted. “I was
commanded to seek the location of the Shameswords,
and if you are the only clue then you must live.”
“Kill
me,” Kobai snarled, “or I will take your swords from
you and do it myself.”
“My
life is unimportant compared to yours,” Narumi said flatly. “If you are a true
servant of Lady Moon I do not believe she would let you destroy yourself. If
you are untrue, then the Dragon have lost nothing but
a madman and a woman foolish enough to have faith in him.”
The
kikage zumi’s hands curled
into fists as his anger rose. He struggled to calm himself, lest he encourage
his own madness. He glanced around absently, looking for a way to destroy himself. But wouldn’t his tattoos only keep him alive again?
It seemed hopeless.
“I
have always heard of the Hitomi’s legendary strength”
Yaruko said quietly. “What is this weakness?”
Kobai turned to face the woman with a wild, wide-eyed
stare. “Do not dare speak ill of Lady Moon’s Order,” he said through clenched
teeth. “Defeated as I am, I will not endure such insult to my brothers!”
“Then
cease to be one,” Narumi said, meeting his gaze squarely. “Cease your self
destructive moaning and help me find the Shameswords.”
“You
know nothing!” Kobai whispered. “I was the most loyal
of Lady Hitomi’s followers! None could dare question
my devotion! I was her chosen vassal!”
“And
she allowed you to succumb to Kokujin?” Yaruko asked. “Hitomi is stronger than that. If she wished
to retain you, she would have done so. The weakness was yours, Kobai. Overcome it now.”
Kobai opened his mouth to reply, but said nothing. He
flushed darkly in shame.
“I
have worked alongside the Damned,” Yaurko entered
impassively. “I have seen men suffer from madness and rage as products of the
Taint. You bear no corruption, but I see many similarities here. You are not weak because of your madness, Kobai. The very fact that you have retained any sanity at
all demonstrates that there is hope of return. Tell us more about how you came
to be here, Kobai.”
Kobai frowned. “After Hitomi ascended, I was… it was
difficult. I was lost. I had no purpose, no meaning.” His frown deepened, and
he sat heavily upon a rock. “I had followed her so completely that when she
left… I had nothing. I was empty. I could barely think for myself.” He paused.
“You are right. I was weak. I threw myself into the hunt for Kokujin because I hoped he might destroy me. I hoped I
might rejoin my Lady in death.”
Yaruko nodded. “Instead Kokujin
sensed your weakness, and exploited it.”
Kobai bowed his head in shame. “I needed to follow
someone,” he whispered. “I needed a master. I was lost.” He buried his face in
his hands. “How could I let that madman control me?”
“Kokujin has bent the wills of many great men,” Narumi
offered. “Even Satsu could not stand against him alone.”
“Lady
Hitomi abandoned me,” Kobai said miserably. “Kokujin used me and left me for dead. I cannot imagine why
I am still alive.”
“What
interests me more is how you have discarded your Shadowlands Taint,” Yaruko added.
“According
to Satsu, you died,” Narumi said. “When you were sacrificed upon the Anvil of
Despair, perhaps the part of your soul that embraced Kokujin,
the part that was corrupted, was torn away and locked within the last Shamesword. That is why you can sense it. It is everything
dark that was in you. Kokujin left the rest behind,
the parts of your soul that he did not need. He expected you to die, but in the
Twilight Mountains not everything happens as it should.”
“He
did not strip all the darkness from me,” Kobai said.
“There is madness yet within me.”
“How
do you know that is Kokujin’s doing?” Yaruko insisted. “How did you survive being tortured by the
Bloodspeakers all this time?”
“The
madness,” Kobai said,
staring at Yaruko as the realization dawned upon him.
He looked up at the night sky, catching a glimpse of the moon between the
clouds. “The Lady never abandoned me,” he said, breathless.
“This
Kokujin is a plague on all men, not just you Dragon,”
Yaruko said. “Your Lady Moon is a warrior goddess. I
do not doubt that she requires servants who are also warriors – not slaves.
Your Lady’s protection, Kokujin’s magic, and the
strange nature of these mountains have combined to grant you life. Your betrayal, your death, have instead become a test of your
strength.”
Kobai bowed his head in a quick prayer to Lady Moon. “I
will not fail her again.”
•
Even in the midst of summer, the
winds atop the Dragon mountains could chill one to the
bone. When winter had not yet gone, they were like daggers cutting through the
flesh. Even the hardiest ise zumi
tended to avoid them during winter months, which meant that Kobai
had the balcony overlooking the empty mountains to the west all to himself. Or at least, he believed it to be so.
“Have
you adjusted to your return?”
Kobai turned and bowed deeply. He had not heard the man
approach, but then this one was not bound by the same rules that restricted
others. “It is difficult, sama.
I am still having difficulty, but it will come easier in time.”
“Your
fortitude is a testament to Lady Moon’s favor,” the man observed, watching him
with pale golden eyes. “Clearly she is beside you. Even your tattoos look
different than they once did. Kokujin’s twisted
insanity no longer binds you.”
“Yes
and no,” Kobai said. “The madness remains, but it is
mine now. It is my weapon.” His lip curled up in a smile. “I have ever been a
brute. Hitoden, they called me. I earned the name”
“I
see,” Satsu said, watching Kobai thoughtfully. “And
perhaps it is your madness that will lead us to the answer we need. Perhaps it
will lead us to Kokujin.” He paused for a moment.
“How much do you remember of your time spent under his will?”
“Everything,”
Kobai said, gripping the rail so tightly that the
metal curled between his fingers. “I remember everything.”
“I
am sorry,” he said sadly. “I fear you cannot forget. We will need that
knowledge.”
“I
cannot believe Mitsu has not returned,” Kobai said. “I cannot imagine that he is dead.”
“Mitsu will return in time,” the other said said with a smile. “Until then, heroes like you must take
his place.”
“But
can we defeat Kokujin without Mitsu?”
Kobai asked. “All that we have done, all the warriors
we have sent against him, and his power only grows. The threat he poses will
only grow. What hope do we have that we can ever defeat him?”
Togashi
Satsu looked at him with a sad smile. “You, Hitomi Kobai. You escaped his madness, his control, and
even death itself to return to us. That alone is proof that Kokujin’s
power is not absolute.”
With
that, the Dragon Champion left Hitomi Kobai alone to
ponder an uncertain future.