Tadaka’s Children

by Shawn Carman and Rich Wulf

 

Before the Clan War…


Isawa Tomo looked on pensively as his brother finished the spell. The earth groaned from the strain, but obeyed the Master of Earth’s wishes. The cave entrance slowly closed, and in mere seconds there was nothing but a flawless rock face before them. “Tadaka,” asked Tomo, “are you sure this is necessary? They could still be of use to us. You’ve seen what awaits us.”


Tadaka shook his head. “No, brother,” he said firmly. “You and I have suffered much because of our dalliance with the Black Scrolls. Can you be certain that our corruption will not extend to them?” He gestured back toward the flat rock wall. “I will not risk them turning against our brothers. They were created to save the lives of Phoenix warriors, not destroy them.”


Tomo sighed heavily. It was a sound of resignation and defeat. “You are right, brother. But I fear what fate we shall meet without them.”

 

“We are samurai, Tomo,” said Tadaka, clapping his brother on the shoulder. “We are the Elemental Masters. We are Phoenix. We shall meet our fate without fear, and we will emerge victorious.”


The Master of Water smiled, but he did not share his brother’s optimism. “To Otosan Uchi, then,” he said. “And to our destiny.”

 


Rokugan, present day…


Jiru scrambled desperately to keep his footing, but it was too late. The recent earthquake had left far too much loose rock, and he was dangerously close to the edge of the cliff. His feet slid out from under him, landing him on the smooth rock surface with a resounding thud. He immediately begin sliding down the steep grade toward the cliff’s edge. If he reached it, he would be propelled out into open air several hundred ken-an above the ground. His death would not be pretty.


As the beginnings of a panicked prayer to the Fortunes began to stream incoherently past his lips, Jiru suddenly dropped slightly, then slammed into another rock wall. Instinctively, he grabbed on with all his might. A hole had been opened up on the cliff face by the earthquake, and he had slid directly into the opening. It had saved him from falling off the cliff itself, but he had no way of knowing what kind of drop was beneath him, and Jiru was not interested in trading one certain death for another.


Pulling himself up very carefully, Jiru managed to find purchase on the rock wall and brace himself against the wall of the opening. He would not fall again unless the rock upon which he was sitting collapsed, and if that happened… well, there was no escape from something like that in any event.


Curious, the peasant peered down into the darkness of the opening. The cavern below didn’t seem natural. The walls were too smooth. He could not make out exactly what was inside, but there were many strange shapes that almost looked like armor of some sort. Juri frowned at the idea. Was this some sort of grave or tomb? He did not want to be responsible for desecrating such a place, particularly if it was the tomb of samurai.


Perhaps it would be best to return to warden’s outpost he had passed some time back and report this matter to the magistrate. Yes, that seemed like a good idea. And it got him off the hook as well. Very cautiously, Juri began to make his way back down the mountain.


Today was turning out to be very interesting.


Two Weeks Later...

“This way, my lord,” Jiru whispered, clutching the wall with one hand as he stumbled through the darkened tunnel. The peasant held a lantern aloft in a shaking hand, casting fitful light through the caverns.

Seishiro swore loudly as his slipped on the loose stone. “This had best not be a waste of time, boy,” the samurai replied. We are busy men.”

“I assure you, this is no waste of time,” Jiru said quickly, bowing his head to the samurai. “What I saw was incredible, impossible to describe. You must see.”

Seishiro growled deep in his throat, obviously unconvinced.

“Patience, my friend,” Asahina Sekawa said in a smooth voice. The shugenja climbed his way easily through the tunnels, unmindful of the hazardous terrain. “There is great power here. I am surprised that you cannot sense it yourself.”

“All I sense here is dust and mud,” Seishiro said. “Satisfy your curiosity so we can leave this forsaken place, Sekawa-sama.”

“It will not be much longer,” Jiru assured them both as he hurried toward a low stone archway. “What I saw was directly through... here...” Jiru’s voice trailed off as they entered a much larger chamber.

“Empty,” Seishiro snarled, peering about warily. “You have wasted our time, peasant.”

“It was not empty before,” Jiru said fearfully. “There were soldiers, clay soldiers. The entire cavern was filled with them! I assumed it was a lost tomb of some mighty samurai, perhaps even an Emperor!”

“The only clay soldiers you saw were at the bottom of a sake cup,” Seishiro replied, sneering at the terrified peasant.

“No, wait,” Sekawa said, stepping deeper into the chamber. “Look about you. This chamber was not carved by mortal hands.”

“Sculpted by some mad tsukai, most likely,” Seishiro said, seating himself on a large stone with a grunt.

“I do not think so,” the Jade Champion said, walking slowly into the center of the room. “This is a holy place. Powerful shugenja once dwelled here.”

“Yes,” Seishiro chuckled. “No doubt they were here, Sekawa-sama, and only just stepped out with their army of clay men.”

“Perhaps,” Sekawa said with a dry chuckle. He knelt upon the floor, eyes closed in concentration.

Seishiro looked at Sekawa impatiently. “If you no longer require me, my lord, I shall return to the surface,” he said, rising. “These cramped caverns are no place for a Crane.”

“I think that would be unwise,” Sekawa said in a distant voice.

As Seishiro reached the archway, the cavern’s stone walls began to twist and bend. Two armored samurai forged of raw earth stepped from the wall, flanking the Crane on either side with diamond-tipped yari.

The peasant, Jiru shrieked in terror. Seishiro backed away warily, moving toward Sekawa with one hand on his katana. All around them, the walls and floor of the cavern warped and shaped themselves into dozens of clay warriors. The unliving things moved forward inexorably, eyes fixed hatefully upon the three intruders.

“What are these things?” Seishiro asked.

“If you do not let me concentrate so that I may attempt to speak with them,” Sekawa said in an even voice, “They might be our death.”

Seishiro’s mouth closed with an audible click.

“Tadaka?” one of the clay soldiers moaned, stepping forward to scowl at the intruders. “Has our master sent you? Has he come for us at last?”

“Tadaka?” Seishiro repeated. “Isawa Tadaka?”

“Former Master of Earth, the Phoenix Clan Thunder,” Sekawa replied. “I should have recognized his work, though it is strange that he would hide his creations in a place such as this.”

“Will they harm us?” Jiru asked meekly.

“So long as we show them no violence, I do not believe that they will,” Sekawa replied. “Move cautiously, keeping your hands from your weapons.”

Seishiro nodded, moving slowly toward the door. Jiru huddled in his shadow, lantern shaking in his hand. Sekawa rose and stepped forward last. The clay soldiers stepped aside, all save those who guarded the threshold. They stared forward with haunted eyes.

“Tadaka,” one said in a hollow voice. “Where is Tadaka? Where is Tomo?”

“You masters are dead,” Sekawa said softly. “They died battling the Shadowlands on the Day of Thunder. They died as heroes.”

“Then what shall we do?” the soldiers asked, looking at one another in confusion. “We were created to battle the darkness, but now we are lost. Who will lead us into battle?”

Sekawa’s eyes narrowed shrewdly. “These creatures may be of use against the Shadowlands,” He said, looking back at the army that now filled the massive chamber.

“They are forgotten magic, shugenja,” Seishiro replied. “They are dangerous. Leave them to their rest.”

“If we leave them, someone else will find them,” Sekawa replied. “It is my duty as Jade Champion to deal with such dangerous magic. If treated carefully, they may yet be put to the use Tadaka intended.” He studied the nearest soldier carefully.

“Who will lead us?” the soldier asked.

“I will lead you,” Sekawa said in a bold voice. “The dark god that slew your creator has returned. You will help us fight his servants.”

The soldiers bowed as one, ready to follow the shugenja’s command.

“This is a dangerous thing you do, Sekawa-sama,” Seishiro said, his tone warning.

“Everything worthwhile is dangerous,” Sekawa replied with a determined grin.