Unforgotten
by Shawn Carman
Ryoko Owari Toshi,
thirty-five years ago. . .
A dark man ran his hands across the stone altar in the center of the shadowed
chamber and laughed softly. There was a grand table deep beneath the castle of his
birth, far to the northeast. He had known since long before his gempukku that
he would never sit at that table, even if his elder brother had long since
taken a place there. But if they would not give him what he deserved, then he
would take it. His smile broadened at the sound of a door opening. Beyond, he
could hear the muted sounds of screaming in the streets. “Musagi,” he said,
addressing his lieutenant, “how are things progressing?”
“Not well at all,” came an unfamiliar voice. The dark man looked up from the
altar to see a young man dressed in blue with long, flowing white hair. “I am
afraid your assistant is in no condition to report to you. I hope that you do
not take offense.”
“Who are you?” the dark man demanded.
The man bowed slightly. “I am Doji Oruku, magistrate of the Crane Clan. And you
must be the man who calls himself Isawa Orimono, though I suspect that is not
your true name. Shall I call you ‘O-Sama,’ as your followers do? It’s a rather
pretentious name, if I may say so.”
“The Crane,” sneered Orimono. “Always so quick-witted. You will not goad me,
Doji. You may have bested Musagi, but he was little more than a loyal
simpleton. You will not fare as well against me.”
“Enough bravado,” Oruku said, drawing his blade. “Your plan has failed. Your
ritual is being disrupted as we speak. All that remains is your punishment.”
“No!” exclaimed Orimono. “I can hear the screams from the street!”
“Those are your followers. The Dragon Orb is ours. I say again, you have
failed. I give you this one chance to surrender.”
“I offer you the same, Crane,” Orimono said. “Allow me to flee, and when I
return I will show you mercy.”
Oruku sneered and lunged at the Phoenix just as the man began to speak words of
magic. The two came together with a ringing of steel and a crackle of dark
energy, and then there was only silence. Moments later, a resounding crash came
from the top of the stairwell. A huge Crab samurai rushed down the stairs,
followed shortly by a young Dragon with both blades drawn. “Oruku!” shouted the
Crab. “Are you here?”
“Here,” came the weak reply. The two rushed to the center of the room where a
bloodied tangle of bodies lay in the floor. One still moved and struggled to
rise, but failed. The others reached down to pull him to his feet.
“Orimono?” asked the Dragon.
“Dead,” replied Oruku, pointing to an open-eyed corpse. “Sadly, he managed to
leave his mark.” He gestured to the green, oozing wound on his shoulder. “The
color matches poorly with my wardrobe, I’m afraid,” he added, drawing a chuckle
from his Crab friend.
“Is it over? Is the threat ended?” the Dragon asked.
“For now,” replied Oruku. He pulled his kimono over the mark, wincing as he did
so.
“What did he want here?” asked the Crab.
“We might never know,” Oruku said. “Let us return to the temple and see if the
shugenja can undo what he has done to me.”
•
Kyuden Isawa, present day...
Asako Bairei flipped through the pages of the ancient manuscript. For hours he
had pored through the scrolls, eagerly searching for the information he
required. He did not notice how the inks had stained his fingertips black, nor
the creaking of his weary bones as he shifted in his seat. Now, as always, he
noticed nothing save the thrill of the hunt. In his mind there was no
difference between his search for knowledge and the triumph of a bushi on the
field of battle. It was a service to his clan. It was his passion. It was his
life. He ran a hand through his tangled hair and pushed on.
“Bairei-sama,” came a soft voice from the chamber’s entrance. The scholar
turned suddenly, wincing at the pain in his neck and blinking at the light of
the lantern. His vision swam for just a moment before he focused on the figure
standing in the doorway. “Yuya-chan,” he smiled. “How nice to see you. I
thought you weren’t returning until tomorrow?”
“It is tomorrow, Bairei-san. You have worked through the night. Again.”
“Oh,” he responded, eyes widening as he glanced at the window. “I did not
notice.”
“Aren’t you tired? Or even hungry?” she asked, her pretty face creasing with
concern. “How can you sit in once place reading for over a day?”
“Well,” he said, somewhat embarrassed, “it was very compelling reading.”
The young shugenja shook her head in exasperation. Bairei was a good man, more
fiercely intelligent than anyone she had ever met. She had little doubt that he
could become one of the most powerful shugenja in the clan, if he but devoted
himself to the task. But that was not his desire. Hidden lore, forgotten
knowledge... these were the things that fired his soul.
Bairei turned to the young woman as they walked down the corridor toward the
library’s exit. “How was your visit to Otosan Uchi, Yuya-san? Did you enjoy
yourself?”
Yuya stopped short in the corridor, horrified. “You... you don’t know?”
The scholar looked perplexed. “I do not understand. Has something happened? Was
there another earthquake?”
A single tear rolled down Yuya’s cheek. “An earthquake. Yes, of sorts. You
might say... you might say that it was the final earthquake.”
Bairei was focused now. “Tell me.”
Yuya laid one hand softly on her friend’s shoulder and continued down the
corridor. The tale was difficult, and it would take time.
•
It was late, but Bairei could not sleep. The thought of Otosan Uchi’s fate, of
how much knowledge was lost forever, was too much. How easy it must be for
others to think him a fool, that something so important could have gone
unnoticed for a week. It had always been easy to become engrossed in his
research. There were often things that went unnoticed. Perhaps that was why
others found him so unsettling. They thought him oblivious to such things, but
he was no fool. He was simply passionate about his duty.
Bairei sighed and rose from his mat. He had promised Yuya he would not return
to the library until morning, but he did not know what else to do. There were
so many matters to attend to. The one that weighed most heavily upon his mind
was the rumor that Yuya had told him. The Elemental Masters believed that Fu
Leng’s spirit had ascended to the Celestial Heavens. If such horrible news was
true... the idea was so terrible Bairei could not begin to imagine what it
could portend.
The scholar lit a lantern and sat at his desk. He drew out a blank scroll and
began jotting down random notes to aid him in his research. What threat might
Fu Leng pose to the existing balance of power in Tengoku? As one of the Kami,
Fu Leng had been made mortal by his fall to earth. Theoretically, his mortal
power would be inferior to the power of the Elemental Dragons, but the Lost
Brother had never seemed quite so limited as the other Kami. Perhaps his
complete corruption by Jigoku granted him more potent abilities. Fu Leng was
perhaps the only being in existence that had seen both the Celestial Heavens,
and the Pit of Jigoku. He had mastered both darkness and light, and as the
Phoenix well knew experience bred knowledge, which in turn bred power. Who else
in all the realms had walked the paths of light and dark and could match power
against Fu Leng?
Bairei chuckled as the answer came to him. Hitomi, the Lady Moon, had been one
of the Seven Thunders, those destined to defeat Fu Leng. After fulfilling her
destiny she had become seduced by the power of the Obsidian Hand, and would
have led her entire clan into the embrace of the Lying Darkness had the wisdom
of the Dragon not saved her. Surely Hitomi could stand against Fu Leng, and if
Bairei could gain some insight into her power perhaps the Phoenix could somehow
add to her might. Sadly those who knew Hitomi best, her own family, would be
unlikely to aid him. The Dragon were at war with the Phoenix and members of the
Hitomi family tended to be the most bloodthirsty and violent of the lot. In
fact many in Bairei’s clan would scoff at the idea of aiding Hitomi, a former
Dragon. In Bairei’s mind, threat of the Dragon Clan paled in comparison to Fu
Leng.
Bairei’s mind drifted back to half-forgotten accounts of moon cultists that he
had read in his lifetime of research. He had not deliberately delved into the
topic, but had come across only occasionally, and then only by happenstance.
Perhaps the library’s records held something that could help him understand the
nature of Hitomi’s power. He could not identify what cause him such disquiet,
but he had long since learned to trust his subconscious memory.
He rose to collect his things and go to the library, then suddenly sat back
down and sighed. He hated it when Yuya forced him to make promises, and she had
demanded that he return to a normal sleep schedule. He could deny her nothing.
With a shake of his head, he returned to his tatami mat to wait for the
sunrise. Perhaps by then he would remember whatever forgotten account troubled
him so.
•
Bairei left the library very little in the next few days. Yuya forced him to
leave to rest or eat every so often, but it was always a brief reprieve, no
more than a few hours at most. The other denizens of the library remarked at
the scholar’s uncharacteristic intensity and left him to his own devices.
After a few short weeks, he found the information he had been seeking. He had
expected it to take longer given the sheer volume of information contained
within the library, but Fukurokujin clearly smiled upon him. There were two
separate accounts of an event in the Scorpion lands nearly forty years ago. One
had been filed by a Shiba magistrate shortly thereafter and told of the
untimely death of an Isawa shugenja due to illness during a visit to Ryoko
Owari. The other, however, was far more interesting.
The second account was duplicated from the Scorpion records. How such a
document found its way into the Isawa libraries, Bairei did not know. Perhaps
the Phoenix had captured it from that sinister clan’s lands in the aftermath of
the coup in 1126. Regardless, the account came from a Shosuro member of the
family who spoke of a moon cult that had attempted some dire ritual of unknown
origin during the Bon Festival. A Phoenix, not specified by name, supposedly
stood at the head of the cult. The date was the same as the death recorded in
the previous document.
Bairei reclined and clasped his fingers together, lost in thought. Other than
some suspicious and unconfirmed encounter between a Fox patrol and a band of
heretical monks deep in the Spine of the World Mountains, this was the only
substantial account of recent moon cult activity that he could find. It held
more information on the moon god, of course, documenting Onnotangu’s role in
the Empire’s struggle against the Lying Darkness and his death at the hands of
Hitomi. Clearly, the Cult of the Moon was the key. If Bairei could find them,
he could gain insight into the goddess they served.
The scholar rose to his feet just as Yuya approached his table. She smiled in
surprise. “Have you actually decided to take a break on your own, Bairei-san?
That would be a first.”
“Yuya-san, can you see to it that a is readied? I need to leave as soon as
possible.”
The young shugenja’s smile turned into a slack-jawed stare. “You’re leaving?”
He nodded. “I must conduct some research, and I cannot do it here.”
“But where are you going?”
Bairei glanced down at the genealogical record he had been studying, as well as
a handful of recently written scrolls detailing the events in Otosan Uchi.
“Kyuden Seppun,” he answered. “There is someone there I must see.”
•
The journey to Kyuden Seppun, while hardly pleasant, was mostly uneventful.
Numerous units of soldiers patrolled around the ruins of Otosan Uchi and the
Seppun lands, but Bairei was an unassuming man with the proper travel
credentials, so they gave him little trouble. The wait to gain an audience with
Doji Jotaro was far more troublesome. In the grand scheme of things, Jotaro was
not so much more important than Bairei, but his position as one of Toturi
Tsudao’s chief lieutenants made him a busy man. It was difficult to gain access
to him without more notice than he had been able to provide.
On the sixth day of his stay at Kyuden Seppun, Bairei finally met with Jotaro.
It was not a glamorous or even formal meeting. Bairei found himself in the
meager Seppun library when the soft clearing of someone’s throat drew his
attention. “I believe you wanted to see me?” asked Doji Jotaro. “I apologize or
the delay, but my attention has been diverted elsewhere.”
“Your apology is appreciated, but not required,” smiled Bairei. “It is I who
arrived requesting an audience with no notice in the midst of what must be a
busy time for you. I offer my apology.”
Jotaro waved his hand absently. “Nonsense. Now, what is it that I can help you
with?”
“Your uncle,” answered Bairei, “was a magistrate, was he not? Doji Oruku?
Assigned to Ryoko Owari?”
The Crane frowned slightly. “Yes. He and my father Ryoma both served in Ryoko
Owari during their careers, although they each went on to other things eventually.
Why do you ask?”
Now Bairei had a chance to frown. “According to my research, your uncle was
responsible for disrupting a moon cult ritual during the Bon Festival. Are you
familiar with this incident?”
“I am,” the magistrate answered. “The honor of the deed allowed my uncle to
advance within the clan to serve Doji Hoturi directly. He was very proud of his
achievements.”
“Deservedly so,” admitted Bairei. “But I suspect that the story held more than
he reported to the Phoenix. Not that he was a dishonorable man,” he added
hastily. “Far from it. I believe that he kept certain. . . sensitive
information from the public eye in order to spare the honor of the Isawa
family.” He pared carefully at Jotaro. ‘Would you know anything about this?”
Jotaro’s expression grew cold and emotionless.
“My uncle’s affairs were just that: his affairs. It is not my place to second
guess his motives or actions, nor would I wish to do so.”
Bairei shook his head. “You do not understand, Jotaro-sama. I am not here to
cast doubt upon your uncle’s achievements. I am here because I need to know the
truth about the moon cult. I believe that your uncle was cursed during the
battle. In return for healing him, the Phoenix demanded his silence. If this is
true, then the dishonor would not be your uncle’s, but the Phoenix’s.”
The magistrate still did not seem convinced. “What you are asking... it could
create problems, even after all these years.”
“Yes,” agreed Bairei, “but I will be the one to bear the brunt of them. Your
family’s honor will remain pure, as it should be.”
Jotaro paced back and forth across the small room for several minutes, rubbing
his chin and thinking carefully. Finally, he glanced sidelong at Bairei and
frowned. “The man whom my uncle killed was indeed a Phoenix, and he was the
leader of the moon cult. Few knew then, however, and even fewer know now that
Isawa Orimono was merely an alias. Although I do not know his true name, I do
know why his involvement was concealed.” He stopped, and stared at Bairei as if
assessing him.
“Please,” the scholar said. “You must tell me. For the Empire.”
“I am not a man who trusts others easily, Asako Bairei,” Jotaro said. “My
duties have shown me far too many willing to say what others wish to hear in
order to benefit themselves. There are many who will make promises to gain the
favor of those who have what they want. My instincts tell me that you are an
honorable man, and that there is no deception within you. yet I am hesitant.
What can you offer me to set my mind at ease?”
“Bairei shook his head. “I have nothing. I can only offer you my word.”
“Then that must suffice,” said Jotaro. “The man who my uncle called Orimono was
a very high-ranking member of the Isawa family. His involvement, if made common
knowledge, could have damaged that family’s reputation beyond repair.”
“Who was he?” breathed Bairei. “I must know.”
Jotaro told him; the answer was everything he feared.
•
“There is one further matter we must discuss,” Shiba Ningen said to his
associates. The Council of elemental Masters held parley at least once every
month. In recent times, they had found the need to meet far more often. The
safety of the clan demanded it.
“What is it, Ningen?” asked Isawa Taeruko tersely. “I have no time for
trivialities.”
“Unfortunately, I suspect this is not a trivial matter,” the Master of the Void
replied. “One of the Asako librarians has requested an audience with us. His
name is Bairei. Normally, we would dismiss his request out of hand, but I feel
that it is important we meet with him. The Void speaks through me.”
“May the Fortunes spare us from pretentious Ishiken,” muttered Taeruko.
“Enough,” said Isawa Hochiu finally. “Admit him Ningen. Let us make this as
quick as possible.”
Ningen nodded and waved absently toward the large stone doors that sealed the
chamber from the lower levels of Kyuden Isawa. The doors swung open easily,
revealing Bairei’s small, hunched figure. “Enter, Asako Bairei,” commanded
Ningen. “State your purpose swiftly.”
Bairei bowed very deeply. “Honored Masters, the rumors of Fu Leng’s return to
Tengoku have upset the members of my family very greatly. We believe that this
crisis may change the Celestial Order as we mortals understand it if the Lost
Brother is not stopped.”
“Brilliant,” said Taeruko. “Did you discover that in the library?”
“At first I could not specify why this troubled me so,” Bairei continued
without acknowledging the Master of Earth’s insult. “In time, however, I
realized that it was my admittedly limited knowledge of the former moon god, Onnotangu.
The possibility of another such celestial entity tormenting the Empire was
extremely disconcerting.”
“Your insight is nothing we have not already considered,” said Hochiu tersely.
“If that is your only concern. . .”
“I am afraid it is more complex than that, Hochiu-sama. My concern has caused
me to delve into many ancient theological texts. I believe that the security we
all feel in the stability of the new Lady Moon is a false one.”
“You are making no sense, scholar.” Ningen’s tone was very stern, reprimanding.
“The Moon and Sun are equal and opposite,” began Bairei. “Their power stands in
opposition to one another, just as yin and yang are balanced. The Sun is order,
law, and honor. The Moon is chaos, madness, and discord. One need look no
farther than the Hitomi order to see the reflection of what Hitomi has become
as Lady Moon.”
Hochiu frowned. “What are you saying?”
“I am saying, honored masters, that the power that Hitomi has gained can and
will corrupt her. She will become just as Onnotangu was before her, a threat to
the Empire. If we allow this to happen, then she could conceivably side with Fu
Leng and throw the Celestial Heavens into complete chaos. Fu Leng could emerge
victorious in Tengoku, with Hitomi sitting at his side. However,” Bairei
glanced around at each of the masters, “if we can protect her from becoming
corrupted, she will be our most powerful ally against the Ninth Kami.”
Ningen returned Hochiu’s frown. “Even if what you are suggesting is possible,
how would mortals hope to affect the happenings of the Celestial Heavens? Such
a thing is even beyond the power of this Council.”
“I believe otherwise, Ningen-sama.” Bairei laid several scrolls on the
Council’s large stone table. “I have discovered several accounts of so called
‘moon cultists.’ During the reign of Onnotangu, such groups were rare, but not
unheard of. The cultists supposedly possess bizarre mystical abilities that
cannot be attributed to conventional shugenja spells. I believe that Onnotangu
could hear and answer his followers in a very direct manner. I believe that the
moon god’s power is connected to the mortal realm in a way we do not yet
understand. One must look only to the Hitomi family, to incidences of her
followers spontaneously developing the tattoos of the kikage zumi, to see the
truth in this.”
Understanding dawned in Taeruko’s eyes. “And you believe that if the Phoenix
worship Lady Moon using the rituals of the moon cult that we can prevent her
from succumbing to the power she now wields?”
“I do,” said Bairei.
“Why not allow the Dragon to deal with this?” Hochiu snapped. “She is one of
their own.”
Bairei bowed his head respectfully. “I was under the impression that the
Phoenix Clan held domain over all matters of theological and mystical
importance. To put it simply, I do not believe this is a problem the Dragon can
solve.”
Hochiu smirked suddenly. “Well said.”
“I do not approve of this,” Taeruko said. “The Cult of the Moon was a
bloodthirsty, violent organization. Their rituals will lead us to corruption
and madness.”
“Naturally we must modify the rituals,” Bairei said. Many of them involved
unsavory acts of sacrifice that I believe would do little to calm Hitomi’s
tormented soul.”
“Madness,” Taeruko said. “I will not allow it. You walk a dangerous path,
Asako. The Inquisitors must be informed of this.”
“Then I shall make them aware of all of my research,” Bairei said, drawing up
his courage and staring down the Master of Earth without fear. “Including the
tale of Isawa Muchito, otherwise known as Isawa Orimono.”
“I know that name,” said Ningen.
“Yes,” Hochiu said quietly. “He was my uncle.”
Bairei bowed his head respectfully to the Master of Fire. “I wish no shame upon
your house, Isawa-sama, but should the Inquisitors interfere with my efforts to
save Hitomi’s soul, I would be obligated by the oaths I swore at my gempukku to
correct this oversight in the historical records of our clan.”
Hochiu raised an eyebrow. “But if your duties to this shrine you hope to build
keep you otherwise occupied...”
“As a Phoenix, my first duty is to the Celestial Order,” Bairei said.
“I do not believe this,” Taeruko snarled. “Hochiu, do you plan to allow this
Asako to blackmail you so blatantly?”
Hochiu shrugged. “And why not?” Hochiu said. “He conducted his research with
wisdom and cunning, and I find that his leverage makes it easier for me to
agree with his argument, which I already found quite persuasive.” He waved
dismissively toward the scholar. “You have our thanks for brining this matter
to our attention, Bairei. You have my permission to pursue this matter, but do
so with caution.”
“One moment, Hochiu,” Ningen added, “While this sounds logical, I have a
further requirement for this shrine. Those members of the Hitomi family who
wish to enter without violence must be allowed access.”
Taeruko and Hochiu both looked at the Master of the Void in shock.
“The Dragon?” laughed Taeruko. “You would allow our most vicious enemies into
our very homes? I think not.”
“I am willing to accept the risk,” Bairei said quickly. “I think their insight
would make our duties easier, and perhaps present an opportunity for peace with
the Dragon.”
“Small chance of that,” Hochiu said. “Nonetheless, your mistakes are your own
to make. I wish you well, Bairei. Inform our builders of what materials you
require. Place this shrine in the Asako provinces, close to Dragon lands. That
way if the Hitomi prove impossible to control at least they will not harm
anything important.”
“I am humbled by your generosity, Masters.” Bairei bowed deeply. “I thank you
for your time.”
“Be certain that if you draw our attention again that we approve of what you
say, Asako Bairei,” Taeruko added as the scholar turned to leave. “You will not
find me a forgiving sort.”
“Of course, Taeruko-sama,” he said. “I shall not trouble you again.” With that,
the solitary scholar disappeared down the corridor and into the darkened
hallways of Kyuden Isawa.